This Side of Paradise - SatelliteBlue - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia (2024)

Chapter 1: Prologue — Foresight, Hindsight

Chapter Text

All Might was calling.

No one else in the agency would’ve been able to tell. Sir Nighteye’s standard ringtone was the boisterous call of “I am here!” that had been made famous across countless rescues and interviews over the past decades, and considering Nighteye's office was already plastered in All Might memorabilia, no one batted an eye. But his ringtone for the man himself was different, an “I’m here,” informal and quiet as All Might had been whenever he’d return from a rescue, a reassurance that everything had worked out even if his sidekick had been near an ulcer with stress.

Nighteye watched the lit screen of the phone and hesitated—hesitated—to answer.

You are being a fool, he thought to himself.

He picked up the phone and snapped, “Nighteye Agency.”

For a moment there was silence—perhaps surprise that the line had connected at all, or about why he’d answered so shortly—before All Might gave a quiet, rasping laugh.

“It’s good to hear you again, Nighteye. You sound healthy as always.”

Something in Nighteye’s chest twinged. When they’d worked together All Might had simply called him Mirai.

“Are you calling about a mission?” he asked.

“Partially,” said All Might. “The mission gives me an excuse.”

For a moment both were silent. Nighteye tapped a finger against his desk, but this proved inadequate for all the restless energy he suddenly found himself with. He stood, circled the desk, and fixed his eyes on the evidence board his agency had been putting together. It was massive, full of photographs, strings, and a plethora of hastily scribbled notes as everything came slowly together. It was in fact so big that a few of the strings looped to the opposite wall, where several of his posters had been replaced with another huge board detailing a case previously believed unrelated.

“I’ve met your successor,” he said. Obviously.

“I hope Young Midoriya made a good impression.”

Nighteye gave a light snort. “He’s as stubborn as you are.”

“Maybe, but I like to think he has a smarter head on his shoulders,” All Might chuckled.

“I didn’t say the stubbornness was a bad thing,” said Nighteye. “While first impressions left much to be desired, he is… unique. It takes quite a bit to change my mind on things. He managed.”

Midoriya had done more than manage; he’d downright shattered Nighteye’s worldview when he’d beaten Foresight’s prediction and pummeled Overhaul. He had done the impossible and changed the future. Nighteye had reluctantly accepted Midoriya into the “All Might tier” in his mental ranking. Truly, they were peas in a pod. No wonder he’d been picked as One for All’s successor.

“Those are powerful words, coming from you,” said All Might. “Are you… interested in working with him further?”

“Of course,” said Nighteye. “Once I’ve recovered completely and my current operation is finished, I fully intend to invite him back to my agency. I know your weaknesses, All Might. I plan to train him out of them before he makes them habits.”

All Might laughed again. “That’s exactly what I’d hoped to hear! The boy follows even my guesses like scripture, and I’ve already seen such self destructive behavior… I think I’m getting some insight on what it was like for you as my sidekick all those years ago. It’s not very pleasant.”

“Wait until you start getting the ulcers,” Nighteye quipped.

“Oh, heaven forbid. I think Recovery Girl might ban me from the training fields if she heard about that.”

There was a lot that could be said about All Might’s current condition. Things that had been said. Things yet to be said. Things that had festered in their minds for years. But now was not the time for them. If All Might had reached out, he was hoping for a resolution. Pushing too hard and too fast on that would ruin that chance forever. It was safer to keep with the subject of Midoriya.

“Do you know how he's doing under Endeavor?” asked All Might.

"Has he not told you?" said Nighteye.

All Might hummed uncertainly. “Not really. We have check-ins, of course, but it's nowhere near as detailed as when he was working with you. Besides that... The boy adores heroes, but when the subject of Endeavor comes up, there’s no enthusiasm. I might even say there’s a reluctance to engage.”

“Endeavor was never shy about trying to steal your title,” Nighteye pointed out.

“I don’t think that’s it,” said All Might. “I wondered if perhaps he was uncomfortable viewing a classmate’s family member in such a light, but he has no scruples about Tensei Iida…I wonder if he’s uncomfortable with Endeavor’s previous attitude? As you said he wasn’t shy, and honestly, after his son’s death his behavior toward the public became… indelicate…”

That little boy’s visage was pinned to the evidence board: a round cherubic face framed by hair split between red and mostly-white, and blue eyes as vivid as his father’s. His photograph was different from any of the mugshots or security camera footage around it. Endeavor had wiped all traces of Touya Todoroki out of existence, so for lack of any other visual, Nighteye had copied one of his personal photographs. They’d taken that picture together at the Hero Gala, so Touya was wearing a little suit; anyone with a discerning eye could tell that the muscular arm to the boy’s right was All Might’s, the more wiry arm to his left Nighteye’s, and the flame-printed tie in the background belonged to Endeavor himself. Touya had been a good child, utterly loyal to his father (much to everyone’s amusem*nt), but polite and respectful despite the Todoroki bullheadedness. All Might had been greatly amused by his elementary school wit. Even Nighteye had been charmed against his will.

When Touya had died in the fire at Sekoto Hill, they’d all been devastated.

Endeavor had always been prickly, but the man before and after his firstborn’s death could hardly be recognized as the same person. While his hero work remained clean and efficient, his attitude became downright foul. Many people—heroes, civilians, reporters—let it slide, because if they grieved for Touya after so short a time in his presence, how much was Endeavor suffering? As far as Nighteye was concerned, this went on far too long. Endeavor had fallen into a habit, and his behavior had been inexcusable for too many years.

Nighteye had made a series of complaints to the H.P.S.C. about it, and surely he hadn’t been the only one. But, he thought with resignation, it was really no wonder the Commission hadn’t acted on his concerns. Touya’s photo on the board was neatly sorted into a group labeled VICTIMS OF LEGACY PROGRAM.

“I worry,” said All Might, and he sounded old. “I wondered… Would you be able to reach out to young Midoriya? For all of that boy’s questions and love for learning, he doesn’t want to appear weak in front of me. When I tried to suggest limits for him in the past he seemed to take it as a challenge to overcome, or an indication that I thought little of his potential. He seems to think that he must become the greatest hero overnight sometimes. When I was young I had a similar mindset, but mine… mine were very different circ*mstances.”

“Nana,” Nighteye said softly.

All Might was quiet for a while. Whenever his old mentor came up that sad weight would settle on him, and even when he laughed about her encouragement and oddities there tended to be tears.

“If Nana were there I never would’ve been put in a position to take that burden,” he murmured. “She never wanted that for me. She did everything she could to try protecting me, even in the event she died. All For One… There simply wasn’t a choice. But that villain is in Tartarus now. There is no great evil bearing down on us. I want young Midoriya to breathe. He has the luxury of building himself instead of breaking himself. I want him to take that opportunity.”

“I understand,” said Nighteye, glancing at his door. In the break room he could glimpse Mirio on the couch; he and Bubble Girl were taking notes on the TV program, and Mirio may have been tired from the recent patrol but he smiled in spite of it all and joked to relieve the tension that had been weighing so heavily on the agency. He was Nighteye’s pride and joy, and Midoriya deserved the same care and patience in his own training. Perhaps Nighteye would recruit Mirio into this scheme as well…

“I think if young Midoriya is uncomfortable with Endeavor he wouldn’t tell me, because he wants to prove he can adapt to anything,” said All Might. “He shouldn’t have to, but I don’t know how to get through to him without making things worse. I think he would respond to you much better.”

“I suspect any discomfort with Endeavor is more personal, considering Midoriya is friends with his son,” said Nighteye.

“Oh?”

“Endeavor may be projecting on him.”

“The idea of having more heirs than Shouto?” All Might guessed. “Or seeing his own struggle to greatness reflected in the youth?”

“Or the seemingly self-destructive quirk in a child under his wing,” said Nighteye. “I do keep tabs on my workers, you know. And Endeavor acts… oddly around Midoriya sometimes. He veers between full competence and treating the boy as if he’s made of glass. I think it’s far more likely that Endeavor sees Touya in him, and it makes him afraid. And, considering what I've heard of Shouto Todoroki’s bluntness, it’s safe to say Midoriya is very aware of Touya’s struggles with his quirk and ultimate fate. Midoriya may feel guilty for dredging up bad memories or distressed at not being seen for himself.”

All Might heaved a long sigh. “Every time I think those Todorokis have had enough, another thing comes along to exacerbate the tragedy… I’m glad Endeavor will keep an eye out for Midoriya’s safety, but you’re right. I don’t want either of them to be uncomfortable.”

“With luck Midoriya will be back in my agency very soon,” said Nighteye.

“Oh?” said All Might, intrigued. “Are you making progress?”

“Significantly,” said Nighteye, reaching out to straighten a pin under the Meta Liberation Army Members section of the evidence board. On further inspection, someone had put the missing information broker Giran under that section by accident. Scowling, Nighteye moved the photograph back next to Touya’s. “Hawks was able to give some insight that allowed us to understand our existing information better. As clever as the M.L.A.’s commanders were, everyone is bound to slip up when in a relaxed, close-contact site like the Bachelorette mansion.”

“That Hawks,” All Might laughed. “Working even when he’s been specifically told not to. I do hope he gets better at relaxing.”

“If you could be changed, I have no doubt he can, too,” said Nighteye.

This time when All Might laughed, it was the booming sound of before. “Speaking of, I… Well, in my retirement I’m hoping to do some relaxing of my own, and spend more time with those I care about. Would you be free to a meeting? We could catch up over drinks?”

He sounded so hopeful, and Nighteye had been waiting for something like this for a very long time. A smile rose unbidden on his face, and he said, “That can be arranged. It might be a while, though. I have to check my schedule.”

“There’s no need to rush. I’m just looking forward to seeing you again,” said All Might.

Nighteye retreated to his desk and flipped through his calendar, making small talk in between proposed times. Eventually they settled on two weeks away, a day when Nighteye would already be near U.A. to reconvene with Tsukauchi on the case and a time where All Might would be done with classes. Nighteye entered it into his schedule and was exceedingly pleased to be able to use his elegant, custom embossed All Might-themed stickers to mark the date. For now they said their goodbyes and the call ended.

For an interaction Nighteye had been agonizing over for years, that had been incredibly easy.

Meeting in person would likely be more awkward, but the ice had been broken. They would surely be able to reconnect. Perhaps it wouldn’t be smooth, but it would happen.

“You look like you’re in a very good mood, Sir,” said Mirio, looking up as Nighteye entered the common room again.

“I am,” said Nighteye. “I have the opportunity to meet an old friend soon. Enough of that, though. What are you up to in here?”

“We’re watching The Bachelorette!” said Mirio, with all the enthusiasm that Bubble Girl seemed to be lacking; while he wore his signature winning smile, she was doing her best to shrivel into the couch cushions and cover her blushing face with her tablet. “This is the last episode of the season. After the Final Rose, isn’t that what you said it was called? Bubble Girl here is a real expert—”

“No I’m not!” Bubble Girl squeaked.

“She totally is,” said Mirio.

“No,” she groaned.

“Experts are what we need,” said Nighteye, leaning his hip against the back of the couch and inspecting the TV. Onscreen the host seemed to be interviewing the final couple in a studio. “The Bachelor franchise has become closely entwined with the political shifting of hero society and our own missions. The more we know of it the better. Bubble Girl, did you watch this with any frequency in previous seasons?”

“I— Well—” She lowered her tablet to peer over the top of it. “Maybe?”

“That would be a yes or a no,” said Nighteye.

“I—I suppose yes, then,” said Bubble Girl. “Sorry, Sir, it’s got me a little self-conscious. Usually when I admit to other heroes that I watch this show they make fun of me…”

“Pardon, they what?”

“Not here, Sir!” she scrambled to say, “just, you know, in general. This franchise is a love it or hate it sort of situation, and with the target audience being women it’s really no surprise that most reactions are hate. I know none of you would judge me for it, but…”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that for long. It’s going to become really popular with heroes really fast,” said Mirio. “Hawks is on there now and everyone’s going to want to copy him. Plus, did you know there are already hero watch parties? I hear it’s really popular in class 1-A, and Nejire says Ryukyu is in a watch party with Mt. Lady, which means Midnight is definitely watching too, so inevitably Present Mic and Eraserhead—”

“You say this as reassurance, but now I’m just embarrassed that everyone else can notice my bad taste,” Bubble Girl grumbled.

Mirio laughed again. “One thing’s for certain, it’s always entertaining!”

“Have you been watching this, Mirio?” said Nighteye.

“I am now!” said Mirio. “I’ve been streaming the last season and I’ll be watching Paradise, too. I figure it’s relevant, since Dabi is our last major informant for the Nomu factories and Hawks is tied into the H.P.S.C. situation. You told me once before that key information can slip out at unexpected times, so I want to catch anything that’s revealed about this mess as fast as possible.”

“That’s good thinking, Mirio,” said Nighteye. “Bubble Girl, I’ll request that you do the same. With your prior understanding of the program’s setup and trends, the two of you can compare any new information for potential leads.”

“You’re going to pay me to watch The Bachelor?” said Bubble Girl, awed. "Y-You're going to pay me to watch Team Hotwings?"

Nighteye had a feeling he didn't want to know what this 'Team Hotwings' was, but replied, "Yes."

A door behind them opened and Centipeder leaned out to call, “Sir, could I speak to you a moment? I may have found information on the League of Villains. Nothing substantial, but they seem to be alive and on the move.”

Nighteye straightened immediately. “Where?”

“Hiroshima, Sir. Judging by Himiko Toga’s Twitter profile they wanted to see the deer and floating gates that were shown off in The Bachelorette’s finale.”

Thank goodness for teenaged girls and their obsession with social media.

“We’ll send out a search,” said Nighteye, striding toward him. “Subtly. We don’t want to tip off the League that we’re coming or any Commission or M.L.A. sympathizers what we’re looking for.”

“I’ll call Tsuakauchi to coordinate,” Centipeder said with a nod, and disappeared back into his office.

Nighteye had just reached the door when Bubble Girl leaned over the back of the couch and cried, “Thank you, Sir! You’re the best!”

“Tell me that once everyone is safe and home,” said Nighteye, and closed the door behind him.

There was work to be done.

Chapter 2: Glass Cages of Emotion

Chapter Text

Hawks—current number two hero, highest approval ratings on the charts, the youngest Pro Hero on record, the “man too fast for his own good,” and recent Bachelorette alumni—was in way over his head.

“I cannot believe,” said his sidekick Aero, “that you are taking the one vacation that isn’t a vacation.”

“I’ve been taking literal months away from the office! What more do you want from me?” said Hawks.

“It doesn’t count as a vacation when you were in some kind of messed up witness protection plan to start with, and you’d be working on protective detail now,” said secretary Robin, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay, but consider this: it’s Bachelor In Paradise,” said Hawks, showing off some jazzhands. The sidekick, secretary, and singular intern glowered at him. “Paradise!” he tried again, with weaker jazzhands.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it means,” said Tokoyami.

“I’ll be sipping co*cktails on a beach,” Hawks argued.

“You will be constantly monitoring your surroundings for threats,” said Aero.

“I will not! That’s what the Paragon security team is for!”

“If they were enough, you wouldn’t have been specifically requested to help,” said Robin.

“You’re going to be too paranoid and overprotective of Dabi to consider having fun for yourself,” Tokoyami added, the traitor.

“I will not,” Hawks lied.

“Boss, you panicked about Dabi going to the grocery store,” said Aero.

“You keep asking whether we think different burn cream brands might work better for him,” said Robin.

“You had such a vivid nightmare about the Commission getting hold of him during your lunch nap yesterday that we thought you were dying,” said Tokoyami.

Okay, below the belt. No one needed to remind Hawks of that nightmare. He tactfully chose not to address any of those things, and said instead, “Why are you all speaking in order like that? Did you plan this? No, don’t answer that. There’s no way I’m predictable enough for you to have practiced this.”

Their dead-eyed looks told him that he was very predictable.

“We’re just worried that you’re biting off more than you can chew,” Robin sighed. “We always knew you overworked yourself, and now that all that information is coming out of the Commission trials, it’s a lot worse than we thought. We never realized that ‘working yourself into the grave’ was ‘slacking off’ by their standards. Do you have any semblance of a work-life balance?”

“Not really,” Hawks admitted quietly.

They all slumped, exasperated but relieved that he’d at least admitted it.

“I’m getting better, though,” said Hawks. “I think Dabi’s applied for a role as my conscience. He’s one hundred percent ready and willing to call me out on stupid choices and failures to take care of myself. And—look! He made me lunch!”

He proudly set a bento atop his desk, wrapped up in a chicken-patterned furoshiki.

Aero considered it. “What’s inside?”

Hawks snatched it back quickly. “That’s for me to learn, and you to never find out.”

Aero’s brows raised. Robin snorted. Tokoyami looked resigned.

“The Bachelorette also kind of helped,” said Hawks. “Being stuck in one place like that made me slow down and get a better sleep schedule. Not, like, better by your standards, but way better than I was before. Having Dabi remain a constant has helped me keep that up.”

“You are leaving the office at a decent hour these days,” Robin agreed, but a grin was spreading across her face. “If he’s helping you sleep better, I can see why—”

“Oh my god, Robin, it’s not like that,” said Hawks.

“Isn’t it? If he’s giving you loving wife bentos—”

“He is not!”

“Nagging you about your health—”

“You were literally doing the same thing just a minute ago, you hypocrite!”

“Living in your apartment—”

“I will fire you, Robin, I swear to god.”

“Is there really nothing between you?” Tokoyami piped up.

He wasn’t teasing, but oddly concerned. It shouldn’t have been surprising. He was a sincere and straightforward kid. He always managed to pull honesty out of Hawks, which was probably why the sidekicks had drawn him in so fast. So now, Hawks didn’t grumble or lie. He sighed, let his wings droop, and said, “No. There’s not. He’s—he’s straight.”

“Oh,” said Tokoyami.

His disappointment was palpable. Aw, Hawks’ intern wanted to see him happy. Hawks fixated on that instead of his own frustration and pulled himself back together.

“He’s a good friend, though,” he said brightly. “Friends are good for mental health! I need a lot of that. Hey, speaking of fiery, blue-eyed chaos magnets, I’m due to have lunch with Endeavor today. Want to come along? We can make a few arrests right under his nose, introduce you to the paperwork that comes from work in another agency’s district… U.A.’s focusing on team maneuvers and cooperation, right? You’ll probably need to do a lot of that kind of paperwork in the future. Plus, you can have lunch with your classmates!”

Tokoyami blinked, surprised by the change in attitude, but eventually nodded. “That could prove useful. If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Not at all!” said Hawks.

It would be no trouble because he had ulterior motives, but Tokoyami didn’t need to know that. If he spun it as a positive, why should anyone care?

Tokoyami may have been improving at flying, but getting to Endeavor’s agency all the way from f*ckuoka was way too far for him to be comfortable traveling fast enough, especially during the daytime. It was much better for them to take a ride on the bullet train. This was, of course, not done without any fanfare. Outside the train station Hawks was nearly mobbed by fans, and even inside the station and while boarding a few brave souls approached for autographs.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Tokoyami muttered, as yet another girl fled squealing to her seat, claiming that she’d never wash her arm again now that it bore some sharpie ink.

“You don’t have to do it yourself if you don’t want to,” Hawks chuckled, settling down into his own seat. He’d staked out a spot near the back where seats were better modified for heteromorphic quirks, and it was nice and cushy. “Everybody’s got their own threshold for the fanbase. I mean, look at Endeavor! He’s got some diehard fans but they don’t go mobbing him in the streets because they know he hates it. What you have to do at the beginning of your career is set a precedent. Be nice and gentle about it, and you’ll see that those people who appreciate you will follow your lead because they care about your comfort. If you can spin your comfort levels into your hero persona that’ll make it even better. Seriously. If you’ve got some chivalrous I am the darkness vibes going, you can keep a semi-distance and they’ll lap it up.”

“Is that what you did?” said Tokoyami.

“That’s right! My PR team had that locked down even before I debuted—”

“Then,” said Tokoyami. He faltered, then continued quieter, “Was it your own comfort levels that you enforced, or what they wanted?”

Hawks snorted. “What do you think?”

Tokoyami shrank down in his seat. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, now, don’t feel down about it!” said Hawks. “There are exceptions every once in a while, but my fans are great people and I’m glad to see them! I’ve grown pretty comfortable with the fame I’ve got. It’s true, I’ll probably reevaluate a few things once this whole mess blows over, but don’t go thinking that I’m screaming inside every time a kid wants me to sign his backpack.”

He steered the conversation back onto Tokoyami—what’s your comfort level? Do you have a hero persona in mind? What are you looking forward to once you’re out on your own?—and Tokoyami settled as the train sped along. Eventually their talk was cut off as a text came in, and Tokoyami’s attention was captured by the screen. Hawks deliberately did not look at whatever he was texting, but from the corner of his eye he could see that high-rarity gothic charm dangling from the phone case, and that made him smile.

Hawks looked out the window for a distraction. The train was moving at good speed, but larger buildings and ads were still very much visible.

There was a glowing, electronic Bachelor In Paradise billboard. The “O” of the title was conspicuously shaped like an engagement ring, its background a blue sky and waves rolling up a sandy beach, with two photoshopped heart-shaped clouds interlocking.

“Wow,” he laughed to himself. “I really can’t escape that, can I?”

Because he was set to leave for Paradise in less than a week.

It had been almost two months now since that fateful day when he and Dabi had been dismissed from The Bachelorette. Almost two months since he’d reached his hotel room, turned on his phone, and gotten the horrible call that he’d been wrong: the H.P.S.C. did want Dabi dead, and it had nothing to do with being Hawks’ friend.

“He’s one of the informants that helped us shut down the Nomu factories,” Jeanist had told him, insufferably calm when Hawks felt like he was having his sixth breakdown of the day.

The only way the H.P.S.C. would want someone dead over the Nomu factories was if there was some tie back to them. The very idea made Hawks feel sick, and knowing it was something of this magnitude… the Commission would never stop. They would keep hunting Dabi until one side or the other was dead and in the ground. If their ties to All For One and Nomu came to light, after all, there would be no PR campaign strong enough to shield them from the public and heroes at large. Even worse: since they couldn’t do their own dirty work, the Commission had released some of the worst criminals of Tartarus to hunt down their enemies. Overhaul of all people had gone and attacked the League, and now all of Dabi’s bandmates had seemingly vanished into thin air. Dabi wasn’t safe. Not safe at all.

When Jeanist asked Hawks to stay on longer, to protect Dabi, he’d agreed in an instant.

Thankfully Dabi had already been interested in Paradise (another round of Paragon-provided witness protection, here we go), and had easily agreed to stay with Hawks during the downtime between shows.

Dabi had been staying at Hawks’ apartment for almost two months now. Sometimes it was stupidly awkward. Other times Hawks felt like his dumb crush on the man was growing to the point of suffocation. Could he really be blamed, though? Dabi was so cool, and so easygoing. Hawks never felt like he had to perform in his presence. It was really refreshing.

Having Dabi at his apartment also put his mind at ease because it meant a massive security team was quietly monitoring him as well.

His little visit to Endeavor’s agency today was Dabi-related, too. Since Endeavor had been strategically held back from Tensei’s public mutiny plot, the H.P.S.C. seemed to think the Number One hero was still in their pocket. It gave Tensei’s group a lot more maneuvering room, and Endeavor was using this to better keep everyone informed of things the Commission shared with him rather than the public. Hawks was on his way to pick up some reports.

Hawks and Tokoyami arrived in Endeavor’s territory in late morning and took to the skies. They managed two arrests just on their way to the agency, so by the time they entered the big, glassy building, Hawks was feeling pretty full of himself.

“Told you he’d be here within the hour,” said one of Endeavor’s sidekicks. “Pay up.”

“No, no, you’re the one paying up, because I’m the one who bet he’d catch a villain on the way,” said another sidekick.

“I am the winner,” Burnin’ declared, shoving the both of them aside, “because I’m the one who bet he’d bring the intern! What’s up, U.A. brat?”

“That label doesn’t apply to Tokoyami,” said Shouto. He and two of his fellow interns—Midoriya and Bakugo—were trailing behind Burnin’ all sweaty and singed, so they’d either been on a rough patrol themselves or they’d just gotten out of the training field. Shouto looked remarkably blasé despite the dishevelment. “Aizawa doesn’t consider him a problem child.”

“I—well—of course he does!” cried Midoriya in a slight panic. Clearly ‘problem child’ was an honorable title among their class. “I mean, he took out Moonfish—”

“No,” Shouto insisted. “He is simply Aizawa’s child. No problem about it.”

“You’re all brats as far as I’m concerned,” said Burnin’. “So, brats! New job! Escort Hawks up to the big man. I’ve got an office betting ring to sort out.”

“f*cking ridiculous,” Bakugo scoffed. “We’re not here to be f*cking tour guides!”

“Language, brat, or we’re sending you back to Best Jeanist for another hairstyling!” Burnin’ laughed as she sauntered away.

Bakugo grumbled something about “Cannot f*cking believe—” but Shouto turned his mismatched eyes on the visitors and said, “We’ll take you up to Endeavor’s office. Are you here for lunch?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” said Tokoyami.

“We have an hour break for lunch, so it shouldn’t be any trouble at all,” said Midoriya as they started walking. “Did you bring anything to eat? If you didn’t, we’ve found some good options nearby that we can take you to!”

“I’ve brought my own lunch, but I think Tokoyami here might appreciate the company,” said Hawks.

They stepped onto the elevator, most of them chatting about food choices, but as the doors closed Shouto’s eyes were fixed unnervingly on Hawks.

“What kind of lunch?” he asked.

Hawks laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know, yet! I didn’t pack it.”

“Dabi packed it, didn’t he?” said Shouto.

Hawks laughed even more awkwardly. “Now, where would you get that idea?”

“You’re friends,” said Shouto.

“And…?” said Hawks.

“And no one’s seen him since The Bachelorette ended,” said Shouto. “That’s very impressive. He has a lot of fans. The only way he wouldn't have been spotted yet is if someone with experience is helping him hide.”

“He could have other friends to help him with that!” said Hawks.

Shouto didn’t even pretend to consider that. “Is he okay? He seemed fine on the Men Tell All episode, but that experience at Seiai Academy wasn’t pleasant.”

Because Shouto had been there to save them from killer robots. What a weird day that had been. It was nice to see that the littlest Todoroki appreciated Dabi, though.

“He’s fine,” Hawks chuckled. “Last I heard, he’s trying out a bunch of weird recipes. So many times he’s come up with something downright inedible, so he breaks out the soba noodles instead. So much soba.”

“Oh,” said Shouto.

The word wasn’t much, but his expression brightened with it. Aw, he really was Dabi’s fan, wasn’t he? Hawks’ smile grew a little more genuine to match.

“Have you kissed yet?” asked Shouto.

All of Hawks’ pleasant thoughts went out the window while the other interns choked and Bakugo downright cackled.

“I—What? No!” he squawked. “Why would you ask that?”

“Was I not supposed to?” said Shouto, blinking guilelessly.

Tokoyami patted Shouto on the arm, tone almost pitying as he said, “Hawks thinks that Dabi’s straight.”

“You cannot be serious,” said Bakugo.

“What?” said Hawks, who did not like the sudden judgement from a gaggle of highschoolers.

“That man is as straight as a boomerang,” said Bakugo.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya whispered, eyes sparkling. “You’ve been paying attention!”

“How could I not when you’re all watching the show on the only f*cking TV in our only f*cking common room?” Bakugo snapped.

“So it is obvious,” said Shouto, as if double checking.

“Damn right! Get your act together, spoonbill!” said Bakugo.

“Language,” said Tokoyami.

“Get your act together, senpai,” said Bakugo, with the honorific dripping in disgust.

“Have you all considered that maybe Dabi going on The Bachelorette for a woman and participating in Bachelor in Paradise also for a woman might have some kind of weight?” said Hawks.

“No,” said Shouto.

“I mean, he could be bi,” said Midoriya.

“Look in a goddamn mirror,” said Bakugo.

“A mad banquet of darkness,” said Tokoyami.

Oh, this was hopeless. Hawks needed to change the topic stat.

“I’ve got a question for you, Shouto! Unrelated!” he said, forcing enthusiasm.

“Ah,” said Shouto, straightening up. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“It’s happening already? He knows?” Midoriya gasped.

Know about what? Hawks sort of wanted to scream but powered on: “I was wondering how you managed to get Endeavor to take your classmates on, too. Endeavor would’ve made an exception for you of course, but I never imagined him willing to take on more student interns. He’s never done it before, after all.”

“Oh,” said Shouto. “That’s what you wanted to ask?”

“Yes?” said Hawks, confused. “What did you expect me to ask?”

Shouto hummed and looked back at the door. “It doesn’t matter. As for my father, he of course wanted me to intern with him. I told him that I come as a pack. Buy one, get two free. Do not separate.”

“That’s what you told him?” Midoriya squawked.

“I told him he had to take it or leave it,” said Shouto.

“But I— But that’s—”

Midoriya looked pained, but Shouto was completely unrepentant. Bakugo snickered; apparently the idea of bullying the Number One hero trumped the indignity of being considered part of a set. Hawks glanced at Tokoyami, who simply looked resigned; this kind of ridiculousness must be par for the course.

At last the elevator doors opened and they found themselves in the hallway to Endeavor’s office. Hawks had been here many times before but let Shouto and the interns take the lead. Shouto knocked on the open door and called, “Hawks is here.”

“Send him in,” Endeavor rumbled.

“We’ll be taking our break in the meantime,” said Shouto, and led the others away without so much as a goodbye.

Hawks stepped into the office and said, “Hey, Number One! How’s it going?”

“Hawks,” Endeavor said flatly.

It had not been a patrol day for him; judging by the mountains of paperwork around him he’d been stuck in here for a long time, and his reading glasses had left little dents across the bridge of his nose. Hawks winced in sympathy.

“Right, right, paperwork. That sucks.”

“I take it you’re here for the Wolfram case update?” said Endeavor.

A few months ago a villain called Wolfram and his crew had made plans to invade I-Island during its expo to try kidnapping David Shield and stealing his inventions. This had fallen through quietly but rather spectacularly, and Tensei’s mutiny club had coopted it as a cover for their investigations.

“Exactly!” Hawks chirped. “Maybe your quirk is actually psychic abilities. Psychic-fire, I’m pretty sure I heard from my interns there’s a pokemon like that—”

“Hawks, I have two forms to complete,” Endeavor said tersely. “Two. I will finish. Then we’ll talk. Can you be quiet until then?”

Particularly soul crushing paperwork today, then. Got it. Hawks mimed zipping his lips, leaned back on his heels, and took his time to inspect the office. Most of it was pretty boring (big desk, no-nonsense lamps, bookcases filled with volumes on hero laws and first aid), but on the side wall he spotted a large, framed drawing. It appeared to be a scribbled, crayon depiction of Endeavor himself, hand in hand with a much smaller fire hero.

“Aw, this is cute,” said Hawks, unable to help himself. “Is this from a fan?”

Endeavor stilled. “Yes,” he said quietly.

Hawks hummed with interest. Endeavor was notoriously bad with fans. The last time Hawks had seen the man so much as look at a child, the kid had burst into tears. This one must’ve been a real brave kid to face the flaming scowl long enough to hand off some artwork. Sure, childish doodles came in alongside fan letters all the time, but this was the only one gracing Endeavor’s office and that meant it had to be important. Maybe it was an emblem of the man’s growth. Something to strive for. Proof that other people were recognizing his change. Hawks sidled closer and squinted to try making out the wobbly hiragana. Hang on a second…

“Dad?” he read aloud, incredulous. “Is this from Shouto?”

“No,” said Endeavor. His eyes stayed resolutely on his paperwork, but his hands hadn’t moved. “Shouto isn’t my only child.”

“I’ve seen Fuyumi, but this, uh…” Hawks co*cked his head, but that little crayon hero definitely didn’t have glasses or Fuyumi’s streaked hair—it was all red.

“I had four children,” said Endeavor. “My eldest drew that picture.”

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t look like Fuyumi to me.”

“His name was Touya.”

He spoke with a quiet resignation that sent off several alarm bells in Hawks’ head. When prodded for information Endeavor was the sort who got flustered and growly, not whatever this was. The phrasing had also been damning. His name was Touya. Past tense. Hawks leaned back again, smile gone from his face.

“Can I ask what happened?”

“I was a bad father,” said Endeavor. “Touya’s quirk was self-destructive. I tried to stop him from using it entirely, when I should’ve been teaching him how to minimize damage.” He closed his eyes like the memory pained him. “He died in a training accident on Sekoto Hill.”

Hawks hadn’t known about the Todorokis’ involvement, but he’d heard about the blaze on Sekoto Hill.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. You weren’t involved.” Endeavor seemingly gave up on his paperwork. He sorted it into somewhat more manageable piles and stood. He fixed Hawks with a sad, contemplative eye. “He would’ve been about your age. You might have been friends.”

Well, that was wonderfully depressing. A compliment, yeah, but depressing.

Endeavor handed him a slim sealed file, which Hawks stowed in a large pocket on the inside of his coat. He intended to read it once he was back in f*ckuoka; even when Endeavor served as the middleman to these kinds of information drops, he wasn’t taking point on this operation and would have no further information than Hawks did. It must’ve been aggravating.

In silence the two of them locked and left the office. Endeavor’s agency had several different break rooms including a large office cafeteria with a multitude of windows, and this was the one they gravitated to. The room was entirely empty save for the interns, who were apparently pointing out their destination through the glass. Tokoyami looked up as the two heroes entered and called, “Ah, Hawks. We’re going to get okonomiyaki. Do you want us to bring anything back?”

Bakugo scoffed loudly. “Does he have the self-awareness to know he wants anything brought back?”

“Hey, excuse you,” said Hawks. “Just because you’ve got some weird ideas about The Bachelorette—”

“He’s hopeless,” said Bakugo, rolling his eyes.

Tokoyami looked like he was internally praying for patience. “Anything you need?”

“I’m fine,” Hawks grumbled. “Go get your food before your break’s up.”

The interns moved out quickly and Hawks sat down at a table next to the windows. Endeavor took the seat opposite him and started unpacking his own lunch. Hawks set his bento on the table, but his hands stilled on the tie of the furoshiki.

He felt… foolish. Here he was with Dabi’s homemade bento that, yeah, looked a lot like the wife- or girlfriend-provided lunches his sidekicks swooned over. Was it really so romance-coded? He’d only managed to stay sane by assuring himself that this was just a totally platonic kindness. He was constantly second guessing himself these days. Yes, he wished this wasn’t platonic. Yes, he wished he was in a position to have kissed Dabi. For so many things Dabi did Hawks told himself not to read too far into it, because if he let himself see only what he wanted to see, he’d ruin things with Dabi entirely; that was horrifying. Hawks wasn’t practiced in any of this friendship or romance enough to know what anything meant. But if other people were seeing things and drawing those kind of conclusions… Maybe it was worth making some kind of move.

Was he really sure about this?

Even if by some miracle Dabi agreed to give him a chance, could Hawks do this right? He had no idea what he was doing! What if he failed at romance again? Did he even know for sure that this was real romantic feeling or just really really best friend sort of feeling?

Was it worth potentially messing everything up?

Hawks glanced out the window and saw another Bachelor in Paradise billboard. He grimaced and looked back at Endeavor, who’d just taken out his chopsticks (they looked almost like toothpicks when he held them like that), and a lightbulb went on in his head.

“I have a, uh, kind of stupid question, but I’d like your opinion on it,” he said before he could think better of it, finally unwrapping the furoshiki. “Most of the people I’m talking to are my age, so I want someone with more maturity to weigh in, and, you know, all those mature adults on the talk shows and whatever are all sensationalists so I can’t really count on their opinions to be genuine or worthwhile—”

“Get to the point, Hawks,” said Endeavor, eating a piece of fish.

“If you give me your opinion, I’ll know it’s what you’re honestly thinking,” said Hawks. “Also, you got married. You have kids. You’ve got experience with this sort of thing.”

Endeavor eyed him more warily. “I just told you that I was a bad father.”

“And you’re owning up to that,” Hawks pointed out. “You’ve got perspective.”

“What are you asking, Hawks?”

“I— Well—” Hawks wilted a little. Earlier, that little lightbulb of I’ll ask my idol for advice had seemed like such a good idea. The real possibility of looking stupid in front of said idol was not so great. Ugh. He could get through this. He really needed another perspective to keep from spiraling. “I suppose, I’ll start out with… How did you know when you were in love?”

Endeavor went very still. He frowned down at his lunch like it had done him some great wrong. “This is about that Dabi person, from The Bachelorette, right?”

Hawks valiantly suppressed a wince. “Nailed it! I thought you weren’t watching The Bachelorette, though?”

“I asked Burnin' and Fuyumi to keep me updated with it,” said Endeavor. Aw, he did care. A pause, then he said, “I’m not a good authority on romance.”

“Then tell me from the perspective of what not to do,” said Hawks.

Endeavor frowned even harder at his food as he presumably gathered his thoughts. Hawks allowed him some space, picking instead at his own bento. Dabi had packed a variety of food in the little box: karaage, a little rolled omelet, rice balls, and some vegetables. It was good. Really good. f*ck, he would miss this when Dabi left. He only looked up again when Endeavor heaved a sigh. Endeavor looked very tired, and very sad.

“When I first started looking for a wife, it wasn’t for affection,” he said. “I went through a matchmaker. There was no love at first sight. No coincidence. Nothing that would strike anyone else as romantic. My requirement was that I needed a woman with a compatible quirk. I wanted to have children with my fire, but without the risk of overheating.”

Oof. That was some damning wording.

“A quirk marriage?” said Hawks, in a deceptively light tone. “I thought those were outlawed a while back…”

“Legally it was just another match, but for all intents and purposes, yes. It was a quirk marriage,” said Endeavor. “There are many quirks that would be compatible with mine. Temperature manipulation, for one. Increased ventilation. Rei’s…” He paused, brow bunching and frown dipping even lower with shame, as if just speaking her name was a sin. His voice became much quieter. “Rei’s was an ice quirk. While it had potential, it was on the lesser side of compatibility. Throwing powerful, opposite emitter quirks together couldn’t be guaranteed to help anything. Her parents were very insistent, though. They seemed to have some sway over the matchmaker and convinced her to set up multiple interviews with their daughter. At first I was determined to find a polite way to reject her, but every time the matchmaker would make excuses and set up another interview. It was frustrating. But it also gave me a chance to see Rei relax. To pick up on her more subtle sense of humor. I would bring flowers to all the interviews because I wanted to make a good impression, and every time she would smile and make little jokes about them. Once, by accident, I happened to bring a bouquet with her favorite flowers. The way she looked, then… The happiness… I thought to myself, this is the one. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the optimum quirk. It didn’t matter how poor her family was. I looked at her and envisioned a bright future, where I could keep that smile on her face. Whatever children we had would be loved. We would have a home.”

“Damn,” Hawks murmured. “You said it started bad, but… that does sound kind of romantic.”

The wistfulness in Endeavor’s expression immediately shut down.

“It didn’t matter,” he growled. “I entered my marriage knowing that I’d chosen Rei over our children’s quirks. And before those quirks presented, we were happy. But then Touya’s self-destructive flames came in, and all I could feel was shame. I had ruined him. I’d made the choice to combine the wrong abilities, and he was forced to live with the consequences of my bad decisions. I tried to help him. Tried to keep him from using his quirk, to pull him away from heroics, but all I did was make it worse. I punished myself. I punished Rei. I ordered her to do things when I should’ve sat down and asked her opinion, so we could find the best way to keep the boy we loved safe, together. I demanded things from her that she wasn’t comfortable giving, and didn’t listen when she tried to reason with me. I forgot that beautiful thing I’d wanted to throw away my ambitions for. The smiles and the flowers were gone. I hadn’t given her happiness, just driven her to misery. My good intentions at the start meant nothing. So that moment of realization, that belief that you love someone, doesn’t matter. A year’s worth of those moments doesn’t matter. Love is work. It’s a continuous task, where you always have to weigh someone else’s thoughts and desires along with your own. There are compromises. It doesn’t always work. But you have to try, and I only ever tried for the wrong things. I loved Touya, so I neglected him in an attempt to keep him safe. I loved Fuyumi and Natsuo, so I tried to limit the damage I could do to them with my presence. I loved Shouto, so I was harsh with him because the idea of losing him the way we’d lost Touya was horrifying to me. I justified a lot of things as love, when really it was my own selfishness and guilt. I never listened to them. Never weighed their happiness. It would have been better for them if I never pretended at love at all.”

That was… rough. It was only a broad overview but it hinted at a lot of disturbing things that made Miruko’s sudden and vehement dislike of Endeavor make sense. The hero looked so honestly miserable about it, though, that Hawks couldn’t help but reach out.

“Hey,” he said gently, “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself there—”

“It’s the truth, and it’s taken me too long to recognize it,” said Endeavor. “I was not a good person back then, Hawks. I question whether I am even now.”

“You are trying, though,” Hawks pointed out.

“Too little, too late,” Endeavor sighed, and moved on before Hawks could try arguing the point. “As a hero, love would be difficult for you. You work long hours and will come home tired. Many people bring their work home with them, and that can drive a significant other away. You need to be able to set time aside for them, to respect and prioritize them as much as possible, and you can’t let your status as a hero get to your head and make you think that your opinion is the most valid in any situation. You need to stand back and listen, and if you’re not ready to do that, you shouldn’t enter any kind of romantic relationship.”

“Yeah, that… that makes sense,” Hawks muttered. “Divorce statistics for heroes are way higher than the rest of the population…”

Endeavor met his eye with a gaze that could only be more intense if he turned on that fire beard. “Think of Dabi, right now.”

“Um, okay?” Hawks squeaked.

“Are you ready to fight with him?” said Endeavor. “No meaningful relationship on earth, romantic or platonic, will avoid a fight. You’ll disagree on something and you’ll both get heated about it. Are you ready for that situation? And are you willing to back down and admit when you are wrong? Are you willing to let go of control?”

The idea of fighting Dabi about anything sort of made Hawks’ stomach knot up, but hadn’t they had disagreements before? Hadn’t they gotten to the friendship stage in the first place because they snapped at each other about Stain and the H.P.S.C.?

Hawks returned that intense gaze and said, “Yes.”

“Are you ready to listen to his concerns, no matter how slight, to appease them and incorporate his wishes into your life?”

“Yes,” said Hawks.

“Do you want to make him happy?” said Endeavor.

“I do,” said Hawks.

“Make sure that doesn’t change,” said Endeavor. “Always remember that a significant other is your partner, not an accessory, so what makes you happy doesn’t necessarily do the same for them.”

Hawks nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” Endeavor relaxed a little. “I’m not a good resource on anything else. If you’re questioning your feelings, only you can figure that out. I’m inclined to say you know those feelings already if you asked me about this, though.”

“I—Well, I think I do,” said Hawks, looking bashfully down at his food. “It’s just so different for me. I haven’t been allowed to think this way, you know?”

Endeavor’s eyes narrowed. “You are allowed now.”

“But like you said, my feelings aren’t the only ones that matter,” said Hawks. “How do I know Dabi isn’t going to find it gross or reject me? What if I mess it up?”

“Fuyumi thinks your feelings are reciprocated.” Endeavor said it like her opinion was some sort of judge’s gavel, an unturnable edict.

“Yeah, okay, but Fuyumi’s also been watching us on TV, where the editors have free reign to make innocent comments seem like villainous manifestos, and one little bit of word choice can damn somebody’s shot at love forever. Dabi’s not nearly as easy to read as the producers want you to believe.”

“Has he told you that he’s not interested?”

“Well…”

“With words,” said Endeavor. “Has he looked at you and told you that he doesn’t find you attractive?”

“No, but that would’ve been basically the death penalty in that mansion,” said Hawks.

“He’s not in the mansion right now,” said Endeavor. “You gave him the option to live with you until Paradise starts. He agreed.”

“He was kind of coerced,” Hawks argued. “I mean, his home is gone. Rubble. Decimated. And he knows that somebody’s after him. It makes sense for his own safety for him to stick with someone strong and high profile. I don’t want him to feel pressured! What if he doesn’t like me but says yes to whatever advances just for physical protection?”

Endeavor rubbed at the bridge of his nose as if he was gaining a headache. “It’s… admirable that you’re so worried about his comfort, but remember what I said about listening. My biggest mistake with Rei was that I didn’t communicate, and I didn’t trust her. Do not make my mistakes.”

The cafeteria door opened and a loud group of sidekicks came in, so Hawks didn’t dare carry on with such a sensitive subject. He smiled instead and said, “Thanks, Endeavor. You made a lot of good points.”

Endeavor harrumphed and returned to his food, and Hawks ate his own lunch with gusto.

At the end of the hour break the interns returned. The okonomiyaki restaurant must not have been as relaxing as Hawks had thought, because while there had been no report of villains, all of them had stray bonito flakes clinging to them and Midoriya was trying desperately to scrub a spot of sauce off of his costume.

“Do I want to know?” asked Hawks.

“Nope!” chirped Dark Shadow.

“You really don’t,” said Tokoyami.

“Great, then let’s never speak of it,” said Hawks.

Shouto, meanwhile, had set his eyes on Endeavor. “We’re going to be leaving now. Mr. Aizawa sent out a text to the class asking everyone to come back to school early.”

“For what?” said Endeavor, suspicious— as he should be. U.A.’s students had been targeted by Nomu, and if there was some Commission plot to kill Dabi over sharing Nomu information that likely meant the program wasn’t as dead as they’d hoped.

“D-D-David Shield is here!” Midoriya squeaked. “He came in for a surprise visit with All Might! He’s the best in the world when it comes to support gear, so they want us to have time to talk with him! It’ll be invaluable!”

Midoriya was downright sparkling with excitement. Shouto meanwhile had his usual blank stare going.

“So we’ll be leaving,” said Shouto.

“Is it alright if I leave with them?” said Tokoyami.

“Sure! I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the opportunity,” said Hawks. “Good thing we came up this way today, or you may not have been able to make it.”

Tokoyami’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know he was coming today?”

“Tokoyami! I’m wounded!” cried Hawks, clapping a hand to his chest in dismay. “You think I’d hide such information from you?”

“I take it back, he’s not a spoonbill. He’s a ham,” Bakugo grumbled.

“For real, though, feel free to fly the coop for the day,” said Hawks, ignoring him. “I’ll see you the next time you come down to f*ckuoka.”

The little interns left again, Midoriya muttering a mile a minute from excitement while the others teased him and Shouto reached out for the stain, to test if his quirk could be combined and repurposed into a mobile washing machine (it could not). Endeavor retreated to his office to carry on with his sad fate of paperwork, and Hawks took to the sky.

“Oh my god,” he muttered to himself, as he soared past another Bachelor in Paradise billboard. “What kind of budget do they have on this season?”

There was no way other seasons had gotten this kind of advertising. Even he would’ve noticed. Maybe they were hyping it up to take advantage of Hawks’ presence on the show?

He was tilting dismally westward when he realized someone was on the roof, taking a selfie with the billboard. Almost immediately his own phone buzzed, and when he pulled it out there was Rumi’s smug selfie, with the subtitle, does this make you a bird of paradise?

“No,” he said, dropping down onto the asphalt of the roof next to her. “No, it very much does not.”

Rumi had either seen or heard him coming, because her sh*t-eating grin didn’t falter. “Are you sure? All your crazily colored clothes back up my claim. Are you going to dance? Going to show off your pretty feathers?”

“My feathers are plenty pretty as they are,” Hawks huffed.

“I’m teasing,” Rumi snickered, stowing her phone again. “For real, though. The Vogelkop Superb bird of paradise? It gives me some real Dabi vibes.”

The name meant nothing, but it had to be that black and blue one.

“Ha! He’d hate that,” said Hawks. “Please, say that to his face when you meet him.”

“I will, once he’s warmed up to the idea,” said Rumi. “How is he doing, by the way? Settling in well?”

It was nothing they hadn’t already discussed by text, but Hawks was happy to reply, “I think so! He’s practically a hermit, which makes complete sense if he’s paranoid about being hunted by Overhaul, but he’s relaxed and started going out more often now. Last week we went out for an incognito yakiniku dinner, and there’s this super fancy kaiseki place I’m this close to convincing him to try! I can tell he’s tempted but I think he looked at the prices online and got skittish…"

Rumi gave a commiserating wince. “Yeah, from what I hear he wasn’t too well off financially before he went on The Bachelorette. He might be pretty anxious now that he’s homeless on top of that.”

“He’s kind of weird about it, though,” said Hawks, rubbing his chin in thought. “Like, he’ll get antsy about menu prices, but then I’ll say I’m in the mood to eat watermelon, and he’ll just casually say ‘maybe we can get the square kind.’ Like… what? Aren’t those the most expensive watermelons in existence? Aren’t they more than ten thousand yen per melon? Even I don’t buy square watermelons! And he acts like he’s had them before!”

Rumi gasped. “Right? Oh my god, Fuyumi said the same thing!”

“Your girlfriend? Endeavor’s daughter?”

“Ugh, don’t even speak to me about Endeavor,” said Rumi, but her tone cheered right up again. “When we were talking about going on a picnic date, Fuyumi mentioned square watermelons! I guess her family bought them every once in a while when she was a kid because her mom thought they were funny and Endeavor had more than enough cash to waste. Apparently Fuyumi and her big brother would chant square, square, square while their mom cut it up. When I started cutting it up for the picnic she started saying it under her breath without even noticing!”

“That’s adorable,” said Hawks, smiling wider than he had all day; Rumi hadn’t been dating Fuyumi for very long but it was clear how much she cared when her words practically dripped with affection like this. “Uh, her brother… that was… Touya?”

Rumi paused to send him a judging look. “You know about Touya?”

Hawks shuffled his wings uncomfortably. He had the weird feeling that she was expecting something from him, and he didn’t know what it could be.

“Well. I know he died. Is it hard for her to talk about him? It was a long time ago but the big guy is still pretty torn up about it. I can’t imagine how it would’ve hurt the other kids.”

Rumi scrutinized him a little longer before rolling her eyes, and that tense little bubble of time popped. “Yeah, it was hard at first. Nobody in that family is over it. But Fuyumi likes to talk about him when she can. She doesn’t like the idea of him being forgotten.” She mulled on it for a moment before the grin was back and she said, “Back to you, though! How are you handling having Dabi around twenty-four-seven?”

Now, this he could handle. It had been so awkward with the sidekicks, the interns, and Endeavor, but who was he fooling? Rumi had heard his sleep-deprived rambling after the earthquake, she knew exactly how far gone he was and there was no recovering his dignity. He simply (happily!) embraced it now.

“I always knew fire was my weakness,” Hawks said wistfully. “I just didn’t realize all the forms it could come in—”

“Oh my god,” Rumi groaned. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“He’s so hot,” said Hawks.

“That’s even worse!” she laughed.

“You’ll understand once you meet him in person,” said Hawks. “Well. No. You’re not into guys so you won’t, but you’ll come close to understanding!”

Rumi muttered something like “I understand a little better than you think.”

Normal people wouldn’t have picked up on that, but Hawks had super-hearing through his feathers. He raised a brow and said, “Oh? How’s that?”

Rumi pursed her lips for a moment, seemingly warring with herself before she replied, “I know the biggest bombshell about that guy, but I’m not going to tell you.”

“What?” he gasped dramatically. “How could you! Why not?”

“Because it’s not the sort of thing you’d let go. If you knew, Dabi would know, and you have told me about this man,” said Rumi, jabbing him in the chest for emphasis. “And if he knew that you knew, I’m ninety-nine percent certain that he’d take it as a threat and make a run for it. Not a good thing to have happening when he’s supposed to stay safe in one place.”

Well, that sent up plenty of warning flags.

Hawks kept pretending amusem*nt. “What could it possibly be? I already know about him burning down a Nomu factory and being hunted by Overhaul. How can your secret make him any more antsy?”

“You’d be surprised,” Miruko grumbled. “Look, it’s… not the sort of thing I think he’d sit on for too long. Not with you, anyway. If you get much closer I think he’s going to straight up tell you, and I think your relationship is going to be much healthier and happier if you give him the chance to say it himself.”

“That sounds so suspicious,” Hawks whined. “I hope you know that if anyone else was saying this to me I wouldn’t believe them for a minute. The only way I’m accepting it from you is because I know you won’t do me dirty after I got you out of that net last month—”

“Excuse me? You were the one stuck in the net,” said Miruko.

“I would never be caught in a net! I’d cut it with my feathers!” cried Hawks.

“Maybe, if you weren’t busy wiggling around like an idiot—”

They’d gone back and forth a few times before shrill voices interrupted them.

“Look, look, it’s Hawks!”

“Hawks, down here!”

“Oh my god, he’s even hotter in person!”

Hawks stifled a groan and leaned over the edge of the roof to shoot the fans below a practiced smile. “Hello, young ladies!”

There was a whole pack of them down there, and all of them started squealing.

“Well, as much as I love watching you entertain your fans, I’m going to take that as my cue to leave,” said Rumi. “I’ve got a patrol to finish and a date to get to.”

“Nice,” said Hawks. “Are you two going out to dinner?”

“I’ve convinced her to do karaoke,” said Rumi, with a wicked grin. “I’ll send you a video later!”

She gave him a short, mocking salute and bounded away to her patrol route, and Hawks waved as she went. He hoped they had fun. He’d only met Fuyumi twice, both times briefly, and she’d stuck him as the quiet, nervous sort of person. Maybe having a private karaoke room would set her at ease.

In the meantime he brought his attention back to the fans, waved, and called, “Sorry I can’t stick around! I’ve got a tight schedule before filming starts.”

They shrilled again at the attention regardless. He took flight once more, and as he went he heard “Don’t worry, Hawks! We appreciate all your work!” “We’ll support you on Paradise!” and the now-normal “Hotwings forever!”

He stifled a laugh in the collar of his coat and flew on.

By the time he reached f*ckuoka again dusk was settling in. A quick call on the wing had confirmed that his sidekicks had everything taken care of. A few months ago that wouldn’t have mattered; he’d have flown to the agency, sat behind his desk, and settled in for several more hours of work until he was the only one left beside the skeleton night crew, and half the time he’d simply crash on the couch in his office in the early hours of the morning instead of bothering to go home.

Now, though?

Now the H.P.S.C. had no power to scold him. He went straight to his apartment.

Hawks had never really liked his apartment. It suited his needs—a place to sleep, a place to store his things, and a place to show off if any cameras wanted a look at “the real Hawks”—but he’d never understood the draw or the comfort other people felt for their own homes. Maybe it was because an interior designer had picked out everything when he’d debuted as a hero and he’d never added to it (too much risk of Commission disapproval). What was the point in adding mess, anyway? He had things to do, people to save; he had no time to spend in the apartment, so why bother?

But then Dabi came over and made a mark.

It wasn’t much: the shifting of a throw blanket from one end of the couch to the other after use, a dirty mug left in the sink, and the marring of the counter after Dabi had spooked himself by setting off the fire alarm. They were small things, but proof of someone else’s existence, and every time Hawks saw one his chest swelled and he found it a little hard to breathe until he’d calmed down. It was stupid to be so thrilled over every new watermark that appeared on his coffee table (Dabi constantly complained about his lack of drink coasters), but every time he spotted one his brain would go, he’s here, he’s here, and rational thought tended to evaporate.

For years he’d tried as hard as possible to avoid the sterile walls of the apartment, but now he couldn’t wait to get back through the door.

“I’m back!” he trilled, sliding open the balcony door.

“Great,” Dabi drawled. “You’re just in time to end my misery.”

“Oh my god, is that Hawks?” a teenaged girl’s voice cried, somewhat distorted through the speakers of the phone Dabi had left on the coffee table. “What am I talking about? Who else would you be hanging out with? Hi, Hawks!”

A chorus of other voices joined hers, crackled to the point they were completely indecipherable.

Dabi was wrapped up in a new acquisition: a dark blue blanket patterned with stars. He’d turned himself into a particularly despondent burrito on the couch, and rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.

“Yeah, whatever, he’s got sh*t to do,” said Dabi. “Just get to the f*cking point. It’s been an hour and you haven’t gotten to the goddamn point.”

“Rude!” said the girl. Based on prior eavesdropping she was Toga. Pianist.

“f*ck yourself! Actually I’d like to take a nap too…” said a rougher man’s voice. If Hawks was right, this was Twice. Bassist.

“We really should be wrapping this up so we can get food and Dabi can be free for the rest of his evening,” said a woman. Magne. Lyricist. “Where’s the boss? Boss! Did you ditch us?”

And then came the rasp of Shigaraki. Drummer. “Are you finally f*cking done?”

“Excuse you, you’re the one who left in the middle of the conversation,” said Magne.

“Because it was stupid,” said Shigaraki.

“Amen,” said Dabi.

“Dabi, I’m hurt! We just wanted to connect with our poor, vacationing bandmate,” said Magne.

“You call all the f*cking time,” said Dabi.

“Well, this time we have good reason,” said Magne. “Boss?”

“We need to revamp the chorus of The Descent,” said Shigaraki.

“God, no,” Dabi groaned.

“We need the f*cking sound!” Shigaraki snapped. “You think I’d be calling you if we could make do with Spinner’s sh*tty guitar?” (“Hey,” said Spinner, offended) “No! So sit down, shut up, and the sooner we fix the damn melody the sooner I can go get a cup of tomato yogurt ramen and we can move on with our lives.”

“You disgust me,” said Dabi.

“Honey, that is not the weirdest thing he’s eaten recently,” said Magne.

“I don’t want to know,” said Dabi.

“It’s true. You really don’t.”

“Back on subject—”

As much as Dabi tried to act blasé about it, he got pretty self-conscious while singing. Hawks immediately chose to remove himself before this could become a problem.

Going to take a shower, he mouthed, pointing at the bathroom, and Dabi nodded in acknowledgement while the rest of the League squabbled. Hawks hurried away, but he left a feather just around the corner so he could listen in as he scrubbed off the sweat of the day.

Everyone involved in the Commission coup was very anxious to know whether the League made it out alright. They were all linked to the bar that traded information and the broker Giran, and Kurogiri in particular was a person of interest; he and Dabi had been the inside informants on the Nomu factories. No one knew where the League had gone and attempts to track them never turned up anything, but Hawks had been able to make observations on them like this. All members of the League were alive and unharmed. Kurogiri never came onto the line when Hawks was present, but the others referred to him as if he were present and whole as well. They sounded at ease. This gave everyone in the coup much better peace of mind; Eraserhead and Present Mic in particular had gone almost boneless with relief at the news. Efforts to find them certainly hadn’t stalled—everyone dreaded what would happen if Overhaul caught up first—but the League of Villains had proved a wily bunch, so Hawks’ eavesdropping was all they had at the moment.

Not that the eavesdropping turned up anything of national interest.

Mostly it was the near-familial squabbling over music, food, and TV shows.

Tonight there was a little bit of singing. Not much, because Dabi was annoyed and because as much as Shigaraki claimed they could ignore Spinner’s guitar he kept circling back to critique it. By the time Hawks left the shower and changed into comfier clothing, they’d all devolved into an argument over sharp and flat notes, which Hawks had zero knowledge of. Dabi looked spectacularly uninterested; he’d rolled his burrito so eyes fixed on the ceiling as he grunted one-word answers. When he noticed Hawks’ reappearance he sat up and said, “I’m leaving.”

“What?” cried Toga. “Look what you did, Shiggy, you scared Dabi away!”

“I’m not scared of sh*t,” Dabi shot back. “Hawks and I need to go get dinner so I’m not wasting any more time here.”

“Oh! Dinner, you say?” said Compress.

“f*ck off,” said Dabi, and ended the call with no further fanfare. He extricated himself from the blanket and stretched his hands over his head, enough to crack his back and make him wince before he flopped back down.

“Long day?” said Hawks, amused.

“So f*cking long,” said Dabi. “The moment I think I’m starting to miss those losers, they call and remind me why I escaped them for TV in the first place.” His eyes narrowed. “Yours was probably longer, though. What were you doing so far out of town?”

“You heard about my little trip?” said Hawks.

Dabi gestured at the TV. “Everyone heard about your little trip.”

Hawks shrugged, preening a little at the idea that Dabi might’ve seen him in action. Not that he hadn’t before, and not that it had been in person, but still. Hopefully impressive. “It was nothing too important, just bringing the intern back up toward U.A. so he could get back on time. Surprise guest speaker, and all. What are you thinking of for dinner?”

“I didn’t make anything,” said Dabi, and there was the slightest sense of uncertainty in his tone, as if he thought Hawks might be annoyed. He’d been making dinner himself every day that they hadn’t made prior plans, so maybe he was worried about breaking the trend.

“You made lunch,” Hawks shot back. “I think I made something in this kitchen, like, twice in all the years I’ve lived here. It’s no big deal.”

“No?” Dabi challenged, but that uncertainty had vanished and the smirk was returning to his face. “You didn’t bring me here to be a live-in chef?”

“If that were true, I’d be paying you,” said Hawks. “So, what sounds good? Going out to a restaurant? Ordering in? Surviving off rice crackers?”

“Those rice crackers in your cupboard are a year stale.”

“That’s why I said survive, not enjoy.”

Dabi hummed, then said, “I haven’t had cup ramen in a while.”

“Cup ramen it is!”

The two of them bundled up to make sure no random paparazzi would recognize them. Dabi had his tried-and-true black ensemble with the mask and sunglasses, while Hawks sported a baseball cap, sunglasses of his own, and an oversized Fat Gum hoodie that managed to hide half his feathers inside it.

“I still can’t believe you think that’s inconspicuous,” Dabi muttered as they left the building.

“It’s all about playing fans’ expectations against each other,” said Hawks. “A lot of the higher ranked heroes are so proud that they’re offended by fans approaching them with any hint of another hero’s branding on them, to the point where if you see somebody in hero gear it’s almost guaranteed to be either that hero or a regular civilian. Nothing in between.”

“Unless it’s All Might gear,” Dabi snorted.

“It’s true! All Might transcends all things,” said Hawks.

“So, what, since you’re so well-known people assume that you run by that same rule?” said Dabi.

“Exactly.”

And it was true. No matter how suspicious Hawks looked no one on the street tried to stop them, and any curious eyes quickly grew disinterested again as they took in the branding. The sign on the local 7-Eleven was already glowing, and the door rang out a little tune as they stepped inside. A bright store greeted them, the shelves almost overcrowded, the smell of meat buns wafting from the warmers near the cash register, and a cardboard cutout of Pro Hero Shishido advertising one of the store chain’s new protein snacks taking up most of the space in the entryway. Dabi’s head moved minutely, and even if Hawks couldn’t see his eyes behind those glasses it was clear he was scanning the store for threats. Not that Dabi would admit to that. No, he pretended nonchalance as he grumbled, “I think the clerk is the only thing in here that isn’t hero-branded.”

The clerk happened to be wearing an All Might pin on her apron. Hawks wisely chose not to point that out.

“Ramen, right?” he said, striding further inside. “I think it’s over this way…”

“You don’t already know? If you don’t cook and you don’t eat ramen, what have you survived on this long?” said Dabi, following his lead.

“Eh, the H.P.S.C. was pushing some kind of nutritional program,” said Hawks. “All your nutrients for the day in two protein bars and a shake. It’s convenient when you’re trying to eat on the go, but it was a slippery slope. Once you were on it long enough they started saying things like look, you don’t even need a lunch break! Plus it tasted awful. They tried putting me on it permanently around two years ago, but I made a deal with some guy to use his sickness quirk on me. There were only so many rounds of ‘program-induced illness’ they were willing to deal with before they determined continued use to be detrimental and I was freed from a life of dry, bland protein bars. The nutrition program survived as supplementary jelly packs. Those are still popular with heroes. I think Eraserhead would survive on them if he had the chance.”

“Every time you talk about this sort of thing I’m tempted to turn villain,” said Dabi.

“If anyone’s going to turn villain it’s going to be Rumi,” said Hawks.

“What, the rabbit?” Dabi scoffed.

“Dude, you’ve never been in the same room with her. You cannot understand the sheer menace that woman can contain,” said Hawks.

Dabi paused in front of the huge ramen selection to ponder this. “I suppose she did kick that Ending guy’s ass pretty ruthlessly…”

“And that was her on a good day. Never piss off Rumi,” said Hawks.

Dabi huffed again and picked up one of the ramen cups. He tipped it, realized it was Edgeshot-branded, and abandoned it to the shelf again. “And that’s the kind of person who’s dating Fuyumi Todoroki? I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised…”

“What surprises me is the fact that you knew Rumi’s girlfriend’s name before I told you,” said Hawks. “Endeavor’s pretty protective about any information about his kids.”

“Just because the information’s hard to get doesn’t mean it’s not there to find,” said Dabi.

That was true, but Dabi knew too much information for just about anything, really. Endeavor’s family members, U.A.’s entrance exams, the inner workings of the hero rankings… Had he cast such a wide net for self-preservation? Had all of these things factored into his own safety against the Nomu program and the H.P.S.C.? Or maybe it was just what he’d picked up after being affiliated with the info broker Giran for so long? Hawks burned with questions, but if he asked any of them right now he could only imagine Dabi getting defensive. He held his tongue instead as Dabi kept poking through the ramen selection.

“Why are there so many weird ones?” Dabi grumbled, already distracted from the previous topic. “Lemon ramen? Chocolate ramen? Cheese curry ramen? Ugh, natto ramen? Disgusting. Just give me a standard ramen.”

“I can’t help put but notice that there are a lot of plain ramen options, you just seem to be ignoring anything with hero branding,” said Hawks. He picked up a cup with his own smiling visage (he remembered the photoshoot vividly; the photographer had told him to “think sexy” and Hawks, having just come off of a brutal shift so long it had broken several labor laws, had flashed his teeth and thought valiantly of KFC) and held it up next to his face. “Get this one. Considering your company right now, you’re downright obligated. Nothing to do with heroics or rankings at all.”

“No, just your ego,” Dabi scoffed, but snatched it out of his hands.

They milled a little longer, piling more and more things inside the little convenience store handbasket: rice balls, a chicken katsu sandwich, melon bread, a curry bento, sweet potato croquettes, and a multitude of side dishes and desserts. Both of them were very hungry and their eyes were too big for their stomachs, because anything their attention lingered on for more than a second ended up in the basket. It was nearly overflowing by the time they went back to the checkout counter. It was of course at this moment that Dabi noticed the cashier’s pin and heaved a heavy sigh.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” asked the cashier, starting to scan their items. “And did you want me to heat up these items? The bentos?”

“Yes, and absolutely,” said Hawks.

The cashier popped the bento into the microwave behind her and carried on. Dabi meanwhile tipped his head to look at the ceiling, and in a strained whisper said, “You’ve got to be sh*tting me. Even the microwave isn’t safe.”

Because yeah, a laminated cutout of Endeavor with the speech bubble “WATCH ME” was taped to the microwave’s upper corner. Hawks patted Dabi’s shoulder in amused pity, but soon they were out of the store again with their purchases.

They returned to the apartment, and Hawks felt his heart squeeze again as Dabi maneuvered around the kitchen as easily as if it were his own. They sat at the table, the curry bento popped open and the cup ramen soaking, and started nibbling on the various sides they’d brought in.

“So, what did you get up to, today?” Hawks asked through a mouthful of croquette. “You had practice with the League, but was there anything else?”

“Slept,” said Dabi, and took a bite out of a rice ball.

“Who’d have guessed,” Hawks snickered.

“Looked for more recipes that might use up what’s left in the fridge,” Dabi continued, unbothered. “Watched some TV.”

“Anything good?”

“Hm. Bunch of game shows. One was Chocolate or Not Chocolate. Contestants had to try biting things throughout an office to see what item was made of chocolate. That one was weird.”

“What turned out to be the chocolate?”

“The stapler.” Dabi grimaced. “I suppose I can be happy that isn’t the reality TV hell I got dragged into.”

“No, you just got saddled with a bunch of violent quirk radicals,” Hawks chuckled.

“I’m so f*cking glad I never have to see any member of that book club again,” said Dabi. “They’re not being invited to Paradise at all, are they?”

“Not to my knowledge,” said Hawks, which in reality meant absolutely f*cking not. Nighteye might go on the warpath otherwise.

“Good,” said Dabi. “If they or Curious sneak in, I will resort to violence.”

“You will not be the only one,” Hawks said cheerily.

Dabi peeled back the lid of the ramen cup, judged it satisfactory, and dragged it in front of himself to dip in his chopsticks. “I watched the news, mostly. Are you aware that f*ckuoka is obsessed with you?”

“I’m basically their mascot,” said Hawks, amused. “I mean, you know that the baseball team here is the Hawks, right? Instant recognition.”

“No one on the TV said anything about baseball when it came to you,” said Dabi, raising a skeptical brow.

Hawks shrugged. “Yeah, well… I’m kind of an oddball. If heroes want to be famous, they tend to be more toward Tokyo. There were heroes here before me, for sure, but no big names. I’m just the home team they can rally behind. Local pride.”

“It’s a little excessive for local pride,” said Dabi. “Seriously, the reporter was doing a blow-by-blow commentary. He could’ve put Present Mic to shame.”

Hawks snickered at the thought. He was pretty sure he knew the news channel in question, but didn’t follow it much. It tended to prioritize sensationalism over fact-checking.

“Is that why you went up there today?” asked Dabi. “Getting the recognition to keep your rankings high?”

“I don’t need any more recognition right now. Bachelor in Paradise is marketing me for this season more than my PR team has in a decade,” said Hawks.

“Reality TV fame is one thing. Being seen next to the Number One hero is another,” said Dabi. His eyes were still fixed on his noodles but his tone had darkened. Hawks sensed danger.

“I wasn’t out on patrol with him, so I don’t think that counts,” said Hawks. “I was just bringing my intern up to rendezvous with the three he had working at the same time, so they can all go back to U.A. together. Figured I’d hit two birds with one stone, though, so I caught up with Endeavor over lunch. I had a weird conversation with him.”

“About?” Dabi said shortly.

sh*t, he wasn’t supposed to know about his own security detail. Hawks cast around desperately for anything else and said, “His children.”

If anything Dabi looked even more annoyed. “What about them?”

Okay? For whatever reason, Dabi seemed invested. Hawks decided to go with the flow and said, “He told me that he was a bad father.”

“Let me guess,” Dabi scoffed, “you don’t believe that.”

“Oh, no, I believe it,” said Hawks. “Put Endeavor and any of his children in the same room, and it’s obvious they don’t get along very well. It’s super awkward. But… he said before that he was going to change.” He pretended not to notice Dabi’s accusing glare and folded his hands over his stomach as he slouched to a more comfortable position. “I can see the change pretty clearly in his attitude toward heroics and the public. That doesn’t really mean anything inside the home, but his kids… They seem willing to wait and see what he does. Give him a chance. I figure they know the truth better than anyone, so I’ll take their lead on that front. I'll have to check in with them regardless to see how they're doing.”

He picked at his nail, weighing his options on whether it was a good idea or not to get a little more personal on that. He’d discovered that Endeavor was a real source of contention between the two of them; Endeavor had saved Hawks and been his shining example all through childhood, but Dabi hated the guy’s guts. Considering Dabi’s hatred of heroes it made sense, but he was particularly vehement about Endeavor. Maybe it would never be something they agreed on, but if Hawks wanted to keep this relationship in the long term—the closeness, the easy talks, that click—then there at least needed to be some understanding. So he tried.

“I had some bad parents, too,” he said. “They never even considered trying to change. It would’ve meant a lot to me if they had.”

Dabi’s face did something complicated. He looked down at his noodles again and muttered halfheartedly, “Some things are too little too late.”

“Ugh, you sound like him,” said Hawks.

“I f*cking do not,” snapped Dabi.

That was a cue to move on, so Hawks jumped at the chance to do so before it could get ugly.

“When it comes to beating Endeavor, I don’t have that many wins,” he said with a theatric sigh. “I thought for a while I had him beat with the depressing backstory but it sounds like I don’t have the lead there I thought I did. Arrests? Meh. But today I absolutely had him beat in one thing, and it was lunch quality. My bento was a hundred times better than his.”

Dabi choked and the healthy skin on his face went pink. “He saw you eating the f*cking bento?”

“He did!” Hawks crowed. “I’m sure he was super jealous. He was eyeing it like he wanted leftovers, but no! I wasn’t going to let anyone else eat it. It was all mine.”

“You are ridiculous,” said Dabi.

He was bashful, though. Proud, as Hawks kept rambling about the perfection of the food and how microwaved convenience store bentos really didn’t compare. Dabi always focused on the little things, didn’t he? Things that could be swept under the rug, or were more difficult to make personal; he’d insisted before that a lunch was just a lunch. But to Hawks, who’d never had the chance for those little things before, it meant the world. How wonderful, that those small things he wanted to sing praises for were the same things that Dabi seemed so shyly hopeful would be acknowledged.

Hawks watched as the tenseness faded from Dabi’s shoulders. How his eyes softened. How he was pretending not to smile. He was so beautiful like this.

Would you stay if I asked? Hawks wondered.

He didn’t ask. It would be too devastating if Dabi said no.

He would savor the moment as it was, as long as possible.

The morning after Dabi had quit The Bachelorette and had that horrible phone conversation, Misty had met him in his room (with room service breakfast, of course) to go over his options.

“I haven’t forwarded your request to production yet for Paradise because I need to make sure you know what you’re getting into,” she’d said.

“I already know,” said Dabi.

“Do you?” she retorted. “Dabi, you’re going to hate it in Paradise.”

“You don’t know that—”

“Correction, you’re going to loathe Paradise. Despise it. Are you sure you’ve got no other options?”

“None,” said Dabi. “It’s this, or I’m dead.”

Misty’s blue skin paled. “Seriously?”

“Potentially,” said Dabi. “I just need… a little more time. I have friends on the outside that’ll solve this, they just need to get the work done. If I can stay somewhere secure while they do that, then they’ll be able to pick me up at the end and it’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Misty whispered. “Okay. So, there are a few problems with that, the first being that Paradise doesn’t start filming for another month, and we don’t take charge of anyone in between.”

“Hawks already volunteered to host me,” said Dabi.

“He did? Oh, wow, that’s… convenient.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Dabi.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” said Misty. Dabi’s eyes narrowed and she moved on fast: “Anyway! First thing’s first. Paradise is on a beach. A beach with sand.”

“I’ll wear closed shoes.”

“Sand gets everywhere.”

“I’ll have clothes that cover me from it.”

“There’s no air conditioning.”

Dabi sucked in a breath through his teeth. “…I can deal. I’ve lived through summers without AC before.”

Misty looked skeptical but moved on: “The point of Bachelor In Paradise is for the stars and so-called villains of previous seasons in the main series—fan favorites, mostly—to come back on TV for another chance at love, but this time instead of a huge number of contestants pursuing one person, you’re looking for love with each other. You aren’t stuck with the same people every time, because new participants get pulled in and old ones are seeded out on a regular basis, so you’ll have to put in effort if you want to stick around. It’s… both more competitive than the main series, but also sort of less so? It’s also nowhere near as long as The Bachelorette. You were here in the mansion for nine weeks. Paradise is only three.”

“You get that many episodes out of three weeks?” said Dabi.

“It’s sort of… sectioned out,” said Misty. “The rose ceremonies—elimination or checkpoint nights, really—happen every three days, and that caps off every episode. We’re sharing a timeslot with another drama that has an odd number of episodes, so we’re staggering it out so one or two episodes will air per week. One of the reasons we have to be so fast about this is because all the participants tend to be social media influencers after having left the main series, so even when the rotating participants haven’t been announced, the audience tends to notice their change in activity online. We want to keep it as much of a surprise as possible. Something you should also know is that Bachelor Nation is pretty tightly knit, so it’s entirely possible that the other participants may have met each other in the past after leaving their main series. We’ve even had Paradise veterans return after their previous relationships didn’t work out. It’s a requirement that they need to all be single to participate, but some people may have history influencing their decisions that you won’t have. That might make it difficult for you in creating a lasting relationship.”

“I mean, it’s only for three weeks, right?” said Dabi.

“Three weeks is a lot of time for sh*t to hit the fan,” said Misty. “I have seen the equivalent of empires falling in the course of a single hour in Paradise.”

Oh yeah, Dabi was going to hate this. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his temple. “Okay, so, find a girl and woo her, and break up after the show’s over.”

“Or maybe fall in love,” Misty said skeptically. She had literally hired him to be a cynic. He raised a brow at her and she gave that line up fast. “Don’t hurt anyone. Don’t, like, lead anyone on, okay? These people really want to be in love. It’s highly encouraged to get engaged at the end—”

“After three weeks?”

“You’d be surprised how many permanent couples come out of this,” said Misty. “Even more than the main series, actually.”

“That still sounds incredibly stupid,” said Dabi.

“Final participants are also offered Fantasy Suites, but I’m guessing you’ll turn that down,” said Misty.

“Damn right I will,” said Dabi.

“If you do want sex at all during the show, that is allowed—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Seriously. I would rather die than have sex on TV,” said Dabi.

Misty rolled her eyes and carried on. “On the plus side, you do get paid for this.”

“How much?” said Dabi. It probably wouldn’t be much, but even a little dent in his lack of housing would be nice.

“Over a million yen,” said Misty.

Dabi straightened again, intrigued. “That much? For three weeks?”

“A very stressful three weeks, and you’re being hired as a celebrity,” she reminded him.

sh*t, right, he was a celebrity now. Supposedly.

She’d run down several other points that he’d paid far more attention to in the moment. The celebrity bit had been almost entirely forgotten. He’d happily ignored that title for several weeks, but that blissful ignorance was shattered by the attention at the Men Tell All meeting, and further fractured by the fact that he received fanmail.

Yes.

Yes, it had taken a while for that to sink in.

Fanmail.

It had become part of his routine at Hawks’ apartment. Every afternoon after the early news segment ended, he would relocate to the little kitchen island to review the mail. A lot of things Hawks tended to have sent to his agency, so anything work-related or junk was eliminated before ever reaching the apartment. The remainder he had dragged in to sort through at his leisure. Since the League bar was a smoking ruin Dabi had switched his address to the agency too, so the bag that ended up on the floor had a mix between the two of them. Dabi sorted through the envelopes one by one, sliding them into stacks based on what he could decipher on the outside.

Handwritten envelopes with neat writing went to the left.

Handwritten envelopes with crayon or messy writing went to the middle.

Printed envelopes, likely far less familiar or friendly, went off to the right.

Anything with Dabi’s name he stacked directly in front of himself. There was a lot more mail for him than he’d anticipated, from all sorts of places.

The first few he opened were from lawyers, eager to see if he wanted to sue Paragon Productions. Unfortunately Trumpet had been right—when Hawks’ agency lawyers looked over the Bachelorette contracts, all the pieces of that horrible last date had been covered by their signed waivers. It was a moral wrong, but not a legal one. Dabi had no interest in spending money he didn’t have for lawyer fees in hopes of judges ruling a gray area. Besides, Sato and seemingly two-thirds of the production company were very loud and very visible in their denouncement of that date. Sato had threatened to resign if anything like that happened again, which had sent Bachelor Nation into a tizzy, if the local news was to be believed. There wouldn’t be any repeats of that disaster.

A few others were from Hawks fangirls. They tended toward outrage that Dabi dared exist within fifty feet of Hawks’ perfection, and demanded that he back off before they doxxed him. As if they knew anything about who he was. How did these people think they could control Hawks or those he interacted with? What conceited assholes.

“Oops,” said Dabi, lighting the latest one on fire with his quirk. No one else was around to see this, but he snickered about it anyway.

A few others were sentimental. There were letters from people who’d been injured or had ‘ugly’ quirks, glad to have someone like them on a high profile show to promote acceptance; others gushed about him supposedly having a great voice (lies, surely); still others thought it was funny or sweet for him to be such good friends with Hawks, and a surprising number seemed to think “Team Hotwings” was an item. They had shippers. Dabi didn’t know if he should feel pleased (people could sincerely believe that he could date Hawks? They thought it was cute? They supported him?), or massively creeped out (they wanted to know if his dick was pierced. They wanted to know if touching Hawks’ wings made him horny. They wanted to know if Hawks had f*cked him while they were sharing a bedroom in week nine). He burned the invasive ones because holy sh*t he didn’t want anyone else to know those questions had ever existed. He cast a suspicious eye over Hawks’ mail, but there was no way to tell if similar letters lurked in the piles.

Dabi was sifting through his own pile, trying to determine what might be safe and what might be a mental landmine, when a specific one caught his eye.

The return address was U.A. High School.

Time seemed to freeze, and Dabi felt very cold.

There was no reason for U.A. to be reaching out to him. He could imagine the school angrily writing to Paragon Productions for idiotic use of the testing robots that U.A. also utilized, or for their conduct in a hero training facility—plenty of hero schools were pissed off about it—but this wasn’t official correspondence. It wasn’t on U.A. letterhead, and the handwritten address half-hidden under the forwarding stamp specifically marked it for Dabi’s attention. There was only one person at U.A. he could think of that might possibly reach out to him, but there was no way it could be true.

It had to be Eraserhead, he reasoned with himself, tearing the envelope open. Eraserhead couldn’t find his regular informants at the bar so had reached out to the one he could track down. That’s all it could be. There was no way, no way—

He unfolded the letter, and his heart almost stopped.

Touya,

I miss you.

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be.

It felt a little bit like the ground had dropped out from beneath him. Dabi stared at the paper and its four stupid words until he couldn’t even read them anymore; his hand was shaking too badly, and his eyes were stinging and blurring with the closest he came to tears these days.

It was Shouto.

Shouto knew.

No one was supposed to know.

In a burst of energy, he crumpled the paper into a ball. The cardstock resisted that kind of rough handling, but at this point Dabi didn’t care about tweaked staples and killer papercuts. He mashed it down and stormed toward the glass doors.

He wanted to set it on fire.

He wanted to pitch it off the balcony and watch it sail into the sun.

But.

I miss you.

He didn’t want to be recognized. He didn’t want to deal with Endeavor’s disappointment, or Rei’s anguish, or Fuyumi’s cajoling, or Natsuo’s exasperation at another night of lost sleep. He’d already ruined their lives once. He didn’t need to do it again. He didn’t need to get them killed.

I miss you.

Stupid little Shouto. Dabi had attacked him before he was even a month old. He shouldn’t miss anything. He shouldn’t remember Dabi at all.

I miss you.

Dabi didn’t make it to the balcony. He paced around the couch instead, crumpled letter pressed to his bowed head like a prayer, or a hook in his soul. He didn’t know if it was a pain or a balm.

The truth was, Dabi had always hoped he’d been missed. It was safer never to admit that, though. He’d spent thirteen years of his life with his happiness hinged on someone else’s affection, and all that had gotten him was a sh*t-ton of pain. He didn’t want to be that kid again, crying, Look at me. He was an adult. He was self-sufficient. He didn’t need anyone’s approval to live his life. He didn’t miss his family. (He missed them a lot). These days, on sleepless nights looking up at the ceiling and wondering what they thought, he would ask himself… why? Why would they miss him? He was a relative so society demanded some kind of mourning, but when it came down to how the Todoroki estate worked, his absence was a good thing. He’d never contributed anything. It was one less annoyance. One less thing wrong.

Was it an insult, to think that the one person who cared he was gone was the person he’d spent the least amount of time with?

Dabi didn’t want to think about this.

He dropped the balled-up letter and strode to the bathroom. He cranked on the shower and stood under the cold spray fully clothed. His body was ice-resistant but he shivered anyway. He didn’t come out again until Hawks returned.

“I’m back!” came a shout from the living room, accompanied by the swish of the balcony door moving in its track. “Dabi, are you in here? I brought food!”

His voice cut through the cold. Dabi turned off the shower again and called, “Welcome back.”

He took his time drying himself off and hanging up his soaking clothes. After changing into something dry he wandered back out. Hawks had brought fried chicken. He was popping open the bucket at the table and setting out sides but looked up when Dabi entered. He looked tired, and his visor was pushed up into his windswept hair, but he was smiling.

“We’ve got fans all over the place,” he said. “You want to know what the girl at the register said when I came to pick these up?”

Dabi suspected he already knew.

“Let me guess,” he said, dropping into his seat. “Do you want Hotwings with that?”

Hawks laughed and pointed at him with a chicken leg. “Exactly! You’ve even got the inflections down.”

“Fans are crazy. How do you deal with this sh*t?” asked Dabi.

“Sounds like someone was reading his fanmail today!” Hawks sat down too and took a big bite of fried chicken. His next few words were mumbled. “Or searching for yourself on social media, but I know you too well for that.”

“Social media is a plague on this world,” said Dabi.

“And yet so helpful when finding cat videos,” said Hawks. “So, did anything interesting come up in the mail today?”

Shouto’s crumpled letter seemed so very obvious in Dabi’s peripheral—peeking out from under the couch—but Hawks didn’t seem to have noticed it yet and hopefully it would stay that way. He tried to distract the hero with some of the sappier letters, because yeah they were sappy, but at least they were genuine and not embarrassing. Hawks was happy enough to go along with it, and when he’d finished his food he floated a stack of his own letters to the table to see if he had anything similar. The visual was ridiculous: Hawks absentmindedly wiping his hands on a napkin while a flurry of feathers tore open envelopes and held up letters for him to view.

“Ah, this one’s asking for a donation. And this one is a kid writing for school. And— Oh!”

Hawks brightened. He practically glowed.

“What are you looking at, the holy grail?” said Dabi.

“Better!”

Hawks took the paper in hand to show him. It was a child’s crayon drawing, featuring a large number of avant-garde stick figures grouped around massive pink teacups. Two figures towered over the others—one was clearly hawks, considering the wings, but the other, drawn in black, blue, and purple…

“Is that me?” Dabi leaned, incredulous, to get a better look.

“It is!” said Hawks. “See that little one with pigtails? That’s Usagi. She’s one of the kids who was on the amusem*nt park date! I guess she really had fun.”

That would explain the messy writing over the top: Next time let’s all bring our friends!

“These go on the fridge, right?” said Hawks, already standing up.

He hunted around the kitchen to find a magnet strong enough and stuck the drawing up on the fridge, directly at eye level. He stepped back again to take in the sight, chest puffed out and wings fluffing in pride. It added a lot more color and life to the room.

“I’m surprised you don’t have more of them up,” said Dabi. “I’d have figured you had more.”

“I hang them up at the agency,” said Hawks, eyes still on the picture. “We’ve got a whole hallway to frame and display them, so everyone can enjoy them. Besides, it’s not like I’m ever around here to—” He broke off with a choking noise and started rustling through a drawer for a distraction. “Nobody else can see them here, haha! Much better to share it.”

Dabi nodded slowly. “Have you ever had one of the little artists visit?”

Hawks looked up again with a grin. “We have. She was so excited. All my sidekicks asked for her autograph and her mom just about cried.”

Dabi’s heart did an obnoxious little squeeze and he tried very hard to ignore it.

He’d been living with his stupid crush for weeks on end, and it was better and yet worse than ever before. If he’d started this little domestic act wading through confusing feelings, he was now in up to his ears.

His first step into the apartment had been weird. It was too clean. Too bare. Too white. Really well furnished, for sure, but it looked like one of those magazine shoots where no one could possibly live in it for real without going crazy. He’d wondered if maybe Hawks had gotten a new apartment last minute to keep Dabi out of his real living space, but reality caught up with his thoughts pretty quickly. It was far more likely that, since Hawks still had free access here, it had been a secret purchase to escape the H.P.S.C., something out of their control and left on its own for the most part to keep them from drawing their attention. He felt pretty awful afterward for thinking badly about Hawks letting him into his one and only safe space. He kept reminding himself of that through the difficult beginning. He wasn’t used to luxury, but since escaping the doctor’s clutches and in the time before his first ‘death,’ he’d always lived in places very distinctly lived in, whether it meant seeing the drops of glittery purple paint Fuyumi spilled and no one had noticed to clean under the back garden step, or the League’s dirty plates.

The apartment hadn’t felt isolating for long, though.

Hawks had been way too attentive to Dabi’s suggestions. While making dinner one day he’d mentioned having seen a ladle shaped like the Loch Ness Monster, and the next day a Nessie ladle was delivered to the door. This happened with several more pots and pans, a lamp, house slippers, and a welcome mat. The growing number of knickknacks and Hawks’ near-constant presence in the off-work hours warmed the place up quickly, and Dabi found himself genuinely liking the place.

They fell into a routine: Hawks left for work at some godforsaken hour of the morning. Dabi would sleep in, and when he rose for the day he would go to the living room to crash on the couch, watching TV or browsing the internet until the League called (because they called almost every day), and sometimes in the middle of their conversation he’d wander into the kitchen to experiment. Since cooking was the main hobby he was partaking in he figured he may as well make dinner while he was at it, so when Hawks returned it was always with excitement and a landslide of compliments that Dabi tried to ignore for his own mental wellbeing. When dinner concluded they would sit on the couch to chat and watch some more TV or movies, sometimes play a game, until they tired enough to retreat to their rooms.

Dabi knew from the hundreds of crazy Hawks fans on the internet that living with a hero was believed to be something exciting. It wasn’t. He liked that, though. He’d had more than enough excitement in his life, and it was gratifying to know that Hawks was choosing to relax with him of all people.

It’s like we’ve skipped dating and gone straight to married life, he thought, and mentally berated himself.

“Is she an idiot?” said Hawks, blissfully unaware of Dabi’s anguish. They’d moved to the couch for the night and the TV had somehow been tuned to a romantic drama. “Just— Just ask him. It’s so obviously a misunderstanding, it would be cleared up in thirty seconds if she just asked where he went that afternoon—”

“And deprive the show of another six episodes of drama? God forbid,” Dabi drawled.

“But it’s so obvious…”

Dabi didn’t want to think about obviousness in romance. He was sure that once Hawks paid an iota of attention to that aspect his crush would be found out immediately. And why wouldn’t it? Hawks’ couch was odd in that the back was low, the frame tilted and curved so really it felt like they were sprawling in an oblong white nest; the size meant that even if they were leaning on opposite ends their feet were caught up in the middle, so it was impossible to escape. Even when Dabi had tried to curl up in the beginning gravity would eventually pull him back down. There was no escaping anyone on this couch. So he just laid there, mentally screaming about how they were touching and wouldn’t it be nice if we were touching a little more?

Dabi’s pathetic yearning was thankfully interrupted by a text. He dug the phone out of his pocket and squinted at the bright screen.

Shiggy ate sh*t on the tour, lmao, Toga had texted, alongside a picture of herself flashing a peace sign outside Nagoya Castle.

Did he say it was Compress tripping him again, Dabi replied.

Yeah! Joke’s on him, Compress was at the other end of the room, said Toga. How’s Hawks?

Dabi glanced up. Hawks was enraptured by the TV, a little furrow in his brow. He’d propped his head on his arm so his cheek was squished a little, and his hair was rumpled. Even in the flickering light of the TV he looked unfairly handsome.

He’s Hawks, Dabi replied noncommittally.

You’re crushing so hard on him it makes you look stupid, said Toga. How could she know that when she wasn’t even in the same prefecture?

f*ck you, said Dabi.

That’s not a denial ♥

Cut the crap. I know you didn’t text me about Shigaraki being stupid.

But I thought you liked hearing about Shigaraki being stupid.

What do you want, Toga?

She didn’t reply for a while. Dabi turned his attention back to the TV.

“No, Daisuke, I can’t be with you anymore!” the female lead was saying, way too high pitched and way too dramatically.

“But I love you!” said the male lead, equally overacted.

The female lead threw a hand over her eyes. “That’s not enough! Not after what you’ve done!”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?”

“You know!” she cried, and ran away sobbing.

“He doesn’t know! Just tell him what’s bothering you!” Hawks whined.

“I’ve got to say, this show was a sh*tty pick,” said Dabi.

Hawks buffeted him with a wing without looking. “One of my sidekicks said it was essential to watch! I need something to talk about in the break room now that I’m actually taking breaks!”

“Your sidekick has sh*t taste,” said Dabi.

“I’m sure this has some redeeming quality,” said Hawks.

“It’s over,” the female lead was crying to her best friend.

“Maybe you should go back to your emotionally abusive ex?” said the best friend.

“Somewhere it has a redeeming quality,” Hawks insisted, looking pained.

Dabi’s phone vibrated and he looked back down.

Soooooo I got some new Twitter followers, said Toga.

You told me you got a sh*t-ton of followers for talking sh*t about me. What’s new about that? said Dabi.

Okay but there’s a special one, said Toga. Her classmate is following me and I guess he’s super introverted so the rest of their class is following me now to support him. Why anyone would consider following a maniac like Toga online would be any form of support Dabi had no idea but he didn’t get long to think about it before the next message was coming through. She started talking to me directly and she’s super cool! Dabi I’m in love! Her name’s Ochako! She’s the cutest! I want to hug her tight and make her bleed!

Dabi suddenly had a headache. He did not need a repeat of the near-stabbing incident with her last crush. Why are you telling me this? Don’t you usually gossip about this sh*t with Magne?

Big Sis is on a grocery run and Shiggy’s being dumb. But you’re in love so I know you’d understand! Dabi do you know what this means?

It means you’re f*cked, Dabi replied. When Toga sent back a series of question marks, he followed it up with a gif of the chest-ripping scene from Alien.

Boo, said Toga. It means when everything’s over we can both bring our lovers to family dinner!

You’re 17, the word ‘lover’ should not apply to you anytime soon.

You’re just jealous that I have my act together while you’re still pining. I bet you’re all cozy next to Hawks right now and pretending he doesn’t notice your big fat crush.

Dabi’s face heated up and he deliberately did not look at Hawks. I don’t have a crush. You’re delusional.

You could just tell him you know, said Toga. I bet he’d be super happy. He’d totally kiss you. His crush is even bigger than yours.

Inconceivable. Dabi wasn’t even going to dignify that with a denial.

f*ck off and text your crush if you want to be mushy, he said.

I already am. She thinks you two are funny.

GOODBYE, Dabi texted back, jabbing the touchscreen with vehemence.

Lol, goodnight, said Toga.

“I genuinely do not understand why they can’t just hold a conversation,” said Hawks.

Dabi gave a guilty start. “What?”

“The characters,” said Hawks. “It’s dumb enough that she thinks he’d cheat on her in the first place, but if she investigated for even a minute the lie would all fall apart. It’s ridiculous.”

“You do realize that these dramas rely on a lack of common sense, the Bachelor series included?” said Dabi.

“Okay, but not all of them are this obvious about it,” said Hawks.

“I’ll never love again!” the female lead cried, and at long last the credits started rolling.

Next episode starts in four seconds, read the button at the bottom of the screen, but Hawks groaned and turned off the TV.

“I can’t do it,” he said. “I’ll have to apologize to my sidekick but I can’t take any more of that. I need to find something else. Do you have any recommendations?”

“I’ve been watching Nailed It,” said Dabi. “Everyone sucks, but that’s the entire point.”

Hawks looked vaguely hopeful, but mostly tired. “Do you want to watch that one tomorrow? It’s a little late to start it now.”

“Sure,” said Dabi. “It doesn’t have a plot, so there’s nothing to miss when Paradise starts up either.”

“That’s only a few days away now, isn’t it?” said Hawks, propping himself up. “Two days before we leave. It hardly seems real at this point. How’s your packing going?”

“I only came here with the two bags. It’s not hard to get it all back in,” said Dabi.

“But we got you more summery things. Surely you can’t fit all your Bachelorette clothing alongside the new ones, and there’s no need for it either. I mean, really, no one’s going to be wearing suits on the beach,” said Hawks.

“Well, where else am I going to put that crap?”

“Here?” said Hawks, like it was obvious. “You could come back for them. Or I could drop them off for you later. Really, it’s not any trouble.”

“I—” Dabi hesitated. “Yeah. If it’s not a bother.”

“Great! I’m still getting all of my clothes around,” said Hawks. “I should probably do some packing tonight, otherwise it’ll all be rushed at the end and I’ll forget something.”

He didn’t move, though.

“You’re packing very fast, I see,” said Dabi.

“So fast,” Hawks grumbled. He peeled himself off the couch. It looked like it took great effort. “Ugh. I’m heading to my room for the night, then.”

“Don’t forget to wave goodnight to our babysitters,” said Dabi.

Hawks trudged to the balcony and waved through the glass at the opposite building. That was one of the more common haunts for their security team. When Dabi had first noticed them he’d been on edge—had Overhaul or Ujiko sent people after him?—but Hawks had glanced out and said, “Oh, I know that guy!” He would then rattle off the names of the ones he could spot, and Dabi realized these must be part of the anti-Commission coup here to protect Hawks himself. And they were nothing to sneeze at. Dabi had looked up the names and found that these were a crack team of stealth and underground heroes who were very, very good at their jobs. This apartment was probably the safest place in all of Japan right now.

“And they’re waving back. Last task done for today. Have a good night,” said Hawks, shuffling off toward the bedrooms.

“Goodnight,” Dabi replied.

He flipped the starry blanket off and stretched. When his arms flopped back down, his fingers brushed against something and he was startled to realize Shouto’s letter was still on the floor. He picked it up. Crushed it even further in his fist… or, tried. It was pretty sturdy paper. Whatever the case, he wasn’t going to leave it in a place Hawks might snoop later, and he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out. He took it with him instead.

The bedrooms were split off of the same small hallway, not directly across from each other but still close enough that he could hear Hawks moving around even as he shut the door. Dabi looked around at the guest room. It was small, but it was clean and it was comfortable. The nicest place he’d stayed in a very long time. He’d felt downright mournful when he’d started packing, knowing that this little bubble of peace was ending. His bags sat open at the foot of the bed; he dropped the crumpled letter into one of them and kicked the lid down to hide the evidence. The other bag, though… He studied it for a while, then started unloading. Out came the suits, the waistcoats, the dark clothing that had made him look like a bartender throughout his run on The Bachelorette. He hung them back in the closet, stood back, and stared.

I’m coming back here, he thought.

And what a wonderful and terrible thought that was.

The first time Natsuo visited his mother in the hospital, he’d been sixteen years old.

He hadn’t been allowed to visit, at first.

Endeavor had said no.

“The doctors don’t think she’s ready,” Fuyumi had fretted, after Endeavor had turned his back on the dinner table and Natsuo glared hatefully at the closing door. “It’s not that they’re keeping us away from her, it’s just that she might get overwhelmed—”

Natsuo didn’t care.

Rei had been alone in the hospital for years at that point, and he hated it. She’d been through so much already. She shouldn’t be alone. Touya had died from lack of support, and he wouldn’t let Rei face the same end if he had any way to change it. He kept arguing and being a general nuisance until Endeavor finally relented.

When he finally got to the hospital, it was with victory swelling in his chest. He was impatient to get out of the car. Impatient to sign in. Impatient while sitting through a doctor’s lecture about triggers and removing himself if the situation got too overwhelming. He was annoyed when the doctor followed him into Rei’s hospital room. All he wanted to do was see his mom. To hug her. To tell her how much he missed her. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently it was.

Natsuo’s visit didn’t go the way he anticipated.

He sat in an uncomfortable chair in a clinically white room, while Rei sat in an equally horrible chair at a distance from him. She’d angled her seat enough so that she wasn’t really looking at him, just stealing glances out the corner of her eye. She didn’t reply to anything he said. He’d thought at first that she was wary of the doctor, but that was proved wrong when the doctor stood up to get her a glass of water from the faucet and her fearful attention stayed riveted on Natsuo. She was scared of him.

All the victory and the happiness he’d felt crumbled. He fixed his gaze on the leg of her chair, not quite on the floor but not at her either, and kept up a steady, monotonous stream of words. He talked about the volleyball moves his team were practicing. Fuyumi’s favorite TV show. Anything that crossed his mind. When his allotted time was up, he said goodbye and left. Rei hadn’t said anything and neither of them had tried to cross that physical distance. Natsuo rolled up the privacy glass on the car ride home, curled up in his seat, and cried.

He hated that awful white room.

He hated Endeavor even more for putting Rei there.

But Natsuo was stubborn. Even if it hurt, he kept going back and blabbering about the stupidest, most inconsequential things. For a while he thought he may as well be talking to a brick wall, but months later, during a lull where he’d been trying to think of a new topic, Rei quietly asked whether his team had improved on their float serves.

She had been listening.

Natsuo’s hope returned.

In the here and now Natsuo still hated his mother’s hospital room, but he was glad to say that Rei herself was nothing like the shell he’d first encountered there. She seemed bright, now. Happy. He hadn’t realized how constantly exhausted she’d been in his childhood until he compared those memories to the woman who laughed now at his despair over vending machine options near campus. The separation from the family had been good for her. It was depressing, but… yeah. The hospital had helped.

The hospital was also involved in his current visit, more than it had been for years.

“Your mother is experiencing something of a breakthrough,” the doctor had said over the phone last week. “She wants to speak with you and your siblings all at once to address it.”

Whatever roadblock to recovery this was, the doctor seemed proud that she was willing to tackle it, and Natsuo was proud that she trusted his help with it.

Of course, that meant seeing Fuyumi again.

They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms last time, and their correspondence had been stilted ever since.

Natsuo felt a little like a thief as he sulked through the hospital hallways and peered around corners. It must’ve looked pretty stupid, too, because when Shouto caught up, he blinked vacantly at him and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Checking for Yumi,” said Natsuo, craning his head around another corner. The coast was clear. Good. He could scurry to the next hallway.

Shouto followed far more sedately. “You won’t see her out here. She came here early, so she’s already with Mom.”

Natsuo straightened, feeling even more stupid. “Oh, well, I guess that makes sense…”

Mercifully, Shouto didn’t judge. He fell into step beside Natsuo instead and asked, “Do you know what it is that Mom wants to talk about?”

“Not a clue,” said Natsuo. “She seemed sort of introspective the last time I came, but otherwise there wasn’t anything unusual. Nothing I noticed, anyway. Have you got any ideas?”

“I think it has to do with Endeavor,” said Shouto.

Natsuo winced. “That makes sense. With her being discharged soon, she’ll need to figure out how to deal with him. He hasn’t changed his mind on getting her that separate house, has he?”

“Not to my knowledge,” said Shouto. “Fuyumi would know better than I would, though.”

He better not have changed his mind.

As part of his ‘atonement,’ Endeavor had told them he’d build another house for the rest of the family and never darken its doorstep, so Rei would never have to interact with him again. It was really the least he could do after being such a sh*tty husband.

“Mom knows about the new house too, right?”

“Yes. Fuyumi has already started helping her arrange for furniture.”

“And Fuyumi’s not pressuring her to let the bastard visit, right?” checked Natsuo.

“She’s troubled about it, but I don’t think she’s saying anything. I think she decided it was better for Mom to come to her own decision,” said Shouto.

As far as Natsuo was concerned that decision should be a firm and emphatic no, but the presence of the rindou flowers on Rei’s windowsill made that complicated. Rei knew they were from Endeavor and kept accepting them. She looked at them like she was happy about them sometimes, and yeah, that was her favorite flower, but if Natsuo were in her position the flower would’ve been ruined for him forever. She seemed downright lenient on Endeavor these days.

Natsuo hoped really badly that she wasn’t asking her children’s permission to reconcile with her husband.

It would be much better if she were announcing a divorce.

When they pulled open the door to Rei’s room, they found it much livelier than usual. Rei had started painting and couldn’t seem to stop. Canvases of all sizes were scattered on the tables and propped against the wall and easel, colorful and vivid enough to breathe life into the room. Rei and Fuyumi were hunched over one of the new ones, giggling over how it looked more or less accurate to the household gardens back when Fuyumi was small. They looked up at the sound of the door. Rei smiled soft and easily. Fuyumi also smiled, but hers was pinched.

“There you are,” said Rei. “It’s so good to see you all together like this.”

“Hi, Mom,” said Shouto, and wrapped her up in a hug.

Rei chuckled and squeezed him back. “Was the train all right? Natsuo, I know it’s further for you…”

“It’s fine,” said Natsuo. “I was texting with Yukina the whole time, so I barely noticed how long it was.”

“That’s good.” Rei pulled away, and her expression became a little worried. “Would you all like to sit down?”

Normally even with all of them visiting, they’d scatter to the various corners: sit on the bed, perch on the one available stool, or lean against the wall or counter. Today three more chairs had been brought in, so they all sat in a loose circle to look at each other. It felt sort of foreboding to be rounded up like this. Rei sat on her stool with one of the smaller paintings balanced on her knees. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to gather herself.

“Thank you for coming today. I’ve asked to speak with you all at once about something… something sad.” Her gaze landed on Shouto, and she smiled. “A few weeks ago, I had a chat with Shouto about our family. It was something that I hadn’t really come to terms with, even after all the time I’ve been here. I’m settling into it now, understanding and trying to forgive, and my doctors have been thrilled with my progress on it. I think that one of the reasons it was so difficult for me to accept was because I was alone and blaming myself for everything that happened. The simple fact is that we are not the same people. We don’t think the same ways, and even when we go through the same hardships, our understandings are different. I’ve had the opportunity to speak with a professional about my experiences, to help me work through them. But I don’t think any of you have had the opportunity to do so yourselves. So, I want to talk about this together with you.” She turned the canvas around so they could see the portrait: Touya, laughing in a field of flowers. “I want to talk about Touya.”

Oh, sh*t.

Natsuo determinedly did not look at Fuyumi.

“I think,” Rei said gently, “that we are all still hurting after losing him. And I think that for many personal reasons, we’ve chosen not to talk about him. I’m ashamed to admit that I’m likely one of your roadblocks.”

“No,” said Fuyumi, aghast, “Mom, don’t talk about yourself like that!”

Rei reached out a hand and twined her fingers through Fuyumi’s.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “Fuyumi, you’re a very strong young woman. You have such a big heart. I know there are things you don’t say, because you don’t want to hurt me. I’m so incredibly lucky that I have a daughter who loves me so much, but I don’t want that love to hurt you. Your thoughts and your hurts matter, too.”

Fuyumi’s mouth opened and closed a few times before pressing tightly shut, and she blinked furiously down at their joined hands.

“I’d like us all to be able to talk about him right now, to break the ice so we’re able to communicate more freely with each other,” said Rei. “I don’t want any of you to feel pressured to keep all your love and frustrations locked up inside, because even the purest intentions can fester into resentment. That’s a mistake that I made again and again, with you, with your father, and myself. I don’t want you to hurt like I did. I want us all to be able to properly support each other. I won’t force you to do this, but I’d hoped… maybe we could talk. Just one of us at a time, so no one can interrupt and we can get everything out.”

“We’ll have the good hurt,” Shouto said with a nod, like this was as easy as talking about the grass outside. “The one that makes you feel like you’re not alone.”

This was clearly some kind of reference, because Rei smiled and said, “Exactly.”

Shouto nodded to himself, then pulled a slim poetry book out of his bag and handed it to Natsuo. “Here. This will help.”

“Okay?” Natsuo took it and opened to the bookmarked page. He scanned the poem and his brow raised. “Holy sh*t. Uh—” He faltered; didn’t Rei have a copy of this book, too? He didn’t want to offend anyone. “It’s, uh, really nice, but it’s also… depressing. Are all the poems like that?”

“A lot of them are,” said Shouto.

“They helped me make sense of what I was feeling,” said Rei. “Maybe catharsis through the arts will appeal to you too. Maybe it won’t. But would you like to start opening ourselves up about this together?”

“Well… if you and Shouto have both agreed, I’ll do it too,” said Fuyumi.

Natsuo wasn’t particularly thrilled, but he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I came to help, so if this helps, I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful,” said Rei.

Silence settled around them. Just because they’d agreed to talk didn’t mean any of them were ready to crack open their particular traumas. Rei waited almost a full minute in case they changed their mind, then took it on herself to get the ball rolling. Her eyes turned to Natsuo and he tried hard not to freeze up.

“Natsuo, would you like to go first?” she asked. “You were the first to bring this topic up in the past. I’m sorry that your worries were stifled back then. Are you ready to speak about them now?”

“How about let’s not go with me,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone. “Everyone always gets angry when I try to talk about it.”

“Natsu, that isn’t fair,” Fuyumi sighed.

“Fairness doesn’t have any place in this. It’s the truth,” said Natsuo. Fuyumi’s eyes narrowed and her mouth opened to argue, but he gestured at her and said, “Look, it’s already happening!”

“Alright, we’re going to establish a rule,” said Rei, cutting off whatever Fuyumi was going to say. “Only one of us can talk at a time. Whoever holds this portrait is the one who can speak. If we have anything to say in response, we have to wait until they’re through with their thoughts.” She looked at each of them, letting them soak in her gentle smile and gradually relax. “The rest of their thought may give us an understanding we might not otherwise have been able to reach. They might answer the questions we’d come up with. But we need to give each other that chance. Do we all agree?”

They all nodded, mute and ashamed. Rei held out the portrait and met Natsuo’s eyes.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to express your pain,” she said. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to support you back then, but I want to do it now.”

Natsuo accepted the painting with a feeling of dread. This version of Touya was a very rare glimpse of him; the older he’d gotten the less he smiled. Natsuo felt an irrational stab of hate for this inaccuracy but kept it down as best he could.

“Touya was abused,” he said bluntly. “When he wasn’t being neglected he was being talked down to or made to feel ashamed or scared of himself. He never deserved that. And he never got an apology.”

He guiltily glanced at Rei. It had been harsh, but it was true and he’d wanted to get that out before he was inevitably shut down again; would she feel attacked? No. She met his gaze and nodded slowly, as if to say, Go on. Natsuo’s eyes dropped back to the painting again, unwilling to look at the others quite yet.

“It was unfair,” he whispered. “He was so young. There were so many times it could’ve been averted if someone had just paid attention. It was so easy. It kills me how easy it would’ve been to change it. My overwhelming memory is him coming to my room at night, burned and crying and almost out of his mind with guilt because he decided he was the common denominator in everything wrong with our family. He’d tell me his plans on how to make things better, or he’d cry about how everyone else hated him and he didn’t know what to do. He said once that if he was gone we’d all be happy again. It scared me already back then, and as a kid, losing him was an abstract concept. The older I get, the more I realize how f*cked up it is. He wasn’t even a teenager yet and he was borderline suicidal. But I think the most f*cked up part of it is that the only person he hated was himself. No matter how much he thought other people hated him, he still cared about them. Endeavor— He hurt you, Mom. He was always screaming and hitting you, or ‘training’ Shouto, and when it came to Touya he was either ignoring him or yelling at him to give up. There wasn’t any in between. But Touya still wanted him to care and went to all those horrible lengths hoping Endeavor would just look at him for once. Why couldn’t he recognize that Endeavor was the problem, not himself? Nothing was wrong with Touya that a little time and understanding couldn’t have fixed. Everything about it makes me so mad. It’s like every choice made went wrong, and I hate it all even more because none of us ever showed remorse about the way he was hurting. It’s always about how he died, and not any of the pain he was going through for all the years before it. And why should we? If we acknowledge what was hurting him, we have to acknowledge that we were causing it in the first place. Because yeah, I’ll admit, I was part of it, too! I was young and dumb and didn’t understand it all, so I made mistakes. But I tried my best to listen and change, and it didn’t feel like anyone else was interested in doing that. What was it, some kind of f*cked up sunk cost fallacy? We made mistakes like ostracizing him once and then felt so guilty about that bad choice that we didn’t want to own up to our own mistakes enough to fix it? I hated that no one else tried! That no one apologized. I hate that he was ever put in that position of feeling hated and unwanted. And most of all I hate Endeavor for causing it all in the first place. Touya was never the problem.”

It felt like there was a lot more to say—years and years of built-up hate—but Natsuo struggled to word it further. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rei’s hand reaching out, palm up. Wordlessly, he passed the portrait back over.

“Thank you, Natsuo,” she said gently. “You’re right. Touya wasn’t a problem. It was all about how we handled his diagnosis, and we went about it badly. I failed him as a mother. I failed all of you, but I think him most of all.”

Natsuo winced. Yeah, Rei had definitely failed, but she at least had good reason to buckle under pressure.

“Don’t be ashamed to admit it,” said Rei, and he looked up to meet her gaze again. She smiled encouragingly. “It’s the truth. I failed. I won’t do his memory the disservice of denying it. I wish with all my heart now that I could go back and change it. I never realized how badly he was hurting, because I was selfishly paying attention to other things—”

Natsuo shook his head. It had not been selfish of her to step between a four-year-old Shouto and Endeavor’s fists.

“I had tunnel vision,” said Rei. “I focused on the one child whose needs were most obvious and physical, and selfishly hoped that the more complex and invisible problems that my other children faced would stop existing if I didn’t think about them. Touya didn’t deserve that, and neither did any of you. I’m so sorry for that. There’s nothing I can do to ever make up for your childhood. Natsuo, it must’ve been so much pressure to feel like you were Touya’s only support. You were so close. I think you may have felt like he was your only support, too. It must have been terrible for you when he died, not only because you loved him so much, but because all the stability you knew disappeared with him and none of us understood the depth of your loss.”

Natsuo nodded once, had to blink back some tears, and kept nodding. She’d hit the nail on the head.

“It makes sense why you’re so protective of his memory. If Touya was your safety and security, then what hurt him was personal for you, too. But I need you to know something, Natsuo. What happened to him was not your fault.”

Natsuo couldn’t really deal with that. He pressed a hand over his eyes, torn between relief and guilt. Rei leaned to rub his back.

“I know that you tried to help him. You were a little boy and it wasn’t your responsibility, but you tried. Even when the rest of us didn’t pay the attention we should have, we knew that Touya appreciated it. Please never blame yourself for something that gave him peace. If anyone is at fault, it’s us: the parents. Our entire purpose is to love and protect our children, and your father and I failed. By some miracle you and your siblings became wonderful, kind people despite our failings and I’m proud of all that you’ve done.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. I love you, Natsuo.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Her hand went to his head instead, brushing the fringe away from his face. He lowered his hand and tried to give her an encouraging smile.

“Thank you for telling us your feelings,” she said. “I can understand you a little better now, and that’s all I want.”

“Can—” Fuyumi twiddled her thumbs, then clenched her hands together. “Can I go next, please? Only if you’re done, of course. I don’t want to cut you off, Natsuo.”

“No, I, uh, think it would be good to move on to someone else right now. That was sort of… Um…”

“Freeing?” Shouto guessed.

“Tiring,” Natsuo admitted.

“A lot of emotions in a few words,” Rei said knowingly. “Remember, this isn’t the only time you can talk about it. If you want to bring this up in the future, you can. I’m going to be here for you this time.”

“I’ll remember that,” said Natsuo.

Rei nodded and gave the picture to Fuyumi. Fuyumi gripped it tight, took a deep breath to ground herself, and looked directly at Natsuo.

Oh, here it comes, he thought, despairing.

“Natsuo,” she said, “the last time we talked… things were said. I don’t think there’s any benefit to repeating them, but I want you to understand why I reacted the way I did. After hearing you just now... Well. I think I understand where you were coming from a little better, too.” She took another deep breath. “In my perspective, what Touya wanted most was to be recognized for himself. It’s why he begged Dad to keep training, why he was so resentful about being overshadowed, and why… why he left me behind. When I worried and tattled about his injuries, I was stopping him from proving himself. He thought pain was worth it, to be seen. He didn’t just want to be our big brother or have some placeholder title, he wanted to be meaningful. He didn’t realize that being my brother was special enough to me. Or maybe I wasn’t special enough myself for him to care.”

What the f*ck? Of course she’d been special to Touya! Natsuo opened his mouth to argue, but Rei set a hand on his arm and shook her head: it’s not your turn. But Fuyumi had noticed. She gave a sad smile.

“I’m not saying this to feel sorry for myself. I’ve never been special. I’ve known it my whole life, and I’m at peace with that. I’m just telling you this to make the situation around Touya make more sense. At the end he didn’t like me at all. Natsuo, you were the only person he trusted. The only person who he thought recognized him. I was jealous back then but I could understand that he felt safe and comfortable around you when he wouldn’t relax with anyone else, and I could bear it because I knew you were supporting each other and you both deserved support. You were like Touya’s last defender, and… it hurts, now. The few times Touya comes up between us, you’re always angry. I’m proud that you still love him enough to try protecting him so long after he’s died, and I’m sure if he could see you he would appreciate it too, but when you talk… It’s never about him. You’re angry about what was inflicted on him and the way he suffered. And that’s important. But that’s all that’s ever said. It’s never about what he thought, or how he felt, or what he did outside of suffering. It’s like he’s been reduced to a martyr. I’m afraid of that being all that’s left for us. I’m terrified of the person he trusted most leaving so much of him behind and not recognizing him wholly the way he wanted so badly when he was alive.” She rubbed at her eyes, blinking back tears again. “I know that’s a lot to ask of you. It’s selfish of me to expect so much. Mom is right, we both process things differently and I’m not conceited enough to say I understand every piece of how your mind works. But the fact that recognition is the only thing Touya asked for makes forgetting or ignoring parts of him hurt like nothing else. I’m sorry for lashing out, back then. I know you’re not meaning to hurt or forget him. It’s just… hard for me to carry that memory right now.”

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly all of their arguments fell into place in his head, and Natsuo felt like the world’s cruelest idiot. He had to swallow a lump in his throat. He reached out his hands. Fuyumi held out the painting. He took hold of it, but before she could let go, he said firmly, “You are special, Fuyumi.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say that,” she said, head bowed. “If anything, not being special is a relief in this world. Really more relaxing. I’m sorry if I made you think—”

“I’m sorry,” said Natsuo. “Fuyumi, you’re my sister. And you’re my only sister, but you’re the best sister I could possibly ask for. You’re kind and you’re patient and you worked so hard to take care of us without letting us feel guilty about it that I forget sometimes how much falls on you. I’m sorry that you felt alone when we were kids. And I’m sorry that I didn’t notice your feelings now. I never thought that way, about… not recognizing his memory. And now that I do… yeah. That’s painful. If I were in your place I’d have been losing my temper a lot faster. I’m sorry about that, too. My temper. I never meant to hurt you with it. I just got frustrated that no one seemed to listen, and didn’t realize you were listening the whole time. Sorry for being such an idiot about it.”

She huffed out a laugh, smile watery. “You’re not an idiot. But thank you, Natsu. I… It means a lot.”

Shouto reached out a hand, glancing between them. Natsuo and Fuyumi offered the painting. Instead of taking it Shouto rested his fingers on the edge and said, “I think we should all recognize that we are idiots. My classmates say it’s a Todoroki gene, so it’s inescapable. It’s best to accept it right now.”

Natsuo cackled and Fuyumi put a hand to her mouth to stifle a snort. Even Rei bit back a smile.

Shouto nodded to himself and settled his hands on his lap again. “That’s all I had to say. Thank you.”

“Very eloquent, Sho,” said Natsuo.

Shouto wrinkled his nose. “Sho? Is that nickname really going to stick?”

“It is,” said Natsuo.

Shouto pondered this a while before apparently making peace with it. “It’s better than Babyroki.”

“Who calls you Babyroki— You know what? Never mind. I don’t need to know.” Natsuo shook his head and turned back to Fuyumi. “Fuyumi, there’s one thing I want to ask. It’s something I never understood. I thought… stupidly, I guess, that maybe it was just you ignoring the situation, but it’s pretty clear you’re not ignoring it at all, so maybe you can make it make sense. You cared about Touya and how he felt abandoned. You still do. So how can you stand Endeavor?”

The mirth left her face immediately. Slowly she took back the painting and balanced it on her knees. “It’s hard to put into words.”

“Take all the time you need,” said Rei. “We’re here to listen.”

For a woman about to discuss her abusive husband she looked remarkably at ease.

Fuyumi was quiet for a long while. She picked at the loose canvas on the back of the painting, and finally said, “I’ve always tried to take a step back from situations, to try figuring out the cause so I can understand what’s going on around me. It’s very helpful with students and workplace drama. But I did it as a child, too. And I think Dad and Touya were very similar. The actions Dad took were wrong, but they felt to me like a byproduct of him trying to help. The bad things only started after Touya’s diagnosis. Dad wasn’t angry at Touya for it. We’d have known if he was. I think the problem was that Dad was very young and out of his depth, with no other family to ask for advice. He was younger than me, you know, when Touya was born. His parents had died when he was in high school, and Mom’s family…”

They all not-so-subtly glanced at Rei, who nodded slowly. It was no secret that the Himuras were sh*tty people. Not only had they sold Rei into a quirk marriage, every time she’d tried to contact them for advice or help they’d either berated her or gaslit her. It was one of the reasons Rei had spiraled so badly. If Endeavor had ever called them and had them instruct him to literally knock some sense into his wife… it really wouldn’t be out of character.

“I think Dad was scared,” said Fuyumi. “He did love Touya. He loved Touya so much. He loved him enough to try distancing himself, because he thought that he and everything he knew was a danger to Touya. But then everything started to go wrong, and he tried to get control again, except it only got worse and he got more frantic the more it went on. I don’t think he even cared about his own ambition at that point. I think he realized he made a mistake to give Touya the goal of heroics so young, and he couldn’t get it out of Touya’s head, so he thought having someone else in the family reach that pedestal of Number One would take that burden off of Touya’s shoulders. It backfired, though. And after Touya died… I think he felt someone still had to reach that ranking or he’d be dishonoring Touya’s memory. And— I see the way you’re looking at me, Natsuo. I know you’re thinking that this is all very pretty reasoning to explain some terrible things, and you don’t think good intentions excuse what he did.”

Damn straight. Natsuo was trying to control his grimace, though.

“Do you remember that night when Shouto was brought home from the hospital?” said Fuyumi. “That night when Touya tried to attack him?”

Natsuo had been small enough that the memory was fractured, barely there, but what remained still made him shudder.

Touya’s voice had been shrill. He’d been dirty from Sekoto Hill and blubbering something while Endeavor tried to reason with him. But then his expression had changed. In an instant he’d gone from desperate to feral. And then he was lunging, and there was fire, and screaming, and Fuyumi had pushed Natsuo out of the way… And the next thing he remembered Endeavor had Touya pinned to the floor, and his brother was crying. He cried, and cried, and cried.

“Do you remember that face Touya made? That look in his eyes?” said Fuyumi.

It had been anguished. It had been vicious.

“He wanted to hurt Shouto, that night,” said Fuyumi. “He wanted it with every fiber of his being. I’ve had nightmares about it. About what would’ve happened if Dad didn’t move fast enough. But I understand the difficulties Touya was going through, and I still love him.” She met Natsuo’s gaze unflinchingly. “If I can forgive and love the brother who specifically wanted to hurt Shouto, why can’t I forgive and love the father who recognizes and regrets the mistakes he's made?”

Those… were not the same thing, though! That was a grown ass man versus an eight-year-old child! Natsuo was younger now than Endeavor had been when Touya was born, and he would rather throw himself off the Tokyo Skytree than even consider raising his hand against Yukina or any potential children. He scrubbed his hands through his hair to try venting his frustration, dragged them down his face, and forced out, “I respect your choice but I do not agree with it.”

“So long as it’s understood and respected, that’s what matters,” said Rei, then faltered. “Oh, dear, I didn’t have the picture…”

“No, Mom, it’s no trouble. Did you want it next?” said Fuyumi.

“Not yet. I’ve had years of talking about my pain with the doctors, so I want you three to have the chance to talk first right now,” said Rei.

“Then… Shouto?” said Fuyumi. “I know you never really interacted with Touya, but I’m sure what happened to him affected you emotionally too. Your experience is just as valid as any of ours.”

“Alright. I can talk,” said Shouto.

So she handed the painting over to him. He turned it right-side up and pondered it for a moment before saying, “Touya apologized for that. For trying to hurt me as a baby.”

He had. Natsuo could remember it well, how Touya had rambled at night about how he regretted targeting Shouto at all. But Natsuo was the only one who’d listened; no one else would’ve believed him, let alone passed it on to Shouto.

“How did you know that?” asked Natsuo.

“He said it himself,” said Shouto. “He visited me at night.”

For a few seconds there was silence, then everyone freaked.

“He what?” cried Fuyumi.

“He came out of the ceiling,” said Shouto, scratching his nose and completely unconcerned with everyone else’s surprise. “The first time I think he was trying to find a way through the attic to get past Mom and Endeavor’s room, so he could get out to Sekoto Hill. Except, when Endeavor had me separated from everyone, he put me in the other room with an attic access point. Touya found me instead. I’d been burned that day in training. When he opened up the hatch he saw I was trying to treat it wrong, and he got mad about it. He tried coaching me through it from the ceiling, but I didn’t want to be alone, so I kept purposely doing it wrong until he got annoyed enough to come down.”

Natsuo choked out a laugh. He thought about it a little more, then began to laugh for real. “That definitely sounds like Touya! He helped you with your burns?”

“He did,” said Shouto. “He only visited twice, though. When Endeavor was in bad moods, and when Mom was—”

He broke off and sent her a guilty look.

Rei smiled sadly. “There were times I wasn’t there for you. I had… dark days, sometimes. I’m sorry I couldn’t support you properly. But if Touya was there… if he was kind… then I’m glad.”

“He was,” Shouto muttered. “He was nice. He helped with my injuries, and just… stayed there, so I wouldn’t be alone. It was a little strange to interact with him. He talked to me like we were equal standing, instead of like a protective parent, and I didn’t get much of that otherwise. I could—” He shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Natsuo, I could understand why you liked him so much.”

Natsuo nodded, throat clogged with emotion. “Yeah.”

Fuyumi’s initial shock had died down. She didn’t seem to know how to react, but ventured, “What kind of things did you talk about?”

“A lot of things. He told me about you and Natsuo. We talked about Endeavor, and All Might. Training. I tried to show him anything non-quirk related I did, because he complimented my handwriting, or said I was clever if I put together a puzzle fast. Endeavor would only say that I wasn’t good enough. Touya made me feel like I was okay. When I asked him to look at something, he paid attention.”

Look at me was the only thing Touya had begged for. Of course he’d oblige if someone else asked it of him.

“I never knew.” Natsuo smiled ruefully. “I guess it was kind of dumb to expect him to tell me everything.”

“If I told anyone about it, they would’ve stopped him from coming,” said Shouto. “That’s probably why he didn’t say anything either.”

“It makes sense. I mean, you getting isolated in the first place was pretty drastic,” said Natsuo, pretending normalcy. “I can only imagine what would’ve happened if Endeavor found out that wasn’t working.”

He understood why Touya hadn’t said anything to Fuyumi, Mom, or Endeavor; their parents had treated him like a halfway rabid dog more than anything, and Fuyumi would’ve tattled on him immediately in fear for Shouto’s wellbeing. Of course Touya didn’t want to face that. Still, it hurt. Natsuo had kept all of Touya’s secrets. He’d been proud (if out of his depth) that Touya told him everything. What had he done, or failed to do, that made Touya think Natsuo would betray him too?

“Touya and I made a promise, the last time we saw each other,” said Shouto, looking back down at the painting. “While he was leaving, he said we shouldn’t judge each other based on Endeavor anymore. Everything else I knew was tied to Endeavor’s reputation or his expectations somehow, so that promise meant a lot to me. I thought that something could be… mine. Just mine. Free. But then the next time I asked my teacher why I hadn’t seen Touya in the garden recently, she told me he was dead. She said he’d been dead for weeks.”

What? No one had told him? Natsuo gaped, but Shouto didn’t seem to notice.

“I never got to talk to anyone about it. As far as everyone knew we’d never met, and I thought admitting we had would just make things worse. But I felt cheated. I grieved what little I knew of him and wished I could’ve learned more… And I broke our promise. As I grew more resentful of Endeavor over the years, Touya’s memory faded to the point I remembered him as another of Endeavor’s victims, the same as Mom. It wasn’t until I spoke with Midoriya during the Sports Festival that I remembered the promise. At first I felt guilty for betraying Touya’s memory, but then… and especially now…” He glanced meaningfully at Natsuo, “I’ve been doing my best to uphold that promise, not only with him but with everyone around me.”

Well, sh*t. No wonder Shouto had been so torn up about not getting to speak with Dabi during The Bachelorette. Natsuo had never realized there was anything deeper in Shouto wanting to connect with his eldest brother.

“What is it with our family and crazy depressing secrets?” Natsuo mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, Shouto, I’m so sorry!” said Fuyumi, hands over her mouth. “You weren’t told?”

Even Rei looked stricken.

“Did Endeavor say he’d tell me?” asked Shouto.

“He did,” Rei whispered.

“He might’ve tried,” said Shouto. “There was a gap in training that must’ve been the funeral proceedings, and when he came back he spoke weirdly. I didn’t understand it. He might’ve been trying to break the news but it wasn’t clear enough.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, too,” said Natsuo. “I didn’t pay enough attention to realize that your connection with Touya was so meaningful to you.”

Then and now, he meant, and Shouto clearly understood.

“I never gave you the opportunity. If you’re understanding now, that’s fine,” said Shouto. He turned back to the others. “I would… also like to detour the conversation for my own curiosity. I know that Natsuo hates Endeavor. I know that Fuyumi respects and believes in him. I’m still struggling to determine how I feel about him. But Mom, what is it that you think of him?”

Rei blinked at him in surprise.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” said Shouto, “but I want to understand you better, too, especially when you’re going to be leaving the hospital soon. I want to know your comfort levels.”

“I suppose… I suppose I can do that. I’ve talked about it here enough.”

Rei accepted the painting. She thought for a long while, eyes downcast, but none of them tried to spur her further. It was too important to rush.

“It’s a difficult question,” she murmured at last. “I understand why he acted the way he did, you see. We were young, and we loved Touya so much, and we were so afraid of what was happening… Fuyumi is right. It felt like everything was out of our control, and Enji tried to get that control back through any means he could. There will always be a part of me that feels I deserved the hurt, for how badly I failed.”

“Nobody deserves to be abused, Mom,” said Natsuo. He took her free hand and squeezed it too, hoping he could convey even a fraction of the care he was so bad at showing otherwise. “What happened to you was wrong. Every step of the way, it was wrong. There are so many more ways it could’ve gone, and the fact that he chose abuse… That was his failing, never yours.”

“You sound like my therapist,” she chuckled.

Good! Natsuo had spent many formative years worried that she was stuck with a bunch of Endeavor’s sycophants trying to brainwash her into compliance. It was a relief to know that they were genuinely trying to help her.

Of course, Rei chose this moment to look back at the window and the rindou flowers in their little vase, and Natsuo wanted to scream at her to please, please don’t make that kind of sappy face when you’re thinking of the man who put you in here!

“I think,” said Rei, “that I will always miss the man I married. He was so much better than I’d ever hoped for in the arranged marriages my parents wanted, and he gave me four beautiful children. But after Touya’s diagnosis, that man I loved disappeared.” She turned back to them with a wan smile. “From what I’ve heard, the hero Endeavor is trying to make his way back to that man. He’s trying very hard, and I’m proud of him for it. But even if he completes that journey without any obstacles and becomes that good man again, I can’t accept him back into my life. I know that I’m a fragile person. He could make a perfectly innocent movement, and I know I would expect pain to follow. I forgive him for what he did to me, but I can’t unlive that experience, and I’m at least strong enough now to know that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life flinching away from someone I’m supposed to love and trust. I think it will be nice if we correspond occasionally by letter, but I never want to see him in person again.”

“Mom?” said Natsuo, tears pricking at his eyes. “Mom, can I hug you?”

Her smile grew wider and she opened her arms. He wrapped her up tight and might’ve sniffled a little into her shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, too,” he said. “I’ve been— I’ve been so worried for so long that you might not value yourself enough to try being happy again. When I saw the paintings, I— I’m just really glad. I’ve missed you smiling.”

Rei gave a wet laugh and held him tighter. “I don’t deserve a child like you.”

“You do,” Natsuo insisted. “You deserve so much better.”

After a moment, Fuyumi stood and wrapped her arms around them both, resting her cheek on top of Natsuo’s bowed head.

“Natsu’s right,” she said, and she was definitely crying. “You deserve so much more than what you’ve gotten. I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy so, so bad—”

Shouto was the last to join them in the group hug, and as usual summed it all up short and sweet: “We love you, Mom.”

Rei laughed again, and they all stayed in that embrace for a while. When was the last time they were permitted this kind of closeness? Before Shouto was born, certainly. Natsuo probably hadn’t been old enough to develop lasting memories at that point. But it felt suffocatingly right to be together like this.

Next time, Dabi’s going to be here with us, he vowed to himself.

When they finally broke apart Rei had to wipe tears from her face, but she looked more at peace than he’d ever seen her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I—I want to make sure you remember, though, that my choices are my own. I’m not going to dictate yours. Fuyumi, if you want to keep in contact with your father, that’s perfectly fine. I understand. And Natsuo, if you want nothing to do with him, that’s also entirely valid. Shouto, if you choose one option and then change your mind, I will support you every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” said Shouto.

“Thank you for bringing us all together like this, too,” said Natsuo. “It feels really good to get all of this off our chests.”

“Exactly,” said Fuyumi. “I think this actually fixed an argument Natsu and I were having. What a relief!”

“Well, any of my children can come and visit me again at any time,” Rei chuckled. “No matter how big or small your worry, I want to listen.”

Natsuo and Shouto exchanged a glance, the same understanding: Soon you will have all of us.

Chapter 3: Why Did I Do This I Hate Beaches

Chapter Text

They left Hawks’ apartment at four in the morning, and as far as Dabi was concerned this was a form of torture.

“It’s not that bad,” said Hawks, all bundled up in his Fatgum disguise again. “You can sleep on the plane, you know.”

“In what time? It’s only two hours long!”

“I’ve seen you fall asleep in seconds, I have no doubt you’ll manage.”

“I’ll fall asleep on you on the train,” Dabi grumbled, then winced. Wasn’t that the sort of sappy thing Toga would go squealing about?

Thankfully Hawks didn’t seem to care; he just laughed, “So be it! I’ll make sure no one steals your bag if you want to rest your eyes a little more.”

Dabi did not sleep on the train to the airport. No,permissionhad him wired as if he’d chugged an entire pot of coffee. It wasn’t that napping would be strange— plenty of other people were dozing over suitcases or slumped against their companions, and they were in disguise on top of that. No one would’ve noticed or cared. But the idea of mimicking the couple on the other side of the train car, of resting his head on Hawks’ shoulder and closing his eyes... That felt like a step across the line he’d drawn for his sanity.

He and Hawks were close, he wouldn’t deny that anymore.But they were not that close.

Even if he wanted to be.

He remained rigidly seated until the train finally pulled into the airport station, and disembarked as fast as possible. They checked their luggage, passed through security, and meandered toward the gate.

“Think we can get something to eat before we board?” asked Dabi, eying a nearby Mister Donut.

“Is that going to be a good idea with your motion sickness?” said Hawks, amused.

“f*ck you, I’m taking the pills already,” said Dabi.

“Should’ve known nothing was a match for your appetite.” Hawks rolled his eyes fondly. “You can make a stop for second breakfast if you want, but I’ve got to talk to someone quick before Paragon puts us in oh-so-productive isolation.”

“What, like a phone call?”

“No, in person. They should already be near here.” When he saw the look on Dabi’s face he rushed to reassure him, “It’ll be fast, I swear! There’s no way I’m missing the plane.”

Great, but that wasn’t what Dabi was worried about. Why was Hawks meeting some sketchy contact at the last minute? Surely if it was a safe or approved meeting it could’ve been done in his agency office a week ago? Even yesterday? This had suspicious written all over it.

“Who are you meeting?” he asked.

“Oh, nobody,” said Hawks, in the least convincing tone Dabi had ever heard.

Dabi raised an unimpressed brow. “Wow. It’s a good thing you chose heroics because you’d be sh*t at any kind of spy mission.”

Hawks smiled, but it was really more of a grimace. “Ha! Well. Thankfully the Commission agreed.”

“What do you mean,thankfully?”

“Anyway, I need to get this out of the way quick and then we’re full steam to Paradise!” said Hawks. “Really, don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you—"

“Hell no, I’m coming with you,” said Dabi.

“If you want, I suppose?” said Hawks. “Forewarning though, you’re not going to understand much...”

“I don’t care,” said Dabi.

Hawks huffed out a laugh. “All right. In that case, come this way.”

He veered off down one of the hallways. Only one of the gates here seemed to be in use, but it was busy to the point the passengers for this one flight had overtaken the seating areas of the neighboring gates. There was grumbling, complaining, crying children and arguments over seats, but Hawks cut easily through them, glancing down at his phone to ensure he was going the right way. He led Dabi almost halfway down the hall, to a place where the crowds thinned between the gate and the bathrooms. There, in a corner by the big windows, waited Hawks’ contacts.

There were two of them: the first looked like he was supposed to be a bartender, with slicked back hair, a severe expression, and… a drawn-on mustache? He gripped the handles of the wheelchair in which the second contact sat wearing very loud All Might gear and a pair of sunglasses. Dabi had the feeling he knew just who that was.

“Ah!” said the first one, gesturing one arm sharply up and down. “Mr. Takahiro and Mr. Himura! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“No need to be so anxious about them, Tenya. We’re all friends, here,” said the one in the wheelchair.

He took off his sunglasses, and yeah, that was absolutely Tensei Iida, retired pro hero and leader of the Commission coup. Dabi had heard a lot about Ingenium over the years, but it was still something of a shock to see he looked so… young. And friendly.

“Hello,” said Tensei, holding out a hand. “Our friend Takahiro here has told us a lot about you, Mr. Himura, but it’s nice to meet you in person.”

Gingerly Dabi shook his hand and grumbled, “What kind of nonsense is he telling you?”

“All good things,” Tensei chuckled. “Last week, actually, he said you made a bento and he—”

“Nothing important!” Hawks squawked, rushing forward. “This must be Ingenium Jr, huh? It’s nice to see you in person too, kid!”

Tenya Iida seemed overwhelmed by the attention of the number two hero, but he was more of a rigid person than his brother so mostly this made him look constipated.

“Th-th-thank you! It’s an honor to make your acquaintance!” he said, arm going up and down again for emphasis.

“I know this is last minute so we’re not going to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to confirm a few things with you,” said Tensei, producing a folder from a bag in his wheelchair. “In the best case scenario you’re going to be isolated from the situation for weeks, and I’m not going to move forward with the Wolfram case without your approval on these key subjects.”

Hawks took the folder and opened it up. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to. I trust your choices.”

“That may be, but I think other people have hijacked your voice enough for a lifetime,” said Tensei. “I’m going to make sure you’re really comfortable with this.”

Dabi approved. Ingenium moved several places up on his mental hero ranking. He let himself relax as Hawks reviewed the file. Hawks had a few questions— about what exactly was unclear, because they’d come up with some kind of code to throw off eavesdroppers.In the end Hawks snapped the file shut and handed it back.

“I give this a full approval. You really think of everything, don’t you?”

“Reading the Commission files only shows how many loopholes they’ve abused in the past. I’m not giving them any openings,” said Tensei.

“If you do need any further support from my end, you can reach out to my agency. During the hiring stages I made sure everyone on the payroll aligned with the Commission requirements but that none of them were in their pockets.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the one in their pocket,” Dabi grumbled.

“Yeah, but they wanted to know that I was following through on my orders instead of bluffing my way out of their control,” said Hawks. “A few spies did get in—I couldn’t keep all of them out if I didn’t want the Commission to see through my little game—but they dropped out or got relocated when they confirmed I was keeping up the act. None of them have been involved in the last year, and now that my agency’s got an idea of what’s going on, they’re not going to let anybody else wiggle their way in. You can trust them.”

Dabi set his glare on Tensei and said, “Kick the Commission’s ass.”

“Gladly,” said Tensei. “That’s all I needed from you.”

But now Tenya piped up, pumping his arm again. “Excuse me! There is one thing that I would like to address myself before you go!”

“Oh? What’s that?” said Hawks.

Tenya withdrew a small notepad and pen from his pocket and held it out to Dabi. “My classmate is a fan of yours, Mr. Himura. I’d like to request an autograph on his behalf.”

Dabi stared at the notepad dumbly. Something like dread settled in his chest, and he was only dimly aware of the other two watching; when he looked up, Tenya was looking right back with an unyielding gaze.

“Who?” Dabi croaked.

And he knew, of course he knew, but—

“Shouto Todoroki,” said Tenya.

sh*t. f*ck. Okay. Well, he had to accept it because they might ask why if he didn’t, and he didn’t want to look like an asshole who snubbed high schoolers. He took the notepad and pen, opened to a new page.

“I’ve never signed anything before,” he muttered, mostly to buy time since his brain felt like the blue screen of death.

“It’s a lot simpler than your brain makes you think,” said Hawks. “It always goes over well if you write a little something to go with your signature that lets your fan know you’re recognizing them. Like, thank you for your support, Shouto! Or something like that. It doesn’t need to be an essay.”

What could he write to Shouto?

He hesitated, and then:

I read the letter.

That… felt right. He really didn’t have time to second guess it because he was already second guessing how to actually sign it. If this was for Shouto, who already knew… But it would be in someone else’s hands before Shouto’s. And did he really want to admit anything further to Shouto anyway? He signed with Dabi and shoved the pad and pen back into Tenya’s hands.

“There.”

“Thank you,” said Tenya, and bowed deeply. “I’m sure he will be very appreciative!”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dabi shoved his hands into his pockets so no one could see that they were shaking. “We’ve got a flight to catch. Are we done here?”

“I think we are, unless you have any other concerns?” said Tensei.

“None from me,” said Hawks. “Take care of yourselves, okay?”

“That’s what we should be telling you two,” Tensei laughed. “Enjoy the beach.”

“Thank you again. We’ll be watching and supporting you!” said Tenya.

And so they parted ways, with Dabi trying his best not to cringe too obviously. It had been bad enough knowing that Shouto apparently watched him on TV. It was a new, terrible low to realize Shouto was watching him on TV with the full understanding of who he was. He didn’t even know the kid anymore and he wanted to crawl in a hole and die of shame. Unfortunately he didn’t get that opportunity.

“There you are! Over here!” Misty was waving at them from their destination gate.

“Good morning. Have you been waiting long?” said Hawks.

“Any length of time is too long this early in the morning,” said Misty. “It was so much worse for the Tokyo crew, though. Their batch of contestants didn’t show up on time last night, so they got bumped to the next flight at two in the morning today.”

“Damn, glad I’m not in Tokyo,” said Dabi.

“Are we expecting any other contestants in our group?” asked Hawks.

“Thankfully just the two of you,” said Misty. “Dabi, did you get my message yesterday?”

In answer, Dabi pulled a lanyard out from where it had been hiding under the collar of his coat. Misty had given it to him before The Bachelorette, and it bore two pins—one pink line and a red rose—to represent the show he’d already worked. Misty hummed in approval and added a new one.

“A crab?” said Dabi, squinting down at it. “A crab with a knife?”

“Paragon let us get a little creative with it this year. There’s only so many variations of roses and rings you can stand, and let’s be honest, Paradise has so many crabs,” said Misty.

“I thought we got tested for that kind of sh*t in advance,” said Dabi.

“I mean crabs in the most literal way. You’ll understand when you get there,” said Misty. “Hawks, bend down a little.” Mystified, Hawks obeyed, and she put another lanyard with the same pin collection around his neck. “There you go! You’re a part of it, now.”

Hawks plucked at the lanyard, co*cking his head to inspect it. “Part of… what, exactly?”

“The crew,” said Dabi. “Lanyard means you’re one of them, eligible for the same perks.”

“Like the seating block on the plane, the food, the comped hotel rooms,” Misty listed, then startled at the sound of a bag being dropped behind her. “Oh, that better not be any camera lenses. Hang on!”

She hurried off to investigate. Hawks, meanwhile, was tracing the edge of the new pin as if trying to confirm it actually existed.

“Maybe you’re rich enough to make up for it anyway, but it’s still convenient,” Dabi muttered, scuffing a foot on the tile to try beating off the nerves. Why was he even nervous?

“Did you do this last time? On the way to The Bachelorette?” asked Hawks.

“Yeah. Why?”

Hawks looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is Misty your agent?”

“Of course she’s not my f*cking agent, who do you think I am?” said Dabi. “Of all the stupid jokes—”

“I’m genuinely asking,” said Hawks. “It’s obvious she’s been looking out for you, and let’s be real, nobody’s this attentive normally. I’ve been participating in show business since my debut, and no one has ever been this helpful.”

Well, no one had likely been aware of and protecting his secret dead-celebrity-child backstory, either. Dabi didn’t know how he’d been lucky enough to get Misty’s loyalty like that and wasn’t really comfortable thinking about it too long.

“Okay, not camera lenses,” said Misty, returning with two more familiar faces.

“Shion, Prey! Long time no see!” Hawks laughed, high-fiving her.

“It’s been forever! What’s been up with you two?” said Shion. “Anything fun?”

Her tail was flicking in anticipation and Dabi shut that right down: “Nothing.”

“Yeah,” Misty said dully. “Nothing.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” said Shion. Prey extended a hand and she clapped some yen into his palm but she looked very mad about it.

“Are you betting on something?” said Dabi, suspicious.

“It’s nothing you want to know about,” said Prey, tucking the money into his coin purse.

A chime rang out above their heads, and a too-perky desk worker announced, “We are now boarding for Flight Fifty-One to Okinawa at Terminal D, Gate Five. Please be ready to present your boarding pass.”

“That’s us!” said Misty. “Are you ready?”

Hell f*cking no, but Dabi grimaced and said, “Bring it on.”

It was really no surprise that their destination was Okinawa. Okinawa was well known for its beaches, and Dabi had heard plenty of celebrities and well-off people bragging about their vacations on its shores. Summer was prime time for tourists, so when they finally landed and exited the plane, they found the airport packed with people. The crew moved in a big pack that forced the larger crowd to part around them, so Dabi was saved the ordeal of tripping over small children or dodging rolling luggage. Misty led them out of the little terminal, onto a bus in the parking lot, and off they went. The bus took them along palm lined streets in the bustling city of Naha and then out on long, busy roads.

“Here we go, Batuu City’s Empire Stays,” said Misty, after what seemed like hours.

“Why did I ever expect anything else?” Dabi grumped as he followed her off the bus.

“Well, remember, this isn’t your Paradise beach,” said Misty. “This is where the crew is staying! Some of the dates take place here, but those would be split between this hotel and the Bespin Empire Stays, which is a little smaller.”

Dabi could believe it. He had to crane his neck to see the whole of this massive white resort, curled around a massive pool and sheltering its own private beach. There seemed to be hundreds of shade umbrellas and cabanas, and judging by the signs near the door this place hosted spas and other leisure activities.

If someone tries to take me on a spa date I will commit villainy, he thought.

“We are not going through the front doors, though,” said Misty, and hustled them away through a more secluded garden area on the side.

“Who are we avoiding?” asked Dabi, allowing himself to be pulled.

“Everyone,” said Misty.“Paradise starts tomorrow and we’re running short on time already, we are not losing anyone to an impromptu meet and greet. If we had a choice we’d bring you to a less busy hotel for prep, but this is the busiest time of year for tourists and Paragon spent all its money on advertising this season. It was all we could do to book our little wing, there was no way in hell we could reserve the whole building.”

Ah. The general public. That made sense.

Dabi very much wanted to keep to himself until he was under a proper security contingent again; even if the other people in the hotel were harmless fans, all it would take was one geotagged picture and Dabi was toast. Overhaul certainly wouldn’t care about any niceties of the tourism season if he came visiting. Misty may not have known the whole story but thankfully she was proceeding with caution, and Hawks had his own reasons to stay low so made no argument.

“What kind of prep do we need to be doing?” Dabi asked, tugging the hood of his coat a little closer even if it was sweltering here.

“You two? Not much,” she replied. “Most of the prep work is for us as the crew. Cameras and mic checks, making sure all the reservations are set up... Sounds simple but it’s a mess. You’re going to want to check in with some workers, but we’re all in the same area so it won’t be difficult.”

This was very true. Up on the tenth floor they were led to a branching hallway that seemed to have all of its doors open, equipment strewn outside as crewmembers flitted to and fro. A few paused to greet them, but most seemed frazzled and kept moving.

“Duck in here, I’ll give you a quick rundown on what you’d be dealing with on the sound,” said Shion, veering into one of the open rooms.

Dabi and Hawks followed her in. Clearly she was sharing with someone else, because the twin beds and accompanying chairs were already strewn with equipment. She swept a few fuzzy microphone windscreens out of the way and dumped her own large bag onto the mattress.

“So, the sound system in Paradise is going to be a little different from what you were used to on The Bachelorette,” she said, unzipping and throwing it open. “Namely, there’s going to be a lot less clothing.”

“And a lot more water,” said Hawks.

“Exactly! We’ve got to roll with the punches and adapt to our surroundings. We’re going to use another setup that you’re going to recognize from your pool party turned car chase date on The Bachelorette. Your setup’s going to be a few pieces.”

She started laying these out on the bed, one set for each of them. The first was a thick length of stretchy fabric that would velcro in the front with a secured pocket on the back, which was a perfect fit for the mic pack that was deposited next to it. Next came the long cord that would plug into it capped with the tiny microphone.

“You wear this around your hips, under your clothes,” said Shion, tapping the fabric. “It’s light, it’s breathable, it’s comfy so long as you don’t have fur. When you’ve got it set up, the wire will go up your back and be anchored in a necklace you’ll be wearing. We want to get the microphones as close to your face as possible, you know?”

“I didn’t bring any necklaces,” said Dabi.

“I did, but I didn’t think that was on the list of things to bring,” said Hawks. “I don’t know if mine will work…”

“That’s fine, we brought a bunch for you to use,” said Shion. She picked one out of her bag and held it out to Dabi. “What do you think of this one? Willing to wear it?”

It was a pretty innocuous piece: a woven black cord, with a long silver piece at its center. It was a silver feather. Dabi became all the more aware of Hawks at his side. He squinted at Shion, trying to determine just what her goal was in embarrassing him, but she only co*cked her head in curiosity.

“No? We’ve got some more with beads, if you prefer that. Shark teeth, too. I think there’s one with a compass pendant…”

Maybe he was the fool for reading too far into it. The necklace didn’t look bad or uncomfortable, so he grumbled, “I’ll just take this one.”

“Nice!” Shion handed it over and showed him how to adjust the length using the sliding knots, and he put it on so the feather rested cool against the dip of his collarbone.

“Looking good!” said Hawks. “Did you say I get one too?”

“Of course!” Shion said sweetly, and gave him a necklace very similar, but instead of the feather it had a series of beads in a very distinct shade of blue.

“You f*cker,” Dabi hissed under his breath.

Shion’s ear flicked and she gave a sh*t-eating grin. “Everyone on the beach is going to be so very fashionable!”

“Are the women going to have necklaces too?” asked Hawks, blessedly ignorant of the Team Hotwings theme.

“Nah, it’s easier with them. We just stick the mic packs in their bikini top straps,” said Shion. “If you hug anybody, try not to jostle it too much. Hey, Prey, have you got any other good tips for them?”

“The pins do not lie,” said Prey, stoic as always. “There will be crabs.” He made pincer movements with his hands. The support gear on his fingers made appropriate clacking noises.

From then on, the day stayed busy. Another sound worker came in to add details about swimming with the mic packs, someone else came in to refute it, there was a five-way argument that ended up with the simple explanation “they’re waterproof.” From then they were whisked away to talk introductions and rules and in-case-of-emergency plans. It took over an hour for them to escape long enough to put their luggage in their rooms, and even then they had no time to linger. At one point the host Sato waved enthusiastically at them from the other end of the hallway, but they didn’t get to talk because he was swiftly rerouted to deal with some other contestant being spotted near the hotel pool. The only real downtime they had was dinner, where a small meeting room on this floor had been reserved to host a buffet. With so few tables available the crew was on shifts to eat there; Dabi wolfed down his food and spent the rest of his forty-five minute block with his head cushioned on his arms as he tried to drown out the chaos, before being dragged off for some pre-Paradise clips that needed to be uploaded on the official website.

“The only positive thing I have to say about today is that Curious was not involved,” Dabi groaned at nine that night, trudging back along the reserved hallway; thankfully it had emptied out and there were fewer cords on the floor.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” said Hawks, walking alongside him with the usual annoying bounce to his step.

“The only way you aren’t tired too is if you've sold your soul,” said Dabi.

“Yes, to the H.P.S.C., crueler than any demon,” Hawks joked, but didn’t linger long enough to Dabi to point out how f*cked up that was. “For real, though, Paradise hasn’t even fully started. I’ve got a suspicion that the beach is going to be way more tiring than this.”

“God, you’re right. I hate that,” said Dabi.

“Are you mentally prepared for it?”

“I will be. I mean, f*ck it, there’s booze, right?”

“There was booze at the Bachelorette mansion too, but I remember you keeping everyone from alcohol-induced disaster a lot more than I remember you indulging.”

“Eh,” said Dabi, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Paradise has its own bar and bartender, right? I don’t have to worry about corralling anyone’s stupidity.”

“Hm. If you think so.”

Dabi squinted at Hawks’ obvious amusem*nt and said, “I’m not corralling anyone’s stupidity.”

“Right.”

“I don’t like the way you’re saying that.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to find out how it goes tomorrow!” said Hawks.

“Ugh,” said Dabi, slowing to a stop before his door. “What time are we supposed to be leaving?”

“Room service at seven, departure at nine,” said Hawks.

“Disgusting. I’m going to go fall unconscious before they come up with anything else for us to do tonight. Don’t let them get you, either.”

Hawks gave a quick, mocking salute. Dabi rolled his eyes, retreated to his room, and closed the door. Thank goodness his room wasn’t shared. Misty had left a duffel bag labeled “backup swimming gear” on the armchair, but he had faith she’d wait until a decent hour to retrieve it. He was free to relax and putter around to get ready for bed in peace.

Something lingered in his brain, though: a little niggling sensation like he was forgetting something important. It persisted annoyingly as he changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, worrying enough that he found himself glancing around as if there were some threat waiting in the shadows. It wasn’t until he’d crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling a while before he realized what it was.

It was his routine.

It felt entirely wrong to be closing out the night on his own, instead of curled up together on Hawks’ dumb couch. It made him restless. Anxious.God, how stupid. Had he really gotten that attached?

But... maybe we could still do that, he thought.

How reckless that would be. But Hawks was right across the hall. It didn’t have to be weird. Hawks was weird with friends to start with, he probably wouldn’t pick up on any feelings at all. It would be fine. Super platonic.

Convinced, Dabi stood up again. He marched to the door, threw it open and said, “Hawks—"

And Hawks was still there in the hallway with his hand resting on his own doorknob, but he wasn’t alone. Shion and Prey had shown up again for a conversation. Prey started tugging at Shion’s sleeve but she didn’t budge. She looked at Dabi with ears pricked and eyes wide in anticipation.f*ck.

“Yeah?” said Hawks, looking hopeful himself. “Did you need something?”

Whatever dumb courage Dabi had summoned fizzled immediately. Even if Shion and Prey were capable of keeping a secret, dozens of other crew members lingered out of sight and no hotel’s walls were thick enough for any real privacy. What if someone less kind tried to make a late night visit into something it wasn’t? Surely the other Paradise contestants were in this wing too, and if someone fed any details to them it would be prime manipulation material. He and Hawks would both be f*cked over before Paradise even began.

“No. It’s nothing,” said Dabi. “Good night.”

Hawks’ wings drooped a little. “Oh. Uh, good night. I’ll see you in Paradise, I suppose.”

Dabi nodded awkwardly and closed the door. He leaned against it with his hands over his face, mentally cursing himself for being so dumb. Distantly he heard the click of Hawks’ door closing too.

“Oh, come on!” Shion groaned in the hallway.

“Yeah, that was our fault,” said Prey.

What are you even talking about,Dabi wanted to scream, but he feared the knowledge might do terrible things to his sanity.

Not that his sanity did very well anyway. He tossed and turned the whole night, torn between embarrassment at that little exchange, discomfort from being so far from those peaceful nights in f*ckuoka, and anxiety about the upcoming TV series. Twice in the dark he got up and searched through his bags to confirm he had everything he needed—Paradise clothes, burn cream, a sh*tton of sunscreen, Compress’ marble with the emergency phone inside—and when that didn’t settle him down he opened his phone.

This is stupid, he thought, scrolling through social media. He was wasting time for the sake of wasting time! He should be sleeping, to be well rested and able to deal with the mess of Paradise! He knew it but he couldn’t stop scrolling!

In a moment of brainlessness he called the League, but Shigaraki’s phone only rang once before he realized how sh*tty an idea it was to be calling past three in the morning when they’d already had their dumb goodbye call earlier and hung up. Unfortunately it didn’t go unnoticed.

I swear to god if you’re not dying in a ditch while calling at this hour I’ll end you myself, Shigaraki texted a minute later.

f*ck you, Dabi texted back.

f*ck YOU, Shigaraki replied.

Thankfully(?) the rest of the night passed quickly. Dabi felt like he barely blinked a few times before suddenly the sun was up, and there was really no point pretending to rest any longer. He rubbed miserably at his face (another plus to the scarring was that no one would be able to see the bags that otherwise would’ve formed under his eyes) and slunk out of bed well before his alarm was supposed to go off. Misty had asked him to text her once he was up, so he did. Almost immediately there was a knock at his door. He opened it and found her there with a food cart.

“Room service!” she chirped. “Now let me in before any of the other contestants notice me out here. Their anxiety levels are through the roof and one of them’s already accused a cameraman of seducing another contestant who wasn’t even invited. I’m too ace to deal with that directed at me.”

Dabi grimaced and stepped aside for her to quickly wheel the cart in. With the door safely closed, he lifted the lid on the food. Orange juice, a salad with greens, and omurice with the hotel’s logo seemingly stamped onto it… Not a bad spread.

“Okay, this is your last opportunity to back out,” said Misty. “So. Paradise. You. Is it happening?”

“If it wasn’t happening I wouldn’t have gotten on the damn plane,” said Dabi. “Or have you forgotten what we talked about before? About the whole life in danger thing?”

“It was worth a shot,” she grumbled. “Well! If it’s happening, I’m going to give you the rundown for today. We’re taking you out to the Paradise location, and there’s going to be a special, one-by-one entrance for each of the people involved. We’ll drop you off at the top of the path in the resort, you’ll stop halfway down it for a short sort of recap interview with Sato, and then you’ll be sent all the way down to the beach where all the contestants will be able to meet each other…”

“Like the co*cktail room on the first night of The Bachelorette?” said Dabi, picking at the salad.

“Exactly like that,” said Misty. “Once you’re all gathered you’ll be brought into the main area of the resort to explore, and that’s when Paradise really begins. Keep in mind that there aren’t many group dates like you were used to in the mansion. On the rare occasion that they do happen, they’re double dates with only two couples. And beyond that, who goes on a date is based on the preferences of whoever finds the date card, so there’s a possibility that you won’t get any formal dates at all.”

Dabi perked up. “Is that a promise?”

Misty threw a napkin at his face with a scowl. “Don’t sound so pleased about it. Some people despair over not getting chosen.”

“And I’m not one of them,” said Dabi.

“Clearly,” she huffed. “But that means you have to do all your romance work onsite.”

“Isn’t there some kind of saying about not sh*tting where you eat?” said Dabi.

“You don’t get a choice in this if you want to stay,” said Misty. “Besides, you won’t be the only one.” Her annoyance faded for worry again. “I’ll be there with the rest of the crew, so let us know if you need anything. I mean it.”

Dabi wondered vaguely if this was the ‘agent’ behavior Hawks had been talking about before, but nodded his head to get it all over with.

Once breakfast was done and he’d prepared himself for the day, Misty confiscated his phone and led him down to the same side door they’d used to enter the building. Instead of the usual limo, a big white SUV was idling in the driveway. It turned out to have a similar seating arrangement though, because Misty ushered him inside and climbed in to sit facing him. The drive took a while. Surely this would be the time any competitor was briefed on the last-minute requests and requirements but they’d already gotten that out of the way. Dabi kept his eyes closed and mind as calm as possible, until the SUV finally came to a stop on a thin road completely in the shade of thick trees.

“This is it?” he asked, looking around as he stepped out of the vehicle. There was no sign of any building, no other cars or people.

“It’s not the main entrance,” Misty said with a shrug. “Do you see that little gap in the trees? That’s where you’re going. Just be yourself, and we’ll see you at the resort.”

Dabi took a deep breath and set out.

The walking path was narrow, made of stones and lined with thick ferns and palms to the point nothing could be seen through them. The few wicker lanterns hanging along its course would be useful at night, but in the meantime Dabi simply followed the curving stairs down to a small, festively decorated seating area where Sato awaited him. He was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt and shorts, and it was so different from the suits he’d worn on The Bachelorette that Dabi almost missed a step in surprise.

“Welcome, Dabi,” said Sato, beaming.

Dabi nodded in greeting. “I’d say ‘long time no see,’ but it hasn’t been very long at all.”

“That’s true, it hasn’t!” said Sato. “You were on Aiko’s season, so we’re very familiar with you right now. Can you tell us what happened?”

“It didn’t work out,” said Dabi, shrugging. Obviously.

“But you chose to come here, which means that you do think that this could work with the right person. Is that correct?”

“If I didn’t believe in it, I wouldn’t be here,” Dabi lied. “And for some people it does work. I mean, you saw how The Bachelorette worked for Aiko and Saito. They’re happy.”

“They really are,” said Sato, smiling warmly. “After Aiko’s season ended, we all saw how supportive you are of her during the Men Tell All episode. In a sense, you gave them your blessing. You’ve made peace with the end of that relationship you were in, but are you ready to look for love here when that’s so fresh for you?”

End of that relationship? Ha! As far as Dabi was concerned the relationships hadn’t changed at all. Before the plane ride here, Saito had sent him a Good luck and please don’t stress out! text and Aiko had sent another at the same time about Your prince is waiting! with so many heart emojis Dabi had almost thought she was Toga. The hearts were in character even if the typo wasn’t, but whatever.

“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem,” said Dabi. “I wasn’t… open enough, to have let it become a problem. I’m getting better at that, though, so I thought Paradise would be good.”

“Are you looking forward to meeting anyone in particular here?” asked Sato.

Dabi snorted. “And assume we’d get along? I wouldn’t do that to myself. I’ve got no opinions or hopes for anyone until I’ve actually interacted with them.”

“Open to anything. I admire that,” said Sato. “Well, please know that I’ll be cheering you on and I wish you lots of luck. Welcome to Paradise.”

“Thanks,” said Dabi.

Sato shook his hand, and from there Dabi was waved on down the rest of the stone stairs until he reached the beach itself.

Ugh.

The beach.

Why had he agreed to this again? He hated beaches.

Any photographer would’ve swooned: the water was an almost unnatural blue-green, clear and sparkling and capped in white foam as waves rolled in over the beach’s pale sand. It looked like a super-saturated dream. And yeah, it may have been aesthetically beautiful, but when he looked at it all he could think of was sand under his staples and saltwater biting at his seams. This was going to suck so badly.

Only one person stood out on the sand: a woman with ash-blond hair styled into spikes around her ears. It was a distinctive enough look that Dabi recognized her even before she turned around and bared her sharp teeth in a smile.

“Hey!” she called. “Finally, someone’s here! I’ve been dying with nerves. How are you?”

“Tatami, right?” said Dabi.

“You’ve got it!” said Tatami. “You and me, we’re both newbies. I was on the last season of The Bachelor. You, uh, didn’t see all that, did you?” She looked faintly ill at the idea.

“Only at a glance,” said Dabi.

“Good. My exit wasn’t exactly dignified,” said Tatami.

He had no idea what that meant and was unsure what this said about Tatami herself. His first impression of her was of someone nervously excited, but also someone ready to make connections. The fact that she’d admitted to disgrace may have been the sign of an honest and well-adjusted person, but this was also a Bachelor series, so that could also be the massive red flag of I-was-dramatic-even-past-the-point-of-acceptable-drama, which was terrifying because the drama threshold here was very high.

“Have you met anyone yet?” Tatami continued, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. “We’re not supposed to be announcing to the world if we’re participating, but we do have the ability to tell our friends, and if we’re still in contact with other people through Bachelor Nation, we tend to know if they’re arriving. I know about one other woman but nothing else.”

“No idea. I’ve got no connections,” said Dabi.

The next person down the stairs was another woman: this one with the head of a snake and a wild mane of red hair.

“Mongoose!” Tatami cried, and ran toward her.

“Tatami!” said the snake woman, and ran as well, flowy skirt rippling in the wind before she caught Tatami in a hug and lifted her right off her feet.

They giggled together for a while before Tatami led Mongoose back over to Dabi.

“Mongoose, this is Dabi. Dabi, Mongoose. She was on my season of The Bachelor, too!”

“I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s a nice surprise,” said Mongoose. Her voice was low, and all her ‘s’ sounds came out as a hiss.

Dabi didn’t believe her enthusiasm for a second. It was far more likely that they were excited for him as a sign Hawks would be following.

“Mongoose is a model,” said Tatami, clearly proud.

Mongoose seemed to be blushing. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Dabi had some experience noticing that sort of thing through scales. “It isn’t as cool as Tatami makes it seem.”

“You’ve been on billboards and magazines! How is that not cool?” said Tatami.

“When you get behind the scenes, it really isn’t— My goodness! Is that La Brava?”

La Brava was very similar to her twin sister, but at the same time nothing like her. Her hair was much darker, pulled back into sleek pigtails atop her head; her eyes were pink, but dragged down by dark circles she’d tried to hide with heavy eyeliner; most of all, though, she was short. Super short. She was barely the height of Dabi’s midriff. She descended the stairs with far more concentration than anyone else, and seemed startled when Tatami and Mongoose rushed to greet her. Likewise, when they dragged her back over to Dabi, she looked at him without any of Aiko’s cheer. She looked contemplative. Disinterested.

“La Brava’s a tech genius,” said Tatami. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a computer virus, video editing, or anything else with a battery, she can save you. It’s like magic.”

“It’s really not,” said La Brava.

“She’s also a master of mascara,” said Mongoose. “During our season, she helped all the other girls with the perfect winged eyeliner when they were nervous for their dates—”

“It wasn’t that impressive,” said La Brava.

Ah. This behavior felt sort of familiar. Dabi couldn’t figure out why, though.

The three women chattered among themselves with Dabi as their lone audience until another person descended the stairs. It was another woman. This one had honey-colored hair and a pink star painted on her face in the same shade as her gauzy swimsuit-gown.

“Hey!” she called, prancing over to them in her high heeled sandals.

“Hey!” chorused the other women, and welcomed her into their midst.

Apparently this woman was called Amplifier, and she was a wannabe-singer from The Bachelor two or three seasons ago.

“So,” she said slowly, when all introductions were done, “is this… all of us so far?”

“Yeah,” said Tatami. “I was the first here, so I know we’re not missing anyone. Dabi’s the only man so far, and then there’s us.”

They all looked at Dabi, and clearly none of them found him particularly appealing. Dabi didn’t blame them. He hadn’t offered much in conversation, and he was a heavily scarred, stapled stranger wearing boots on a beach. He practically oozed “no fun.”

The man who arrived next should’ve been some kind of salvation for the women, but he was not.

“GOOD AFTERNOON! IT IS A PLEASURE TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE!” yelled the man descending the steps. He was big and muscular, hair buzzed short, and his smile was freakishly wide in what might’ve been rage or might’ve been joy. Hard to tell. “MY NAME IS INASA YOARASHI! I HOPE YOU WILL BE COMFORTABLE CALLING ME INASA! I’M IN YOUR CARE! LET’S HAVE FUN TOGETHER!”

On the last step he stopped and bowed, way too low. He practically doubled over and slammed his head straight into the stone of the step.

“f*cking hell!” cried Dabi, as the women shrieked. “You couldn’t do that on the sand?”

Inasa straightened back up, blood gushing from his forehead, and his smile somehow got wider. “APOLOGIES! MY EXCITEMENT GOT THE BEST OF ME!”

Filming paused as Shion dashed out to attend to his injury. With her quirk she managed to close the cut, but to prevent any sand or sun irritation they taped some gauze to his head to cover it. A few red spots remained on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. He was far more interested trying to strike up a conversation with the other participants.

The next person down was another woman. This one had pale pink hair and soft gray eyes, with an odd white puff near her earlobe that might’ve been her quirk or might’ve been earrings.

“Oh, no,” Amplifier groaned. “Not Fuwa.”

“What’s the story with Fuwa?” Dabi asked Tatami, since Tatami seemed to be so knowledgeable about the others.

“She’s a really sweet person,” said Tatami, embarrassed. “That’s the whole problem. She’s cute, and kind, and guys tend to fixate on her and ignore everyone else in the room.”

Dabi could understand it. When Fuwa came alongside them she folded her hands and bowed, and when she lifted her head there was a light flush of excitement on her cheeks. “I’m looking forward to getting to know everyone,” she said. Gently. Softly. She radiated safety and relaxation as effectively as a kotatsu.

The next man down was Gentle.

“Dabi!” he cried, and hurried toward them. He looked almost absurd in his cool collared shirt and shorts. He’d been so proper in the Bachelorette mansion that Dabi hadn’t considered that he would ever own sandals, but clearly he did. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“Hey,” said Dabi, giving a weak wave. “You’ve been well?”

“I have! And I’ve been preparing!” said Gentle. “Considering the heat, I’ve been investigating new, cooler, more refreshing teas!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dabi noticed La Brava distancing herself. She looked down at the sand with a scowl.

The next woman down was a blond with thick blue glasses, apparently named Claire Voyance.

“Yes, my quirk gives me x-ray vision,” she told them before anyone could so much as say hello. “Can I see through clothes? Yes. Will I be using this on any of you? No. If anyone tries using my quirk as part of a pickup line, will I drag them into the ocean and drown them myself? Absolutely.”

“YOUR STRAIGHTFORWARDNESS IS REFRESHING, AND I WILL BE GLAD TO BE MORE CREATIVE WITH MY PICKUP LINES!” cried Inasa.

The next man to arrive was Hawks. He took multiple steps at a time, wings fanning for a graceful, weightless descent, and shouted, “What’s up, Paradise?”

All of the women predictably perked up, and Gentle laughed and called back, “Welcome, Hawks! It’s good to see you, too!”

When Hawks reached them he gave Gentle a quick hug, and gave Dabi a high five as if they hadn’t seen each other just last night. “It’s good to be here, especially in such great company.”

He stood close to Dabi, which meant everyone’s attention was drawn in toward him again. La Brava alone stood silent and apart from them.

The other participants kept coming in, staggered between men and women. Tatami had been outmaneuvered for Hawks’ company but was content to stand on Dabi’s other side and feed him information about the others as they arrived.

For the men, there were six more attendees:

• Tsutsutaka, a beefy man with a long pointed chin and a long pointed pompadour of the same length. “Gets super nitpicky and brings down the mood fast. He was the villain of Bachelorette season sixteen.”
• Shikkui, a man with a pale, shining blue carapace. “He’s so dreamy,” Tatami sighed, but Dabi couldn’t see it. “Definitely one of the most popular men in the last few years.”
• Itejuro, who looked like a knockoff Eraserhead with a red bandana instead of a capture scarf. “He’s nice, but like, kind of plain? He got sent home the first night of The Bachelorette two seasons ago.”
• Tokuda, who Dabi recognized as the main photographer of The Bachelorette’s arcade date. “He was on Paradise two seasons ago and left engaged! He recently broke up with his fiancé, though. It’s really sad, since they were such a nice couple.”
• Nagamasa, a man comprised of long blond hair; a single eye was visible through the tresses, giving him the appearance of an inquisitive sheepdog. “He’s really cool and responsible. I can’t imagine he’d be comfortable in this heat, though…”
• Cider, who looked as if someone had taken Dabi’s middle school portrait and turned it into an adult asshole. “He’s the series villain from three years ago. Probably best to avoid him.”

Meanwhile, for the women there were seven more:

• Chikuchi, with brunette pigtails and a permanently displeased expression. “She complains about everything.”
• Kashiko, with sleek white hair and glasses that radiated “successful businesswoman.” “She’s nice, but she misses a lot of emotional cues. She likes to streamline things.”
• X, a woman who looked like a humanoid bumblebee. “Don’t talk to her unless you’re obsessed with online engagement. She’s always talking about her follower count.”
• Enigma, a short woman with two long black braids, who looked in desperate need of a nap. “She has the scariest quirk, but she’s a really nice person.”
• Kuin, a woman with a patch over her left eye and a devious sort of smile. “A troublemaker. She stirred up a lot of sh*t during her season, so if we get any more girls who were in the mansion with her the drama will be out of control.”
• Dusty Ash, who had white hair in a messy ponytail and muscles that could probably deadlift anyone here. “She’s a fitness trainer with a lot of followers online, but she doesn’t let it take over her life. Once she cosplayed Star and Stripe, and it was the coolest.”

The very last person to join them was a petite woman with short white hair and pale gray eyes. She looked perfectly innocent, but at the first sight of her on the stairs, the relaxed atmosphere around the other participants was ruined. They tensed. Smiles became more rigid.

“Okay, so I have got to know,” Hawks whispered, bracing an elbow on Dabi’s shoulder to lean toward Tatami, “how does that innocent-looking girl get even Cider and Kuin’s hackles up?”

“That’s Zookeeper,” said Tatami, with the kind of gravity one might use at the approach of the Grim Reaper. “She’s… I wouldn’t say a series villain, but she tends to put all her eggs in one basket.”

“Okay,” said Hawks, nodding slowly. “So she’ll only commit to one person at a time. That’s bad somehow?”

“She doesn’t wait for reciprocation. That’s the problem,” said Tatami.

“Zookeeper comes up with fantasies and gets mad when reality doesn’t bend for them,” La Brava grumbled. “She got all excited and rambled to me about how great a website I would build for her, except she never even asked me to build anything. She just assumed. And then when I tried to talk to her about potential payment, she started smearing my name across all her accounts. Like, am I really a bad person for wanting to be paid for my time and effort?” She folded her arms in a huff; clearly this was a sensitive subject.

“When the Bachelor on her season didn’t want to immediately run off with her and have babies at first sight, she started cussing him out on camera,” said Tatami. “I am so glad I wasn’t on her season.”

And yet here they were, on Zookeeper’s season of Paradise.

f*ck my life, thought Dabi.

Zookeeper walked up to them, deceptively innocent. “Hi, everyone.”

“Hello!” said Fuwa. “It’s good to see you here! We should have a lot of fun together, right?”

“Right,” said Zookeeper.

Sato came down the steps to join them, beaming as bright as the ungodly sun. “Okay, everyone, let’s bring you into the resort! I know it seems a little redundant to have you enter so far from the actual meeting room, but this gave the most dramatic entrance and also gives you a much better first view from the shoreline. This way, please.”

He led them away up the beach, and after turning a bend they got their first in-person look at their lodging.

Bachelor In Paradise had no mansion but a small resort that played the same role. It was aggressively tropical: out of the greenery loomed its five-tiered bulk, all thatched roofs and wooden, open-air walkways with looming palm trees separating the sections, and each tier’s wall built of stacked rocks. It descended onto an expansive private beach with colorful furniture like daybeds, lounges, and umbrellas already spread out along the sand. They followed a flight of much wider steps to ascend the terraces, passing a bar, swimming pools, a restaurant, wicker cradle chairs, and empty hammocks.

The main building where meetings such as the rose ceremony would take place was called the Palapa. Technically almost all of the buildings were open-sided and thatched with palm leaves to match this description, but only this structure was graced with the technical term. It was near the middle of the resort sprawl, and inside was a vast number of couches, its main table fashioned from a big slab of driftwood with matching stools around the room to support large decorative lanterns. The participants were directed to sit down, split down the middle between men and women. When Dabi sat down on one of the end couches, it wobbled; Hawks had made to sit with him and ended up plunking ungracefully as a result. Dabi wrinkled his nose as feathers batted against his face.

“Whoops! Sorry, man,” said Hawks. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Dabi grumbled. He leaned over and shifted his weight more aggressively. Sure enough, one of the legs on this couch was too short. “I’ve got to find an old book or something, because this is going to drive me insane.”

Sato stood in the open area before them, and once he was sure everyone was settled and all the cameras were ready, he held out his arms and said, “Everyone, I’d like to give you a big, warm welcome to Bachelor in Paradise!”

Everyone in the palapa cheered; even the crew were doing quiet fist pumps behind their cameras.

“Now, you probably know this, but Paradise is about one thing only,” said Sato. “Love. That’s it. There’s no catch. There is no prize, no fortune at the end of this. Everyone is sincerely here to find love. In the next few weeks here you’re going to go on Bachelor-style dates. If you get a date card, you’ll have the opportunity to choose who you want to take with you on that date. We are also going to have rose ceremonies, but this is going to be a little different than what you’re used to. Men, this time you are the ones who’ll be handing out the roses. Ladies, if you’re not in a relationship going into that rose ceremony, and if you do not get a rose, you will be going home. Next time it'll be swapped, with the women having roses and the men at risk of leaving.”

So that was how it was going to work. Dabi had wondered why there was an uneven number of men versus women; it would drive desperation and conflict enough to make it entertaining by Paragon standards, no matter how starry-eyed everyone was right now.

“I hope you know that you could meet the love of your life here,” said Sato. “You could leave engaged. A year ago on this beach it happened: a couple fell in love and proposed here. It’s very real. It’s about that opportunity for you to find true love, and I am so excited to see what I hope will be the start of your future happiness.”

The others were really into this speech: a few women cooed, men were getting misty-eyed, and all of them were paying rapt attention.

“With that, I’m freeing you to explore your home here in Paradise,” said Sato. “Good luck, and I’ll see you at the co*cktail party.”

The contestants clapped and cheered as was expected and stood to move on, but before Sato was even fully out of the palapa, Amplifier said, “So, before anything starts, Dabi, can we steal you?”

“Uh, sure?” said Dabi.

Amplifier grinned and looped her arm around his. Stranger still, Mongoose copied on his other side. Stranger still, he was whisked away alongside every single woman in the group, leaving the men baffled in their wake. Dabi felt a lot less like a romantic option and more like a chihuahua nabbed by vultures. They herded him far out of earshot, up some stairs and around several corners to a break in the trees (oh hey, there was a hot tub here with a view of the ocean) and only then released him.

“Okay, so, real talk,” said Kashiko, “are you and Hawks dating?”

What?

“It wouldn’t make sense for you to be here if you were. Both of you seem to have too much integrity to try playing Paradise for the views,” Fuwa fretted.

“Considering Hawks’ popularity and what you’d gain by even existing near him in daily life, it doesn’t make sense for you to try playing this system anyway,” said Claire Voyance.

“And Hawks could pay for a romantic getaway for you two at any time, so that’s out of the question too,” said Dusty Ash.

“Or maybe he’s trying to boost your popularity so he can drop you without feeling guilty about it?” said Chikuchi, suspicious.

“But there’s no way you’re not together, right?” said Tatami.

They were all talking over each other, all laser-focused on him, and Dabi was having trouble following them all. He glanced from one to another, mortification rising and threatening to catch him on fire again.

“Stop!” he snapped, holding up a hand. “That’s what you want to know from me? Whether I’m with Hawks?”

They all nodded in unison.

“f*ck no, I’m not dating Hawks!” he snarled. “You may have noticed, but he is out of my league.”

The women glanced at each other, as if this weren’t really an answer.

“But… your matching necklaces?” said Mongoose.

“One of the sound workers thought she was funny,” Dabi grumbled.

“But… Team Hotwings?” said Enigma.

“Hawks gets clingy with the few friends he does have,” said Dabi.

“…Are you dumb?” said La Brava.

“f*ck you, next question,” said Dabi.

“That’s basically agreement,” La Brava muttered, but he ignored her.

“Are you going to try pursuing Hawks during Paradise?” asked Tatami.

“I think any one of you here has a better chance with him than I do,” said Dabi.

They glanced between each other again like this was dissatisfactory. Shouldn’t they be happy? Shouldn’t they be ready to move on already? What was up with this interrogation?

“So, do we have your permission?” said X. “For us to pursue Hawks?”

“This is Paradise, I didn’t think you needed an invitation,” Dabi scoffed.

“A yes or no would be nice,” said Claire Voyance.

“Yes! Yes, go do whatever it is you were already planning,” said Dabi, flipping his hand to shoo them away. “Stop being weird about it.”

“Your loss,” Kuin snickered.

The others started hurrying back, but Tatami lingered.

“Really?” she checked. “You’re sure?”

“I think I would know if Hawks was interested in me romantically,” said Dabi.

“Okay? I suppose you’d be the expert,” said Tatami. “I’m just, uh, going to go check out where we’re all staying. See you later.”

She ran after the others, and Dabi followed at a much more reasonable pace. By the time he arrived the palapa had emptied out. Dabi paused a moment to wonder where they’d all gone and jumped when Hawks popped out of the greenery nearby.

“The f*ck are you doing, hiding in the bushes?” he cried.

“Let’s just call it a premonition,” Hawks said brightly, stepping onto the walkway. “What did they all want to see you about? I didn’t even manage to get a feather after you before they were already coming back.”

“Nothing important,” said Dabi. “Were you seriously hiding from the girls?”

“Mock me if you want, but I recognize the look in a crazed fan’s eyes, and some of them had it!” Hawks shuddered. “Let’s move on. Everybody’s gone exploring, so if we hurry we can get first dibs on beds. This way!”

They backtracked a little toward the beach and then veered left off another path, which led to another large thatched-roof building where all the men would be sleeping. The bedrooms were reminiscent of The Bachelorette, because bunkbeds had made a reappearance. Four of them were lined in a row along the wall, but where The Bachelorette’s had been weirdly luxurious, these seemed to have been built from plywood and painted over in bright geometric designs. The bedding was also limited, just some white sheets and the thinnest of thin blankets. There was another expansive balcony with furniture overlooking the ocean, because of course there was.

The men’s luggage had been left just outside the door, so Dabi tossed his on the lower bunk furthest away from the balcony. There was a small open ‘closet’ paired with each bed, and Dabi shifted his second bag into the one that seemed aligned with his claim. Hawks proceeded to claim the bunk above his.

They emerged from the building again, intending on finding Gentle and maybe doing some consolidation of sanity, and ran straight into Sato.

“Oh! I thought you’d already gone,” said Hawks.

“Ah, that speech was really just for the cameras,” Sato laughed. “Usually I’ll be keeping my distance, but for the first day or so we’re trying to get some clips for the show’s opening and I’ll be one of those featured. We will of course be checking in with you all individually for your spotlights, but we need some filler content with all of you interacting on something together. We’re trying to determine the best way to do that now. If you would follow me to the beach?”

Everyone else had already congregated on the sand. Most of them had co*cktails. As soon as they spotted the newcomers, a few zeroed in on them.

“Hawks,” Chikuchi simpered, rushing to meet them, “where did you go? We should talk.”

“Or maybe he should talk with someone who has more in common with him,” said X, hip-checking her; Chikuchi almost spilled her drink and squawked in outrage, but X primped as if she didn’t notice at all. “What do you say, Hawks? I know all about celebrity status myself, so I would never embarrass you. Let’s grab a drink and get to know each other, one ten to another.”

“As if a Pro Hero cares about your sad little online engagement,” Kuin taunted. “Celebrity? Don’t make me laugh.”

“My fans love me,” X huffed.

“Yes, we know, you’re all about the buzz,” said Kuin.

A few of the others snickered, X whirled on her in outrage, and Hawks, now wearing his polished PR smile, said, “Hey now, I think we all love a good pun, but let’s keep it away from physical quirks, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s not all make fools of ourselves,” said Kashiko, adjusting her glasses so they caught the light like some conniving cartoon villain. “Not everyone is worthy of attention, here.”

Dabi started to get the feeling that he should’ve lied earlier. He’d thrown Hawks to the wolves.

“Now, now,” said Sato, clapping his hands. “Let’s not have anyone splitting off quite yet. We want to get these opening shots out of the way so you’ll be free until the rose ceremony, otherwise we risk interrupting you later. Let’s do the men first. Have you got any ideas?”

“WE CAN RUN ALONG THE SHORE!” bellowed Inasa.

“That could be a good visual,” said Shikkui.

“Unfortunately not all of us are suited to the activity,” said Tokuda. “Dabi, when we met on The Bachelorette, you weren’t comfortable running.”

“No sh*t,” said Dabi.

“And Nagamasa, I can’t imagine you would be comfortable either, moving around like that in this heat,” said Tokuda.

“It’s best if I take it slow,” Nagamasa agreed.

“It’s best for everyone’s physical wellbeing to choose another option,” said Tokuda.

“If we’re just avoiding running, we could try making a pyramid,” said Itejuro. “Dabi could go on top so nobody messes with his staples.”

“I’d go for that,” said Hawks.

“I’m only agreeing if Hawks is on the top,” said Dabi.

Gentle, Cider, and Dusty Ash immediately choked on their drinks.

“What, so he can say he’s best?” Tsutsutaka challenged with a sneer. “He’s the hero, isn’t he? He should be inside the pyramid and put what muscle he has to use.”

“It really doesn’t matter. I could totally hold up a row of people,” said Hawks.

“No, because if you’re not on top that means somebody’s stepping on your wings,” said Dabi.

“Your staples are more important than my wings. I could put my feathers on the side,” said Hawks.

“Absolutely not,” said Dabi.

After much squabbling they decided on synchronized diving. All the men lined up in a row along the side of the pool, clapped their hands over their heads, and one by one tipped sideways into the water. Dabi, who was even less interested in pools than before, was the last in line and held an umbrella in front of himself to keep from being splashed. Supposedly this was going to be funny.

“What about you?” asked Itejuro, flicking his hair back as he swam to the women on the opposite side. “What are the ladies going to do?”

The women glanced at each other, pondering, before Kuin threw up her hand with an evil grin. “Well, everybody loves a pillow fight!”

So a few of the daybeds were pushed together, all the women clambered in, and they bounced and whacked each other with throw pillows while wearing bikinis.

“This is Paradise,” Cider said dreamily.

“You’re all degenerates,” said Dabi.

On the daybeds, Chikuchi whacked X harder than she should’ve and said, “Oh, sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” X replied through gritted teeth, and hit her back even harder.

Chikuchi overbalanced and fell against Zookeeper, who swung her own pillow in a vicious circle.

“That’s my head!” cried La Brava.

“You’re going to ruin my hair!” said Kashiko.

“Come at me!” laughed Dusty Ash.

It was all taking a turn for the vicious.

“Okay, that covers the group shots!” called Sato. “We’re turning you loose, now!”

“Oh, sh*t,” muttered Hawks, as half of those vicious women immediately turned their heads to focus on him. “I’ll see you all later, okay? Okay.”

In a rush of feathers he was gone, presumably to hide out in the men’s bedroom. This didn’t dissuade X or Chikuchi, who ran after him as Kuin roared with laughter.

“It’s going to be like this for all of Paradise, isn’t it?” Nagamasa said dully. “All the girls will be after Hawks.”

“I knew he’d be popular, but I didn’t expect… that,” said Gentle.

“Me either,” said Dabi.

“I don’t think it’ll last long,” said Tokuda, who looked faintly amused. “Give it a little time for the women to get the excitement out of their system, and I’m sure they’ll realize Hawks isn’t a good match for them.”

“You think?” said Dabi.

“Oh, I’m very certain,” said Tokuda. “Let’s take this opportunity to divert the rest of them, shall we?” And, with the casual ease of a Paradise veteran, he approached the daybed and said, “Claire Voyance, would you take a walk with me? I’d love to get to know you.”

Claire Voyance’s gaze roved over the other men as if determining whether he was worth her time, but said, “Sure. Let’s get a drink before we go, though.”

They sauntered away to the bar, and that was the cue for everyone else to start mingling. Dabi stood there with his hands in his pockets, on the outskirts of the crowd and feeling pretty stupid about being there at all, and was surprised when one of the women beelined for him.

“Hey!” said Amplifier. “I can’t believe you haven’t been swarmed yet! I thought for sure once you said you were up for grabs that everybody would be taking a shot at you.”

Did she think he was gullible? Was this her attempt at cozying up to him to ultimately get at Hawks?

“Yeah, the staples tend to prevent that,” Dabi grumbled.

Amplifier gave a false laugh and leaned closer. “But you’re so cool! Surely you’re aware of your charm points? You were definitely my favorite man on The Bachelorette, last season.”

“Oh really.”

“Really! Especially on the singing date!” Her eyes seemed to sparkle, and here at least she seemed totally genuine in her enthusiasm. “Oh, I wish I could sing with Pop☆Step! It must’ve been so fun! And you were by far the best singer in that group, I could listen to you for hours! Do you have an album?”

“No?” said Dabi.

“Are you going to make one?” said Amplifier.

“…No?”

“You should! You’d be super popular. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel good. I’m breaking into music myself so I’ve been doing lots of research and experiments. Let me tell you, people with your kind of talent aren’t very common at all.”

“……Thanks?” said Dabi.

“Would you consider doing a collaboration with me?” she said, practically vibrating with glee. “I wrote this duet, and I swear your sound would be perfect for it!”

“Not if you’re still trying to break into that business,” said Dabi. “This face will sink all of your prospects.”

She laughed as if he’d suggested that All Might had a secret love child. “Oh, trust me. Trust me. That would not be an issue.”

“It’s happened before,” said Dabi.

She didn’t seem to believe him, but luckily backed off a bit. “If you’re not comfortable or you don’t want to do it right now, that’s okay! Maybe I’ll win your trust here in Paradise! But could we at least do karaoke together? With the two of us here I’m sure they’re going to bring something musical into this! It would be so fun!”

Dabi glanced around wildly for some escape from this weirdness, and was thankfully saved by the typhoon that was Inasa.

“KARAOKE? DID YOU SAY KARAOKE? I’M THE BEST AT KARAOKE!”

While Amplifier pivoted to face the newcomer, Dabi took this chance to escape. He retreated up the terraces. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just somewhere more peaceful. In another stroke of luck he stumbled across what seemed to be a lower-terrace level of the palapa, with a sign above the doorway reading “The Tree House.” Much like the formal palapa room there was comfortable furniture and tables, but it was a more enclosed, out of the way area where a group of the more levelheaded people had retreated.

“Oh, hey, Dabi!” said Tatami. “You can hang out with us if you want.”

“We’re being casual!” said Gentle, raising his co*cktail in greeting.

They, Kashiko, Enigma, and Nagamasa were all lounging on colorful couches. Dabi was happy to join them.

“We were just talking about what kind of dates we were hoping to go on if we got the date card later,” said Tatami. “I was saying that I want to go diving! I heard you can go swimming with whale sharks, here. It’s probably not going to happen since the Paradise budget is smaller than the main series, but maybe I’ll get to go snorkeling? That would still be cool!”

“I’ve heard that a lot of dates in Paradise include horse riding. I’ve never even seen a horse in person, so I think I’d enjoy that,” said Gentle.

“I might be boring, but I’d be happy with dinner and some dancing,” said Nagamasa. “I’d rather focus on the person at hand than the activity we’re doing, at least this early on.”

“What about you, Enigma?” said Tatami.

Enigma was leaned against the couch arm with her eyes closed. She didn’t respond.

“Enigma?”

Enigma jolted upright with a snort. “Uh… Huh?”

“Your ideal date?” said Tatami.

Enigma still hadn’t opened her eyes. “Uh… Come back to me?”

“How about you then, Dabi?” said Tatami.

“Something without a lot of movement. Yoga is a no-go,” said Dabi.

“Definitely valid, but that’s something you wouldn’t want. What would you like to do?” said Tatami.

Dabi hesitated. He’d never been on a real date in his life and nothing remotely Paradise-ish appealed to him. He’d have to bluff his way out of this.

“I think I’d like to be surprised,” he said. “But I suppose I’d be the opposite of Nagamasa. It would be real f*cking awkward if there was nothing in common with a date. If we’re doing an activity or have some kind of clear prompt, we at least have something to talk about.”

“Yes, oh my god, awkward silences are the worst!” said Tatami. “The last date I went on before they invited me here to Paradise, I literally started to think my date couldn’t speak. I was about to switch over to sign language, but then he asked for the bill… Needless to say, I was pretty single when Paragon contacted me.”

“How horrible!” said Gentle. “My dates haven’t exactly gone well, but I’ve never run into anything that rude!”

“Isn’t it normal?” said Kashiko. “Most of my dates don’t seem to talk.”

“At all?” said Gentle.

“At all,” she confirmed. “I hear that’s pretty common, though. Men get uncomfortable around strong women.”

Dabi and Gentle exchanged a worried look, both clearly thinking the same thing: not THAT uncomfortable. Maybe that “misses emotional cues” thing Tatami had mentioned about her was a much bigger issue. sh*t, Tatami was even grimacing right now as if that was a big red flag.

“So Tatami, Paragon contacted you instead of the other way around?” said Dabi, to change the subject.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, they did,” said Tatami. “I know that at least for the first week they like to load in a lot of people from the most recent Bachelor and Bachelorette seasons so they’re fresh in mind for the audience, and I know I made, uh, an impression, but I didn’t really think I’d be important enough to be picked. There were so many other beautiful women on my season, you know?”

“I didn’t think I was very important on Aiko’s season either, but Paragon was very understanding when I asked them for the opportunity here,” said Gentle.

“Really? You can request to come instead of waiting on an invite?” said Tatami.

“Sure. It worked for me and Hawks, too,” said Dabi.

“Huh,” said Tatami. “I suppose it makes sense that most people don’t know about it, otherwise Paradise would be overrun…”

They chatted some more, about easy topics surrounding the production and their experiences with Bachelor Nation. This would surely be too boringly meta for the TV audience to care (even Enigma had dozed off again), so some of the cameras strayed away and when other competitors passed by they didn’t bother to linger. A nice bubble of peace.

Tatami was just talking about interacting with fans when Dabi felt something near his left hand. One of Hawks’ feathers had come scouting; it floated low over the couch cushion before ghosting over his knuckles. Dabi laid his other hand over it to keep it from the others’ view, but said, “Hey, you’re not going to get all weird if Hawks joins us, are you?”

“Not at all,” said Nagamasa.

“Of course not! I feel bad that he needed to hide in the first place,” said Gentle.

“Don’t tell him this, but he’s not my type,” Tatami said with a wince.

Dabi lightly tapped the feather, as if to say, you heard them, come out and join us. The feather wiggled in acknowledgement but otherwise stayed put.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your type?” asked Nagamasa.

Tatami went pink. “Oh, well, I’m not super dedicated to a type…”

“But if you could pick someone on it?”

She put a hand to her face, embarrassed. “Well… Dark hair. Strong personality. Intelligence.”

“I like a man with muscles,” said Kashiko. “It’s hot here in Paradise so the men will have to take off their shirts eventually, and then I can judge who’s best. Inasa’s kind of annoying, but he’s jacked. I might just rip his shirt off now.”

“Wow,” said Dabi, unsure how else to react to that.

“I’d offer to take mine off now, but I’m afraid my muscle tone isn’t so easy to see through my quirk,” said Nagamasa.

“That’s why you’re at the bottom of my list,” said Kashiko.

Ouch. Nagamasa’s expression couldn’t be seen under all the fur, but Dabi leaned toward him anyway and whispered, “I think this is a blessing in disguise. Let idiots stay idiotic and out of your business.”

“I have the feeling that you’re right,” Nagamasa replied.

“Shikkui’s not my type either,” Kashiko was saying, oblivious to the side conversation. “Dabi, sorry, but you’re a twig. And Hawks is hot, don’t get me wrong, but his wings get in the way.”

“You know, you’re the first person I’ve met who thought the wings detracted from me,” Hawks laughed, stepping into the little area. “Do you all mind if I—”

“No, no, sit down!” said Gentle. “You came to Paradise to enjoy it, not stay cooped up out of sight.”

Beaming, Hawks sat down next to Dabi.

“So, any news from the others?” asked Dabi.

“Plenty,” said Hawks, not even bothering to pretend he hadn’t been snooping. “Most of the women are focusing on Shikkui right now, and most of the men are focusing on Fuwa.”

“Called it,” Tatami muttered.

“Inasa’s loud, no surprise; Kuin took Tsutsutaka into the water to make out; Chikuchi’s complaining about guys not paying attention to her even though Itejuro is actively trying to start a conversation with her; Mongoose and La Brava are chasing Tokuda after he and Claire Voyance went separate ways, and everyone else is starting the process of getting hammered at the bar.”

“Damn,” said Tatami. “Where’s Zookeeper?”

“She’s one of them at the bar, so I’d steer clear until she’s gone.” Hawks shuddered. “She’s really intensely watching Shikkui. I’d steer clear of him too, honestly. That just feels like impending drama.”

“You say that as if this entire show isn’t impending drama,” said Dabi.

“And yet you signed up for it,” said Hawks.

“These things are unfortunately not mutually exclusive,” Dabi grumbled.

“Hey Hawks, I’m not sure if you heard us earlier, but there’s something I’ve wondered about you,” Tatami said nervously.

Two options immediately came to mind, and Dabi hated both of them. 1) She might be asking Hawks for his type even though she’d already said she didn’t find him attractive, or 2) by some terrible consequence of heatstroke she’d decided Dabi aligned with her vague ‘type’ enough to ask the other half of Team Hotwings if they were really a thing.

Dabi tried to come up with some defense on both fronts that wasn’t just he’s single, but thankfully didn’t have to.

“I wondered how your fan interactions changed after you went on The Bachelorette,” said Tatami. “You definitely got a lot of new fans through that, but do they act differently than the ones you had before?”

“They do, but not toward me, if that makes sense?” said Hawks. “My hero fans tend to be all me, all the time. My Bachelor Nation fans seem a lot more interested in my relationships with other people instead of just me in a vacuum. I kind of like it. It makes me feel more like a person being observed instead of a commodity.”

“That hasn’t caused any issues for you, has it?” said Gentle. “I’ve seen some of those fake scandals people write for attention… I hope you haven’t been inconvenienced by anything like that.”

“Only as much as other heroes. When you hit a certain level of popularity you have to start taking wild rumors like a badge of honor… and make sure your legal team is always up to date, I suppose,” said Hawks. “The only frustrating thing—and I mean frustrating really lightly—about the new fans is when the artists tag me in work where they’ve drawn me and Dabi together.”

Really? Dabi felt a little stab of hurt, but didn’t get long to linger on that because Hawks turned to him and said, “Dabi, can I touch your face?”

“What?” said Dabi, very understandably bewildered.

“I need to prove a point,” said Hawks.

What kind of point required Dabi’s face, he had no idea, but he did trust Hawks at this point.

“So long as you don’t rip out any staples, sure.”

“Cool,” said Hawks.

He cupped Dabi’s face in his hands. It was an awkward cradling of his jaw, wrists touching below Dabi’s chin and fingers wrapping up like the strap on a helmet. His hands were warm and calloused, and when he turned to look back at the others, his thumb brushed light over Dabi’s cheekbone. Embarrassment and neediness hit Dabi with all the force of a physical blow. People did not touch his face like this. People were scared off by the scars and the staples before they got within a few feet of him. Even the League hesitated before touching his scars, but here Hawks was acting like nothing was wrong. Holding him gently. Dabi didn’t want him to let go, and that was so pathetic. He could feel the healthy skin of his face heating up in embarrassment. There was no way a camera could miss it. But if he protested, Hawks would let go. It was really a lose-lose situation.

“See?” said Hawks, oblivious to Dabi’s internal distress.

“Oh,” said Tatami, leaning forward in genuine interest. “You’re right! I do see it!”

“See what?” Dabi mumbled.

“Your face shape,” said Hawks. He let go and Dabi wanted to die.

“Your fanartists tend to get it wrong,” Tatami giggled.

“My what?” said Dabi.

“They always draw you with this square jaw,” Hawks complained. “I’m not going to lie, it looks really good in the art, but it would look so much better if they were actually going with the reality!”

“Which is?”

“Your face is round and cute.”

Dabi choked.

“It’s a good thing!” Hawks rushed to say. “I swear, it is! People find that really hot! I think the problem is that when people look at you head on in pictures, the shadow under your jaw kind of gets distorted with the darkness of your scars? That and the staples throw off the actual shape, kind of like makeup contouring.”

“Uh-huh,” Dabi said blankly.

“Having fanartists is quite the achievement! They do tend to get my beard wrong too, though,” said Gentle, rubbing at his chin.

“I wish I had fanartists. I’m only in memes,” Tatami said wistfully.

“You have memes?” said Kashiko.

Tatami blushed again. “I mean, it would be more difficult for me not to have memes at this point…”

“How much does anyone want to bet Enigma right now is going to be turned into a meme?” said Nagamasa.

They all looked at Enigma, who was beginning to snore.

“Wow, she really must’ve been too nervous to sleep last night,” said Hawks.

The conversation rolled on, but Dabi’s brain was tuned out. He gingerly touched his face where Hawks’ hands had been, and felt like a massive lovesick idiot. Paradise was going to be hell, wasn’t it?

Eventually the sun began its descent and everyone’s hunger made itself known, so they ventured out of the tree house in search of food. They kept away from the beach, following a winding path into the trees, and found a large pool in a weird squiggly shape, with more thatched-roof buildings around it. They crossed the bridge over the pool (yes it was big enough to have a bridge), past some garishly bright patio furniture, and into the largest building, which may still have been open to the air but did have picnic tables. Most of the other contestants were seated at those tables and eating.

There was a big counter reminiscent of a bar with a staff in uniform working behind it. This seemed to be the source of the food.

“Uh… do you have soba?” said Dabi.

He barely had time to blink before a bowl of soba was placed before him, alongside…

“Is that a date card?” said Gentle.

“Date card?” said Amplifier, head whipping up to look at him.

“Date card?” cried everyone else. “Read it! Read it!”

“At least let me sit down, damn,” Dabi grumbled. He set his bowl on one of the end tables (unfortunately very close to Zookeeper) and tore open the offending envelope. “Fuwa.”

Fuwa bit her lip and all the other women squealed in excitement.

“Look for a man to accompany you on a date tonight. Look before you leap,” Dabi read aloud, and handed her the card.

“The first date in Paradise, that’s so exciting!” said Mongoose. “Who are you going to take?”

“Well,” Fuwa said shyly, “I wondered if… Shikkui, could we talk?”

Shikkui didn’t have a very expressive face, but he jumped out of his seat eagerly. “I’d love to.”

The two of them stepped away, to mixed amusem*nt and jealousy. Really that was only to be expected, when it involved the most popular woman and second most popular man on the beach.

“I wish I got the date,” Amplifier sighed.

“She could’ve asked me,” Tsutsutaka grumped.

“They’re cute together,” Tatami said wistfully.

Meanwhile Zookeeper stabbed her food with her chopsticks and ground them down against the plate with such force it was like she was trying to impale the table. Her head stayed bowed over it, her voice so quiet it seemed only Dabi noticed: “He can’t even be loyal for twenty-four hours. I’ll never talk to him again. Everyone knows he’s into me. I’m the only normal person beyond him. She’s a slu*t. She’s not even pretty.”

“What the f*ck,” Dabi whispered, and scooted his chair further away from hers.

Chikuchi was no better. She was crying.

“Guys are always into her type!” she sniffled. “I broke the ice with the hottest guy on the beach in the most natural way, and now she’s stealing him from me!”

“I thought you were supposed to be the hottest guy on the beach,” Dabi muttered to Hawks.

“I think your fire quirk qualifies you as hottest, but I get what you mean,” said Hawks, digging into his own food.

“It’s only the first day, why is she crying…”

“Well if we’re already stealing men, I’m not falling behind! Hey, Cider!” Kuin planted a hand on Chikuchi’s head and shoved it down to lean over her with a vicious grin. “Come down to the beach with me!”

Cider gave a matching grin, and the two of them were off.

“Bitch!” Chikuchi screamed after them, trying to salvage her pigtails. “You assholes deserve each other!”

“He better not put the moves on her,” Tsutsutaka grumbled.

Clearly it was the other way around, but Dabi was going to keep his mouth shut. Down in the water, Kuin and Cider clung to each other like octopuses. How could making out like that be pleasant when they were surely gargling saltwater with each incoming wave? Also why were her legs around his waist? Why were they touching each other like that? Dabi turned away before he could see anything mentally scarring and said, “The crew has lifeguards, right?”

“Absolutely,” said Hawks, rooting through his dish for more pieces of chicken. “I did a survey. Lifeguards, rescue boats, security, they’ve got everything. They’re just keeping it all out of the shots. Why?”

“Because I think those two are going to trip and die in the undertow,” said Dabi. “Why the f*ck are they out that far in the water?”

Hawks wiggled his eyebrows. “Probably because the waves drown out any other sound on the microphones.”

“On the first night, though?”

“Hey, Hawks?” Dusty Ash had come alongside them. “Do you want to have a talk down by the beach?”

“Oh! Uh...” Hawks looked down at his bowl. He was always pretty fast at eating so there wasn’t much left to make an excuse with. He must’ve decided she was one of the less crazy ones, though, because he forced a smile and said, “Sure. See you later, Dabi.”

“Yeah,” said Dabi, pretending to be absorbed with his own food.

He watched from the corner of his eye as the pair of them left down the path. Only once they were out of sight did he cover his face and fight the urge to groan.

I’m a giant, stupid masoch*st.

He’d known the whole time that Paradise was going to be torture in all forms, but he’d willfully ignored what it would do to his stupid heart. Yeah, when Hawks had kissed Aiko that time after he’d figured out his feelings on The Bachelorette it had been a sucker punch to his ego. And of course Hawks was going to be pursued here, and would kiss other people here, and might find that whirlwind romance he’d been talking about here. Dabi had told himself over and over that this was fine; he was an idiot for crushing on Hawks in the first place and there wasn’t a chance in hell that his feelings would ever be reciprocated, so it was best to try being supportive and crush every scrap of emotion down the way he had as a teenager. Unfortunately that handy little box of emotions didn’t seem to want to close anymore.

What if he ends up liking her? said a little voice that sounded way too similar to his antsy pre-teen interviews. What if he kisses her on the beach right now? What if he leaves me like everyone else?

That was more than enough introspection, thank you very much.

Dabi forced himself to concentrate on the contestants nearby. No matter what Hawks ended up doing, Dabi had a mission. He had to stay here as long as possible to save his own skin, and that meant teaming up with someone for a rose. Who here was sane and tolerable enough to spend multiple weeks with?

His eyes settled on La Brava.

Yes, Aiko had talked about her: nice, intelligent, and based on what he’d observed so far she didn’t take sh*t from people. That should be a good person to hang out with. Dabi put away his bowl and made toward her, but five feet away she snapped, “Stop.”

Dabi faltered.

La Brava looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m not Aiko.”

“Obviously?” said Dabi.

Even though this was an agreement it was a major mistake; La Brava suddenly radiated malice.

“I don’t need you,” she spat. “Don’t think you can come here and set yourself up as some ‘prince’ or voice of reason to keep me from making bad decisions. I’m not an idiot with her head in the clouds, so don’t bother.”

She slammed her cup down on the table and stormed away.

“I DO NOT THINK THAT WENT WELL,” said Inasa.

“Yeah, no sh*t, Sherlock,” said Dabi.

“Maybe… maybe try someone else,” said Nagamasa.

Obviously!

Rattled and confused, Dabi headed down toward the beach. Tatami, Mongoose, and Claire Voyance had gone this way too, so maybe one of them… Halfway down the stairs he did run into a sane woman, but not one he’d expected.

“Oh, Dabi!” said Fuwa. She looked a little stressed. “Sorry, I didn’t see you behind all the ferns… Are you doing okay?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” said Dabi. “What, did Shikkui turn you down?”

“No, he didn’t, but—” Her eyes widened and she leaned to look around him. “Zookeeper, there you are!”

Zookeeper was right behind him, uncomfortably close, and he hadn’t even noticed. She was pretty much breathing on him, and Dabi instinctively recoiled. What the f*ck?

“I’m so sorry, I was just talking with some of the other girls and they said you were interested in Shikkui,” said Fuwa. “I don’t know Shikkui well enough to really be attached, and I never meant to step on your toes. I wanted to offer the date card to you, so you and Skikkui can go together instead.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” said Dabi.

Zookeeper’s eyes flicked from Fuwa, to the date card in her hands, to Dabi, and finally to the cameras that had followed them.

“No,” she said.

“Really, I don’t mind! I don’t want to be starting any trouble with anyone so early,” said Fuwa.

“No,” Zookeeper said again.

Fuwa held the card closer to her chest, face a mixture of relief and trepidation. “Either way, I’m not comfortable taking Shikkui anymore. If… If you’re really sure about not taking the card, I’ll ask Nagamasa to go with me instead.”

“That would be nice,” said Zookeeper.

“Okay, I’ll ask him right now! Ah, but I should tell Shikkui first so there’s no misunderstandings—”

“I’ll tell Shikkui,” said Zookeeper.

“That sounds good! You’ll get the chance to talk to him right away, then. Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll see you later!”

Fuwa skipped up the steps. Zookeeper’s head turned mechanically to follow her progress, face still inscrutable as she whispered under her breath, “Dumb bitch doesn’t even know what she’s giving up.”

Okay, yeah, Dabi wanted nothing to do with this.

He hurried after Fuwa and caught up near the pool where the others were still out of earshot.

“You really, really didn’t have to do that,” he said.

“It’s true though, I don’t want to start drama,” said Fuwa.

“You’re the one who got the date card, and nobody’s in a relationship yet. It’s not selfish to go with someone you’re attracted to.”

“My reasons for avoiding it are selfish, too,” Fuwa said ruefully. “They may not say it to my face, but I know the other women don’t like me. Paradise is going to be pretty bad if I give them reasons to hate me more right from the start. I shouldn’t have asked him in the first place.”

“That’s bullsh*t,” said Dabi. It was more bitter than he’d intended, but just because he didn’t get to ask out his dumb crush didn’t mean anyone else should have to suffer.

“It’s okay,” she chuckled. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know him very well. I’ll just look for someone else that the other women aren’t so interested in, and it won’t be a big deal. Thanks for worrying, though.”

She beelined for the tables and leaned in to talk to Nagamasa. Dabi couldn’t hear them at this distance, but it was clear that Nagamasa perked up; for him this was probably a windfall. Dabi grumbled to himself and turned around, only to stop short. There was a crab on the ground in front of him.

“The f*ck are you looking at?” he growled at it.

The crab looked up at him, snipped its pincers, and sidestepped away into the bushes.

The rest of the night didn’t go any better. Dabi hovered at the periphery of groups and conversations, trying to get a feel for who might be pairing up or allying with each other, but it was a lost cause. Everyone would be having seemingly-meaningful conversations, and then two seconds later go and get handsy with someone else. It was maddening. At least in The Bachelorette he only had to keep track of wherever Aiko was moving, but here he felt like he was stuck on a Rubik’s cube that refused to stop turning. Eventually, annoyed and tired, he was the first who retreated to bed.

It turned out that the limited bedding and thin bedframes were a strategic move: everything was light in a way that strove to keep them cool, which Dabi appreciated as he pulled the sheets over himself. His spot was strategic for managing staples and staying away from the balcony’s light, but it also made him very visible to anyone in the doorway. He intended to cover up as much as possible. The thinness of the bedding meant it didn’t muffle any noise, so when other people laughed too loudly near the bar or stumbled in at weird hours, he heard all of it.

“Sorry,” Hawks whispered to him at what must’ve been past midnight, as he and two other men entered the room.

“Just hurry it up, I want to sleep,” Dabi grumbled back, unable to see him because he’d pulled the sheet completely over himself like a burial shroud.

Unfortunately that covering, light as it was, acted like the lid on a boiling pot, because the relative coolness of the night was completely gone by day two.

Dabi’s real, lingering impression of Paradise was this: it was HOT.

The sun beat down on them like a sweltering spotlight. The trees and palapa roofs were their only shade, which did little to help when every other surface—sand, pavement, cushions, everything—absorbed heat to the point it felt like sitting on a stove. Contrary to his father’s belief Dabi did have some measure of heat resistance, but his true immunity was to cold. Dabi suffered.

Why couldn’t it have been Bachelor in the Arctic, he thought despairingly.

The other competitors had their own ways of combating the heat. Most obviously was the lighter, skimpier clothing; bikinis and swimming trunks were not only easier for competitors to breathe in, but also showed a lot of skin to tantalize other competitors, cameras, and the audience. Dabi didn’t have that option. He’d ignored most advice, but one fact stuck in his brain, and it was that sand gets everywhere. Sand and staples would be the absolute worst combination imaginable. He had a terrible image in his head of a stray wind gust kicking up a sandstorm and reducing him to further misery. Keep covered. Keep protected. This would also hopefully reduce sunburns. And attention. The idea of flaunting his scarred body was almost as bad as the copious amounts of fish on the menu.

The other clear option for coolness was swimming. This was equally horrible. He was just as suspicious of pool chlorine as he’d been at The Bachelorette mansion. As for the beach, how many fish had died and defecated in the ocean? Horrible.

Dabi staked out a shady corner near the pool and resolved to melt there as subtly as possible. What he did have on his side was Hawks and seemingly half the crew determined to keep him hydrated. Air conditioning was completely absent, electric fans banned, but Misty and Prey each located uchiwa fans for him. One was innocently patterned with a convenience store promotion. The other, though… it was only desperation that made him accept that one. It bore a picture of Pro Hero Midnight blowing a kiss on one side, with “R-rated hero! You make the sad*st in me ache for a chance to play!” on the other. He desperately ignored the pattern and clutched a fan in each hand in a desperate attempt to cool himself down. Misty hovered close with specialized sunscreen, seemingly every member of the crew carried several bottles of water, and Hawks fluttered back and forth from the refreshment hut with chilled barley tea because, “this one’s the most refreshing, don’t you think? Gentle has a bunch of other options but we haven’t got those ready yet—"

It was simultaneously the most suffocating and relieving experience of his life.

He was still hot and grumpy about it though.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” asked Sato, who was floating in the pool in a suit, suspended in the water by a large flamingo-shaped tube (this was apparently going to be his introduction shot in the opening). “We’re ecstatic to have you here, but if it’s truly uncomfortable—"

“I’m no quitter,” Dabi grumbled, because he wasn’t. f*ck the sun. He wouldn’t be defeated so easily. “I can do this.”

“But you don’t have to—”

“I will.”

Hawks shook his head in mixed amusem*nt and despair, and used a feather to reroute a crab away from their drinks. “It’s not worth fighting him, Sato. I’ve never met anyone else near this stubborn.”

“I’ll at least make it further than Nagamasa,” said Dabi.

Nagamasa happened to be languishing in the shade on the opposite side of the pool, getting much of the same treatment Dabi was. The poor man had no visible skin to be fanning, though, so he’d resorted to sticking ice cubes into his hair and letting one of the producers hold a water hose over his head.

“Is he even going to make it to his date today?” said Hawks.

Dabi hoped he would. Nagamasa seemed like a decent person, and it would suck if Fuwa had to go looking for a third option for her date. He rolled his head to look in the direction Misty had gone; Misty and Joules were gearing up with heavy-duty water guns, and if he saw correctly Watts seemed to have a bandolier of water balloons. Misty adjusted the pump on her water gun—ka-chack—and gave him a stoic nod like some action movie hero.

“I think he’s going to make it,” said Dabi, and let his head thunk back down against the cushion.

“I sure hope— Ow!” Hawks jolted, wings puffing up in surprise. That stray feather zoomed back up in front of his face, and there just so happened to be a crab dangling from it. It clicked its free pincer menacingly. “I’m starting to understand your aversion to seafood.”

“Can you hold it there?” said Prey, moving in with weird little sparkles in his eyes.

“Uh, sure?”

“Thank you. We like the animal shots.”

“Exactly how many crabs are there around here?” said Dabi.

“Unknowable,” said Prey, up close and adjusting his camera lens; the crab brandished its pincer at the glass now.

“Ah, it looks like the others are coming back up. I should get out of the way,” said Sato.

He started to paddle. Very ineffectively. His flamingo float seemed more interested in listing to the left than drifting toward the pool steps.

“Let me get that for you,” said Hawks, and a few more feathers flew to help him. Sato and his float were picked up and deposited on the poolside in a fraction of a second.

“Goodness, I wish I had a quirk that efficient to help with my granddaughter,” Sato laughed as he retreated. “Take care, all of you! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dabi waved, but it was barely noticeable with the fan.

True to Sato’s word, a group of other competitors were coming up from the beach. At the forefront came Fuwa, who hurried over to Nagamasa.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked. “Really, it’s okay if you’re not. I don’t want to put your health at risk.”

“I’ve talked it over with the producers, so I think I’ll be fine,” Nagamasa replied. “I’m sorry that I’ve limited our date options like this.”

Fuwa smiled. “As long as we get to spend some time together, I don’t care what we end up doing.”

“You say that, but I still feel guilty. I give you permission to throw a water balloon in my face at any time.”

Fuwa laughed and held out her hands to help him up. They went toward the exit, calling over their shoulders, “See you later!”

“Have fun!” called Tatami.

“Don’t overheat!” said Mongoose.

They all pretended cheer until the pair was out of sight, and then jealousy fell over them like a physical curtain.

“I hope he crashes and burns,” Cider grumbled.

“He didn’t deserve to go. I’d have been a much better date,” said Tsutsutaka.

“I wish Fuwa asked me,” said Itejuro.

The women were no better.

“I should’ve known Fuwa would get the first date. She’s always been everyone’s favorite,” said Claire Voyance.

“I guess she came for Bachelor in Hair-adise,” Amplifier giggled.

“Do you think he’ll shed? Gross,” Kuin said with a smirk.

The negativity was stopped in its tracks when Tokuda said loudly, “I hope they have a wonderful time. It would be a great way to kick off Paradise if the first date goes well. I know I’ll have more confidence if they come back smiling.”

This had about the same effect as a parent saying I heard that. The others shuffled guiltily before breaking into smaller groups again. Dabi eyed them, trying to see if any of the options stuck out to him. The only one who did stand out to him was currently trying to pry a crab off his wing so this was a lost cause, but surely someone here wouldn’t be hell to deal with?

They were on day two (almost halfway through the first episode, how), and while the participants hadn’t let off all their steam, they were definitely less frantic looking than yesterday. Dabi had mentally sorted them all into the categories of “Assholes,” “Not Assholes,” and “Not Available.” The “Not Assholes” list was painfully short. That Bachelor in Hair-adise quip had knocked Amplifier off that list, leaving Enigma, Tatami, and Mongoose.

Maybe I should go with Enigma, he pondered, watching as she started nodding off (again) in the middle of Inasa’s passionate recounting of a rock-paper-scissors game. She was never awake long enough to start any kind of nonsense, and would likely not care that Dabi wasn’t putting much into this. Yeah. Yeah, he was going to go after her.

Ah, but the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

Dabi had only just straightened up to get off his cushions when a shrill squeal made him wince.

“Date card!”

Everyone stood to attention as Dusty Ash strode toward them from the food hut, bearing aloft another one of the damnable date cards.

“Kashiko!” she called. “This one’s for you! Today your love story begins.”

The girls all twittered. Kashiko accepted the card with the nonchalance of someone taking a file at an office, but her smile was wide.

“I think I need to talk to a few people before I choose a date,” she said. “How about Tatami, X, Enigma…” Ah, she needed some girl talk. Logical. Toga always went to Magne to form a game plan for her crushes, this should be no different. “…and Dabi.”

“What?” said Dabi.

“I want to talk to you.” Kashiko held the card in front of her face like a fan, her eyes somehow mocking. “I trust you to give me insight.”

Dabi had no idea why he was being singled out here as the only man, but Enigma was sleepwalking her way after Kashiko and he may as well take the opportunity. He followed the women down to the beach and off along the wall, finally coming to a stop between daybeds.

“What do you need? Can we help somehow?” asked Tatami.

“Beyond a different dress for your date, of course. This one’s hideous,” said X.

“This one is functional,” said Kashiko, unbothered. “Now, I’ve brought you all down here because the four of you have a wide range of knowledge and firm opinions, all of which I intend to take into account.”

“You want feedback?” said Tatami, tilting her head. “Like, in who’s a good person to ask out, or—”

“I’m going to ask Hawks.”

Dabi froze for a moment, but forced himself to keep fanning. He had a poker face. He had a great poker face. “I thought you said he wasn’t your type. Wings in the way, or something.”

“I never said he wasn’t my type, even if his feathers do cover up so much,” said Kashiko. “He went into the water this morning and came out shirtless. He’s so hot, it feels like my eyes were made specifically to look at him.”

“Obviously!” said X, annoyed but unable to argue Hawks’ attractiveness. “It’s because he was wet, isn’t it? It just enhanced the hotness.”

“Such hotness,” said Kashiko.

“True hotness,” said Enigma, not opening her eyes.

Tatami glanced between them and Dabi, looking nervous. “But— Is that really—”

“Dabi, you already gave us permission to go after Hawks, didn’t you?” said Kashiko.

“…Yes,” said Dabi.

“Then it’s not a bad idea at all,” said Kashiko. “Now it’s just about how to ask him. Dabi, you know him best. How do I do it?”

Oh, please, as if Dabi had any inkling of how to do that.

“…You ask?”

Kashiko raised a brow, unimpressed. “Obviously? How?”

“In a way he can’t misunderstand?” said Dabi.

“Men.” Kashiko rolled her eyes and turned to X. “What do you think?”

“A hero and a celebrity doesn’t have time to waste beating around the bush. I doubt he’ll have time for you either,” said X. “Just get to the point.”

“Alright,” said Kashiko. “So I’ll say, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me—”

“No,” said X. “Too shy.”

“Okay. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me—”

“Ugh, no, now you’re too pushy.”

They kept repeating the same line between them, over and over, and for the life of him Dabi couldn’t discern any difference in the cadence that X was so set on. They somehow came to an agreement about it and Kashiko looked at the others.

“What do you think?”

“I understand none of this,” said Dabi.

“It’s great!” said Tatami, with the air of someone lying through her teeth. “It gets your point across without being too abrupt about it! Great lead in! Right, Enigma?”

When no answer came Tatami elbowed Enigma, who spluttered her way back to consciousness. “What? Oh. Yeah.”

“Go for it,” said Tatami.

“I will,” said Kashiko, and swept back up the stairs with X in hot, nitpicky pursuit.

“Did you notice any difference in her practice lines?” asked Dabi, wondering if this was one of those “girl” things or if he was just going insane.

“None,” Tatami said glumly.

Enigma cracked an eye open to give them an unimpressed look. “You seriously didn’t? Even I noticed.”

Neither of them knew how to respond, which was just as well, because Enigma decided now was the perfect time to flop onto a daybed, assume a mummy pose, and start snoring. Tatami held her head in her hand and sighed, “I’m really not cut out for this…”

Dabi’s brain was doing some rapid rearranging. Enigma was now potentially too unknowable and judgmental to be safe, but Tatami? She’d done her research, she wasn’t an asshole, she was sane—

“Why are you even here?” asked Dabi. Tatami looked at him with wide eyes and he realized how that had come out. “f*ck. I mean. What’s interesting about Paradise?”

“I want to fall in love? Duh?” said Tatami.

“Yeah, but why here?” said Dabi. “Why drama central? I feel like life would be much easier for you if you did this in the real world.”

Tatami pursed her lips and looked out contemplatively at the ocean. “Maybe, but… It’s nice to have rules.”

“Rules,” Dabi echoed skeptically.

“Yeah. Specific guidelines,” said Tatami. “Everyone here in Paradise has the same goal in mind. Out there, in the real world?” She shrugged. “You never really know what anyone wants, or how it could possibly turn out. So yeah, this high speed, high intensity party on the beach is prime for disasters, but at least they’re predictable ones. You can figure out how to work with them. The real world doesn’t have that kind of roadmap. And if something does go wrong, there’s accountability. It’s less likely for someone to treat you horribly when they know they have half the country watching and ready to heckle them as soon as they’re off the set. Even I’m held accountable for what I’ve done. So I suppose… it’s safe.”

“Yeah, I guess the background checks weed out all of the axe murderers before they get to the dates,” Dabi mused.

Tatami gave an ungraceful snort. “No shade, but you were only a step above axe murderers with Muscular and Geten on your season.”

“Yeah, well, I could’ve toasted them.”

“For sure.”

Yeah, Dabi could respect Tatami. They kept chatting on their way up the stairs, and when Gentle drew Dabi aside, she followed right along.

“Were you aware?” asked Gentle, glancing nervously over their shoulders at the place Kashiko was asking Hawks out. “That she— That she was going to ask Hawks?”

“Yeah? She wanted input,” said Dabi.

“And you gave it?” Gentle wheezed.

Tatami patted Gentle’s back with a commiserating nod. “Yeah, I know, doesn’t make sense…”

Dabi rolled his eyes at their weird dramatics. Meanwhile on the other side of the pool, Kashiko had made her pitch. Hawks was silent for a moment. He glanced at Dabi.

“Damn, what’s with that face?” Dabi muttered.

“He looks like he’d rather fly into another high-rise than go on that date,” said Gentle.

But Hawks schooled his expression, turned his blinding PR smile on Kashiko and said, “Sure. The date’s scheduled to take place tomorrow, right? That gives us time to prepare, I guess.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” La Brava said flatly.

The other women seethed with jealousy and the men grumbled about being overlooked again. Kashiko seemed to delight in the sour spotlight.

“I’ll get us some drinks, and we can do all the preparing you want,” she said, and set off for the bar.

Hawks kept his smile up until she’d vanished from sight, and in a split second he was over the pool and standing with Dabi’s group, radiating pleasantness so strong that no one was fooled.

“I think that went well,” he said.

“Kashiko certainly thinks so,” said Gentle. “Are you sure you want to go on that date?”

The pleasantness ticked up a notch and Dabi held up one of his fans like he was shielding himself from the sun.

“Well, that’s why we’re here, right? Dates. You, uh, don’t think she’s going to hang around me all day today, do you? I mean, the date’s tomorrow, not tonight, so—”

“You’re out of luck. She’s called dibs,” said Tatami. “She’s going to stick to you like glue.”

“Great,” said Hawks.

And it was true. When Kashiko returned with co*cktails she picked a spot at extreme proximity to Hawks and tried to angle her way between him and any other potential conversations. When Hawks did insist on being part of a larger conversation (he was being clingy with Dabi in all but the physical sense), she would cut in and either mock the subject or imply the other people were idiots for how they were responding. It was really annoying. Dabi found himself glaring at her more and more often through the day, appeased only by the fact that Hawks seemed to be quickly getting sick of it too. All the way up through dinner she was a pest, and Dabi’s patience was all but gone when Sato made a reappearance.

“Hello again, everyone! I know I said I wouldn’t be seeing you until the rose ceremony, but I wanted to pop in quickly to make an announcement: today is Claire Voyance’s birthday!”

Everyone turned to wish Claire Voyance a happy birthday, some genuinely excited and others reluctant, but she didn’t seem particularly bothered. She didn’t look especially pleased either. It may as well have been someone else’s birthday.

“We’re not able to do much here in Paradise, but we didn’t want to let this slip by without a little celebration,” said Sato. “Prey, if you would?”

Prey rounded the corner carrying a cake with lit candles.

The cake was a masterpiece: a layered sponge cake, covered in glistening white cream with dainty piping around the edge, its top studded by strawberries and blueberries with a little heart-shaped chocolate sign nestled in the middle that read Happy Birthday Claire Voyance! Dabi’s mouth watered just looking at it, never mind that he’d just eaten dinner.

The group sang a botched version of the birthday song, and Prey set the cake down on the table in front of Claire Voyance. She pulled her hair back to keep it out of the way and blew out the candles in one go.

“She’s good at everything,” Tatami said, clapping along with the rest of the group. “It would take me forever to blow out candles…”

“There’s no need to envy her. She wasn’t very efficient about it,” said Kashiko.

“Perhaps, but it’s a birthday cake. So long as it’s fun and the candles go out without damage, what’s the point in efficiency?” said Gentle. “I actually think it’s endearing if someone doesn’t get all the candles at once—”

“And that’s why I didn’t ask you on the date,” said Kashiko.

“You know, I’ve never blown out birthday candles in my life,” Hawks said brightly. “I bet I would suck at it.”

“Doubtful,” said Kashiko.

Gentle and Dabi exchanged a pained look; how were they in such a predicament that birthday candles was becoming a sticking point for drama?

“Wonderful!” said Sato, clapping his hands and blessedly ignorant of the conversation. “We’ll give you a little time to digest after dinner, and later on we’ll cut up the cake and bring it over for you all to enjoy. Have a good night!”

With that excitement (and the beautiful cake!) out of the way, they all meandered down to the beach. A bonfire had been lit for them to gather around, but Dabi didn’t welcome it. The wind had died down, which was great for making sure sand didn’t go places it shouldn’t, but that meant the heat hung solidly in the air even as the sun set and the fire only made it worse; Dabi picked the log bench furthest from the flames. Hawks tried to sit next to him, but Kashiko beat him to it and sat herself between them. Tatami and Gentle gave her the side-eye, but no one else cared; they were too busy trying to stake their claims on other contestants. X sat on Hawks’ other side and tried to tempt away his attention (only possible because Kashiko was insufferable), Amplifier and Inasa were still bonding over karaoke locations in their hometowns, Takeda and Mongoose were discussing photoshoots, and “birthday girl” status had painted a target on Claire Voyance’s back because men were swarming her. A few women hovered around the edges trying to get those men to pay attention to them instead, and were very excited for the distraction as Fuwa and Nagamasa returned.

“You’re back! How did it go?” said Tatami.

“Really well!” Fuwa giggled, sitting down among them. “Nagamasa’s a real gentleman.”

“We were able to talk through town and window shop, then had dinner. It was rather peaceful,” said Nagamasa. “I might even call it the perfect date.”

“Do you think ours will be perfect too, Hawks?” said Kashiko, clearly fishing for compliments.

“We’ll have to see!” Hawks chirped, but zeroed in on Fuwa before Kashiko could say anything else. “By the way, is that another date card I see you carrying?”

“It is!” Fuwa held up the card. “Choose a man who’s more than a friend. Zookeeper, this one is for you!”

Fuwa seemed thrilled that a person who had the ‘integrity’ to not steal an earlier date was able to get one of her own. Zookeeper did not acknowledge this. She took the card out of Fuwa’s hand and beelined for Shikkui. She only stopped when she was so far into his space that he was physically leaning away from her, and said, “Go on a date with me.”

Shikkui looked around for an escape, but everyone else had quickly distanced themselves from Zookeeper’s target.

“Give it up, you’re f*cked,” said Cider.

Zookeeper turned her head to look at him with bone chilling blankness, and Cider cussed and ducked behind Nagamasa to hide.

“Uh, sure?” said Shikkui.

“Good,” said Zookeeper, and sat down next to him.

Everyone else continued to keep a reasonable distance.

“Wow. She’s… a little intense,” said Fuwa.

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m glad she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” said Dabi.

But the day’s ridiculousness couldn’t end there. Dabi was listening to Nagamasa recounting the events of the date (it really did seem like the dream date he’d mentioned yesterday) when drama struck. Chikuchi hadn't gotten any of the men surrounding Claire Voyance to take a look at her and decided to make it everyone’s problem. Dabi had barely noticed her storming away earlier, but he definitely noticed when she came back with the cake. It looked like two slices had been cut out of it but she’d grabbed it before whatever staff could finish the job.

“You want some attention?” she seethed. “You want to keep all the men for yourself? Fine! Happy! Birthday!”

And she threw the cake down into the bonfire. The flames stuttered as strawberries and cream splattered into the coals.

The outcry was immediate.

Men and women screamed at her for doing something so ridiculous, for attacking Claire Voyance on her birthday, for a hundred other things under the sun, so no one really noticed Dabi yelling, “Bitch, I wanted to eat that!”

Claire Voyance swiped a spot of cream off her knee, looked Chikuchi in the eye, and said, “Do you feel better about yourself?”

Chikuchi flushed with rage. “You—!”

“Confessional time!” cried Misty, running onto the beach. “Let’s break it up, everybody! Curious isn’t here anymore and we’re not going to play into any of her pre-approved games! If you’re physically taking your anger out on something that’s over the line!”

“I was not!” Chikuchi protested.

“The cake in the f*cking fire begs to differ!” said Dabi.

“I can’t believe you ruined Claire Voyance’s birthday!” said Itejuro.

“Now that’s giving her a little too much credit,” said Claire Voyance.

Misty clapped her hands to interrupt and said again, “Confessional time! Everyone go to your assigned spots! You can come back to the bonfire after we’re done.”

Dabi sent one last, longing look at the cake smoldering in the fire, but did as he was told. His assigned confessional location was outside and on the outskirts of the resort, with some hanging lanterns and strategically placed greenery to make the background look sort of interesting. None of the audience would know that a lot of the ambient light came from the glow of two vending machines nearby. The usual group of Misty, Shion, and Prey came to work with him.

“Well, that was fun,” Misty said dryly. “While it’s fresh in your mind, what are you thinking of Chikuchi’s actions?”

“I hate her and I will hate her forever,” said Dabi.

“Damn, okay,” said Misty. “Anything else you want to add about tonight?”

“Is there another cake?” said Dabi.

“We’ll try to source another one but I can’t promise anything so late in the day. I’m sure Sato will go hunting for one himself once he hears about this.”

So Dabi wasn’t getting any dessert and Sato was being inconvenienced.

“I hate her even more now,” said Dabi.

“Anything else…?”

“No. The cake was all that mattered.”

Misty shook her head in resignation, but thankfully that was the end of the night’s craziness.

Hawks woke on day three of Bachelor in Paradise, the day of the rose ceremony, and wanted very badly to play sick to avoid his date.

Could he even convincingly play sick, he wondered, drawing the sheets over his head as if that would stop the sun from rising. He’d never taken a day off for sickness in his life. Well, there was that one time he’d literally keeled over from exhaustion early in his career, but the H.P.S.C. had swept him away to their private hospital for recovery while telling the public he was on some super secret mission. It probably didn’t count, because even though he wasn’t flying anywhere they’d made him do a sh*t-ton of paperwork. Oh, the freedom to lay in bed without work…

But even if he tried to say he was sick, he didn’t think he could act the part convincingly enough.

And even if he managed it, he’d be relegated to bed and unable to participate with anyone, which would surely be a roadblock in his current mission of protecting Dabi from any threats.

His mission which hinged on him getting a rose from a woman every three days.

His mission which he would be compromising if he blew off a date.

Hawks sat straight up in bed and said, “I’m a professional. I can do this.”

Thankfully no one else was awake at this hour to hear the self-affirmation. Hawks got out of bed, dressed, and lingered for a moment near the door. He could see Dabi pretty clearly from this angle, how he’d kicked off all his blankets and still had a furrow in his brow as if he were annoyed by the heat already. How could a man look that cute while he was still asleep?

I can do this for Dabi, Hawks told himself, and forced his feet to move.

The sun was barely up, so while the staff was ever present, Hawks hoped this meant his breakfast would be peaceful. It wasn’t to be.

“Early to bed and early to rise,” said Kashiko, already seated at one of the tables. “You’re very dedicated to your schedule.”

“Well, once you’re in it long enough it’s really automatic,” said Hawks. “Ah, my order? Just some toast is fine.”

The woman behind the counter nodded and started preparing it.

“Care to join me for breakfast?” said Kashiko.

“I’d love to, but the schedule calls,” said Hawks. “I need a morning flight. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she replied.

Hawks grimaced. He accepted food from the staff member (she’d also given him dried fruit and a water bottle, all of it nicely packed for easy carrying) and took to the sky.

It was true that he had morning flights here as he’d done on The Bachelorette, but these weren’t the leisurely rounds he’d done before. Now that he knew danger was out there he took it very seriously. He picked out possible routes that an attacker might take, monitored the Paragon security movement, and confirmed which Pro Heroes were onsite for the day. Of course, there wasn’t much slack for him to be picking up. Pro Hero Majestic waved at him from his own aerial patrol coordinated with some of Team Idaten’s best sidekicks. The Oki Mariner made its own patrol on the waves, and still more heroes were on the ground and ready for action. Really, there were so many it was a wonder none of the contestants had picked up on it.

“So? How is it on the set?” asked Majestic, keeping pace with Hawks’ flight. “I heard something about a cake yesterday.”

“Man, I don’t even want to talk about it,” said Hawks. “I don’t know what possessed her to throw a cake in a fire. How did she think that was going to make a good impression on anyone, let alone the other guys here?”

Majestic laughed. “My high school intern is more mature than most of those stars. Ah, she wanted to pass along to you that Tokoyami says hello.”

“Those U.A. kids aren’t getting into any more trouble, are they?” said Hawks.

“Not that I’m aware of, but with their track record I suspect they’ll get involved with something very soon. My money’s on that Midoriya. He always seems to be in the middle of something.”

They chatted a little more, looping around the perimeter, until departure time was nigh and Hawks had to descend. He and Kashiko were loaded into a black SUV and driven away before most of the other contestants had crawled out of bed.

The date took place at the reserved poolside of the smaller Empire Stays hotel. Hawks and Kashiko were required to walk onto the set while holding hands. The producers really wanted them to be all smiley and giggly and romantic with each other, but thankfully the handholding was all the PDA Kashiko was interested in, and Hawks had long polished his PR smile.

“There you are!” cried an enthusiastic man, straightening up from checking the umbrella on the lighting equipment. “Great to see you! I’m Hiroto, and I’m a huge hero fan!”

It was a good thing Hawks could keep up that smile in any situation, because the idea of another hero-themed date made him want to cry.

“That’s cool! Nice to meet you, Hiroto,” he said.

“It’s nice meeting you, too!” said Hiroto. “I’ve got something fun set up for your date! Hawks, you’re a hero, so you probably know we fans see all sorts of things while following your work: love, tears, fights, betrayals! And with all those inspirations about human emotion, I took the jump and wrote a romance novel!”

“That’s really cool of you,” said Hawks. “Have you got a title?”

“Of course! It’s called Tears in Paradise.” That was an omen if ever Hawks heard one. Thankfully Hiroto was rolling on with his explanation. “I’ve only got one thing missing for it, and that’s the cover! You two are here to pose for that cover! You’re going to be the main characters, so we need to give you some context. You,” He pointed at Hawks, “are Haru! An honest, hardworking man married to Sakura,” he pointed at Kashiko next, “a sweet innocent woman who has a history with the idol Daisuke, who is married to beautiful social media influencer Chiyo. The book goes like this: it’s a beautiful day in paradise. Haru and Sakura are kissing. It’s a beautiful marriage. And then,” he swept an arm as if gesturing to someone nearby, “there’s Daisuke and Chiyo. Their relationship had no passion. Trouble comes to paradise!” He flung up his hands, and kept on acting out the scenes with more and more fanfare. “Haru and Chiyo meet on the beach for the first time and begin a torrid love affair… until they're caught red-handed! They’re all very upset. Daisuke is crying, he’s down! But that leaves Haru and Sakura alone on the beach. Haru goes down to his knees and begs forgiveness! And Sakura looks at him and says… Okay! And he picks her up and walks away into the sunset. What do you think?”

How had Present Mic put it, when all the men on The Bachelorette were so terrible at singing but he didn’t want to be mean?

“That’s… special,” said Hawks. “You’ll have to give me a copy once it’s completed!”

One of the producers on the sidelines gestured, and he got the idea pretty quickly—there was no novel, he shouldn’t try to sell it or probe deeper about it, this was just a setup for the date.

They were rerouted to a little onsite makeup artist and changing room. Hawks had been to so many photoshoots that this was second nature, and when they got into the photoshoot portion he was still at ease. Even if the H.P.S.C. had preferred him to have individual photoshoots, collaborations and pairs wasn’t something unheard of. It was perfectly platonic to lift Kashiko off her feet or lean in for poses as instructed.

“You’re doing great!” called Hiroto. There were professional photographers behind him but he was using a camera too to join in on the fun. “You make the perfect Haru and Sakura!”

This was meant to be encouragement, but it rattled something in Hawks’ brain.

I’m the perfect representation of a cheater? Wow. Flattering.

But… it did feel a little like cheating. He felt a twinge of guilt just touching Kashiko for the poses, because how was this fair to anyone? Hawks had no interest in her. Kashiko didn’t deserve to waste her Paradise date on a man who already had eyes on someone else, no matter how unattainable. Yes, he had to accept a date and find some woman to pair with to keep on the show, and yes, real lives were potentially on the line, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like sh*t.

“Now look at each other. You’re in love! Look at each other and let that love shine through your eyes! Yes, good, perfect!”

Hawks and Kashiko were almost nose to nose by this point, and Hawks saw nothing like love in her gaze. She looked like a cat who’d caught a canary, far more self-satisfied than anything, and Hawks knew his own gaze would be that birdlike precision other people had commented on in the past. How could this possibly fool anyone?

“I knew no one else could represent this as well as you two!” said Hiroto. “One more picture, and you can choose the pose!”

Kashiko predictably took this opportunity to lean in, trying for a kiss. Hawks had put up with that on The Bachelorette, but now? Not a chance. He twisted and dipped her, much to Kashiko’s surprise.

“No make outs on novel covers,” he quipped. “It’s better to be suggestive and show all of the models’ attractive faces, don’t you think?”

“Sensible,” said Kashiko, amused, and this ‘business acumen’ kept her from making any other attempts.

Hiroto finally declared them done, and they were split to go to their confessionals. Hawks was brought to a little sitting room with the ever-reliable Watts and Joules.

“How do you think it’s going so far?” asked Watts.

“It’s going okay. Kashiko is… Well, she knows what she wants,” said Hawks. “She’s efficient at getting it, too. It feels a little clinical, though.”

“How do you feel with her?”

“Honestly? Kind of chilly.”

Watts didn’t seem surprised but pressed, “Can you elaborate a little on that?”

“She’s very analytical. That’s not a bad thing. I’ve met a lot of super-analytical people through my work who care very deeply about others, but something sort of bugs me about her.” He scratched at his neck, embarrassed to be admitting it to a camera. “At least when I went out with Aiko, even if it didn’t go well, I had fun and felt like she was a friendly, involved party. Right now it feels like I’m being observed and judged. I feel like I’m getting graded on this or something. A shoot like this didn’t give a lot of time for conversation, so maybe it’s just a first impression that she’ll correct later in the date.”

He had a feeling it wasn’t, and was proved right as the sun began to set and they rendezvoused for dinner. In a little courtyard of the hotel, alongside a fountain and garden, they sat down to a small round table with food and drink set out on it. Cameras hovered around the perimeter.

“I think that went pretty well,” Hawks lied.

“It did,” said Kashiko, and left it at that.

Hawks didn’t really know what to do. Kashiko had defined herself by efficiency not by any hobbies or happiness, so he was drawing a blank on conversation topics. They weren’t really supposed to be eating or drinking anything on the table for the sake of the microphones, but Hawks sipped from his glass just to have something to do. There was an awkward lull, and then Kashiko said, matter of factly, “I’m thinking of a spring wedding.”

Hawks choked on his water. “Whoa, whoa, back up. Wedding?”

“Of course,” said Kashiko. “Other seasons are tolerable, but spring has the cherry blossoms. We can’t miss that photo opportunity.”

“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” said Hawks.

“It takes time to book everything needed for a wedding, so we need to start fast if we want perfection,” said Kashiko. “I’ve already compiled a list of venues—”

“Forget the venues. Why would you think we’re getting married?” said Hawks.

Kashiko raised a brow. “Because that’s the right thing to do. It simply makes sense.”

“Not to me, it doesn’t!” said Hawks. “Dates are meant for us to get to know each other, but I still can’t call you anything but an acquaintance at this point. You haven’t given me any reason to want to date you, let alone marry you.”

“I can fix that now,” said Kashiko, and started rattling off… was that her resume? She was acting like she was applying for a role in his agency, all this is why I’m superior to work with, without anything close to emotion. She summed it up with, “I meet all the qualifications to partner with a high-profile hero or celebrity, and unlike all your other options, I wouldn’t embarrass you. I always do my research.”

Hawks used one hand to set down his glass, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. “That’s the least amount of passion I’ve heard in a pitch since the last time I talked with the H.P.S.C. chairwoman. Why are you even focusing on me? My reputation? Money?”

“I chose you because we would make a good team,” said Kashiko. “I can cover all your flaws.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know what kind of person you are. I even follow your Instagram.”

His Instagram? His Instagram that he didn’t even know the password for because his secretary Robin updated it with “agency shenanigans” that were thrice approved by the PR team?

“You’re an upstanding man,” she continued. “I might even say you’re perfect. But there are little things that drag down your image, and I can fix that. We can help each other.”

Crack.

Hawks had gripped his glass so tight a hairline crack had split its side. Carefully he let go, and it sluggishly leaked into the tablecloth. He looked Kashiko in the eye and growled, “What is my name?”

Kashiko blinked in surprise. “Your name has not been released to the public.”

“I don’t care. What’s my name?”

She tipped her head with a frown now. “If this is a requirement to determine my skills in finding information—”

“No. I’m bringing attention to it because you didn’t even think of asking me.” Hawks could feel his feathers sharpening, rasping against the back of the chair. In retrospect he wouldn’t be proud of it, but here and now he was only angry. He continued in icy calm, “I can’t marry someone who doesn’t know something as basic as their partner’s name. Who doesn’t even care about it. I would rather take a hundred bumbling idiots who give a damn about my thoughts and feelings than some ‘perfect’ woman who won’t trip on a red carpet. I’ve had people steering my image and my personal life since childhood, and I don’t need it anymore.”

Kashiko leaned back, a sour expression on her face. “It’s for your own benefit.”

“If I spontaneously told you that I wanted to go out to the convenience store in some hideous disguise to eat cup ramen, what would you think?”

“Cup ramen shouldn’t fit into a hero’s diet.”

“If I wanted to do something stupid, like light a ping-pong ball on fire just to make you laugh, would you find even a little bit of amusem*nt in that or would you give me the cold shoulder?”

“Why would I laugh at something as stupid as that?”

“If I was a complete emotional wreck after a mission, would you give a damn beyond how it reflects on you?”

Kashiko scowled. “It’s pretty clear what you think of me.”

“I’ve lost too much already in my life,” said Hawks. “I will never commit to a loveless marriage on top of it, and you’ve made it very clear that I’d just be a tool for you to use. I think we’re done here.”

He stood up and left. He strode all the way back to the place they’d been dropped off, and thankfully the SUV was not only still waiting but the doors were open too. Watts and Joules climbed in after him, pointedly adjusting the camera for an on-the-move confessional. Hawks heaved a sigh as the SUV pulled away.

“Yeah, I think that went badly.”

“Anything else to add?” said Watts.

“I think I said everything I needed to. I had a bad feeling about it in the first place.” He shook his head wearily. “I shouldn’t have accepted the date.”

Thankfully they left him alone after that. Any dramatic interview would likely be from Kashiko’s side. Maybe she’d claim he was leading her on or something. The idea gave him a headache.

Back at the resort, Hawks bypassed the other groups who called out greetings. He went all the way down to the beach, went to the daybed currently in the shade, and flopped facedown on it. It took around ten minutes of sulking before the cushion dipped under another person’s weight. They didn’t speak at first, but a sudden buffet of air tugged at his hair, and Hawks gave a half fond, half hysteric laugh before turning his head.

“Hey,” Dabi said quietly, still fanning him with that silly Midnight uchiwa. “Date was f*cked up, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Hawks.

“Do I want to know?”

“There’s not much to learn,” said Hawks, rolling a little to see him better. “Just, you know, Kashiko trying to set herself up to take over the H.P.S.C.’s place in my life with all the condescending dehumanization as before, just minus the assassination team. No big deal.”

Dabi wrinkled his nose. “The f*ck?”

“Yeah. She proposed a marriage of convenience.”

“You’ve known of this woman for three days, why the f*ck would she propose already?” said Dabi.

“Well, I guess she didn’t even propose. She assumed. She came in demanding a spring ceremony.”

It was very validating to see the righteous anger on Dabi’s face. “What the f*ck.”

“Right?” Hawks laughed. “It’s ridiculous! But… dumb as it is, it’s a blow to my ego, too.”

Dabi studied him a moment, then laid gingerly down beside him. They both looked up at the underside of the colorful awning, quiet save for the waves breaking on the sand and the calling of sea birds.

“I want to be in love,” Hawks confessed in a whisper. “I want to be happy with someone. I want to trust them with my life. I want them to care, not— not use me, like the Commission did.”

“You want to make someone happy and keep them,” said Dabi.

It took a moment for Hawks to remember that those were his own words from back in The Bachelorette’s introduction videos. He wondered if Dabi had watched that video before they’d met and written him off as a romantic idiot, or if he’d watched it later on in f*ckuoka while trying to piece together the truth behind the hero. If Dabi remembered them so clearly, though… it mattered to him, didn’t it?

“You’re going to find that person,” said Dabi. “It’s like you said to me before, sh*tty people are more forward with their opinions. You’re going to find someone who makes you really happy, and you’re going to get that happily ever after.”

What if I want that person to be you? thought Hawks.

He was near saying it, too, but then Dabi turned his head to look him in the eye and said seriously, “In the meantime we can sacrifice Kashiko to the crabs. There’s billions of them here, no one will ever find the body.”

And that sent Hawks into a laughing fit so strong he cried a little.

Dabi’s third day of Paradise was kind of sh*tty.

By the time he woke up Hawks was long gone on his date with Kashiko. That put a prickle of envy in his heart, but he crushed that down as best he could and blamed his bad mood on the heat. He wandered the resort for a distraction, making sure to circle back to Tatami (she tended to grimace at the sight of the other men so he was liking his chances), and Gentle (he’d already given the producers three more drink ideas to better keep them cool).

The first excitement of the day was when the producers called for volunteers.

“It’s a little skit to go with some other footage we have. It might not be much but we want you to be really into it,” said Misty.

“I can help!” said Gentle, thrilled to do some kind of acting.

“Yes, you can embrace the ridiculous, you’re perfect for one of the roles,” said Misty. “Anyone else? We need one more man and two women.”

The other volunteers turned out to be X, Itejuro, and Amplifier. They gathered on the beach in costumes to read over short scripts. Gentle seemed to be… some kind of idol? Dabi was pretty sure that outfit belonged in one of Shigaraki’s rhythm games. X got a glittery dress and access to a phone, which immediately absorbed all her attention. Itejuro and Amplifier were much more toned down, meant to look like a salaryman and a young housewife. Dabi sat on the lowest terrace in the shade of the trees, sipping on barley tea as they paired into twos and started going through the script.

“Sakura, I love you,” said Itejuro.

“I love you, Haru,” said Amplifier.

Meanwhile Gentle expertly strummed a guitar and said, “Chiyo, do you like my new song?”

X didn’t respond. She was too busy looking at her phone.

Gentle leaned a little closer. “Um, Chiyo? Chiyo? …X?”

At long last she glanced at him. “What?”

After this… nonsensical bit, they changed partners. X lowered her sunglasses the way Magne liked to do to make a point, and said, “Who is that handsome man? I want to make love with him.”

Honestly, a wooden plank would’ve been a more convincing actor. She and Itejuro walked toward each other, stopped about a foot away, and she said, “That’s a biiiig briefcase.”

“Thanks,” said Itejuro. He then took held up that briefcase to hide their sudden makeout session.

“Chiyo!” cried Gentle, he and Amplifier apparently ‘catching them in the act.’

“It’s not what it looks like!” said Itejuro.

This devolved into a lot of “What?” “Why her” and comical face slaps in the supposed confrontation before the two couples split into the original pairs.

“Chiyo please,” said Gentle, “don’t leave me!”

X again failed to respond, too busy on her phone.

“X, your line!” Gentle whispered.

“Hm? Oh. I don’t, like, love you anymore.” And off X went, holding her phone overhead for a selfie.

Gentle fell to his knees on the sand, spread his arms and wailed, “I am unlovable!”

Dabi cupped a hand by his mouth and shouted, “That’s a lie!”

“Thank you, but it was in the script!” Gentle called back.

“Well, the script sucks!” said Dabi.

He glanced back to see if anyone else was witnessing this, and spotted La Brava on the steps. She was watching the others closely, but when she noticed Dabi she huffed and turned right back around. What was wrong with her?

That seemed to be a wrap for the acting, and the rest of the day was pretty boring, with the dates returning after dark. Hawks was the first one, and it was clear to everyone that he had a bad time.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone come back from a date alone in Paradise,” said Tatami. “What do you think could’ve happened?”

“You don’t think she asked him to drop his wings, do you?” said Gentle. “She was saying earlier how it ‘hid his muscles,’ and that can’t have gone over well…”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” said Dabi.

“Please do. We’ll hold anyone else back until he’s ready to talk,” said Gentle.

Dabi followed Hawks down to the beach and found him on a daybed. And wow, he looked tired. Dabi wasn’t sure what to do at first beyond fan him and try making awkward conversation, but thankfully it was all the prompt that was needed. Almost as soon as he sat down the tension eased out of Hawks’ body, and he turned on his side to relax as if they were on his dumb couch back in f*ckuoka. Dabi had to force himself into a similar calm as Hawks talked about his date, because Kashiko had been an asshole. Seriously, it was like she’d pinpointed his greatest source of torment and hit it with a rock, no wonder he’d been upset! Dabi was likely the only one here who knew what was going on with the H.P.S.C. and the coup, but surely any near-celebrity would’ve been pissed with that kind of treatment! Dabi tried to cheer him up, and luckily crab jokes worked. Crab jokes worked almost too well.

Kashiko herself arrived at the resort about half an hour after Hawks did, and likewise didn’t talk to anyone. She kept her nose in the air and stormed off to the women’s bedroom.

Shikkui and Zookeeper came in about an hour later. They were holding hands but everyone suspected this was Zookeeper’s choice more than Shikkui’s.

Once everyone was back the producers ushered all the competitors away to prepare for the co*cktail party.

Gone were the days of The Bachelorette with its suits and sparkly ballgowns. They were sweltering on a beach and the fashion reflected that. The women wore jewelry and short dresses, the men wore ‘formal’ collared shirts and shorts (Gentle didn’t really look any different from usual), and that was glamorous as far as Paradise was concerned. They were made to walk in lines from their bedrooms once everyone was ready, converging in the palapa with the couches again divided down the middle by gender. Sato came in to greet them with a luminous smile.

“So, how has Paradise been treating everyone?”

“It’s been great!” said Fuwa.

“I HAVE GREATLY ENJOYED GETTING TO KNOW EVERYONE HERE,” said Inasa.

“Wonderful! Overall it seems like it’s been a good first few days, but tonight is the first rose ceremony,” said Sato. “Gentlemen, you’ll be handing out the roses tonight. You’re all safe. Ladies, three of you will be going home. If you didn’t get a rose, you’ll be on the plane home tonight. Men, if there’s something you need to know, or ladies, if there’s anything you want to say or do, now is the time. The next time I see you, we’ll be presenting the roses.”

That was the signal to scatter.

As far as Dabi was concerned the co*cktail party at Paradise was pretty useless. In The Bachelorette it had been rare face time with Aiko, but here the men and women were together the whole time so there was no difference between this and any other night beyond the fashion. He suspected the idea of the co*cktail party was only continued as a way to inflict pressure on these Bachelor-minded competitors and hope for last minute drama. Most people flocked to the bar near the beach before dividing further to chat with their preferred partners.

Dabi lingered near the back of the crowd, so almost everyone was gone by the time he reached the bar counter, and… he had a vague recollection of the Paradise bartender being different. Hadn’t it been some flashy, handsome man on shift in previous seasons, a sentient confessional for all the contestants to treat like a friendly therapist? Toga had been crushing on the guy at one point, but the bartender now—stocky, scowling, silent—was so drastically different from her type that Dabi wasn’t sure what to do.

“Uh, mojito?” he said.

The bartender acknowledged only by making the drink, then scowled deeper as if to chase him away. Dabi retreated with his drink and asked Tatami, “Hey, where’s…”

“Tooru?” Tatami sent the bar a sad look. “He had a really great job opportunity somewhere else. I think he said he’d attend Bachelor meetups in the future even though he wasn’t a competitor, but I’m kind of disappointed that we didn’t get to meet him here.”

“The bartender has always played a role here in paradise. Do you think they’ll get someone new?” said Gentle.

“I feel like if they wanted a new bartender they’d have managed it before the show started,” said Dabi.

“Unless…” Gentle sent him a furtive look that Dabi didn’t know how to translate.

Gradually a group grew around them, mostly people keeping a reasonable distance from the bartender while they waited on drinks, and those clearing their heads before they went into high-stakes private conversations.

“I think I’ve picked who I’m going with,” said Hawks.

He’d been making the rounds, not really going in depth or sitting down with anyone, but hero schmoozing was powerful and Dabi had no doubt any of the women here would say yes to a rose from him. The only woman not pleased with his presence was Kashiko; they kept a wide berth between them but otherwise ignored each other’s existence.

“Yeah? Who’s that?” asked Dabi.

“Mongoose. She’s pretty chill, and we’ve got similar perspectives on a lot of things,” said Hawks.

The heteromorphic model and the heteromorphic hero? That made sense.

The other men among them grumbled a little at this claim (none of them would stand a chance at winning her over if Hawks was involved), but otherwise talked about their own options.

“I’m going for Kuin,” said Cider. “It’s not like any of you can handle her properly anyway.”

“Hell no, she’s my woman,” said Tsutsutaka. “I’m the one she kissed at the start—”

“And I’m the one she’s been kissing every time after,” Cider sneered. “Did you think you wouldn’t get cucked here? Get over yourself.”

Tsutsutaka squared up as if for a fight, but Tokuda stepped between them and said, “Let’s not start off our first rose ceremony in a bad mood. No matter what we think, the women here have every right to refuse us. Let’s not think we can call ‘dibs’ on anyone, alright?”

“Tell that to Zookeeper,” Shikkui grumbled.

“Oh no, how bad is Zookeeper?” said Hawks.

“Really bad,” said Shikkui. “Our date was kind of like Fuwa and Nagamasa’s where we got to go walking through town, and she paid way too much attention to baby clothes. When she wasn’t looking at baby stuff she was telling me that we would make hot babies, or talking about when she was going to meet my parents… She said she only came to Paradise because I would be here, and I’m ninety percent certain she’s been stalking me online for over a year.”

“That’s even worse than my date!” said Hawks. “Yeah, they both assumed they’d get what they wanted, but at least Kashiko didn’t jump all the way to children.”

“Well, your solution is simple. Just pick another person for your rose,” said Dabi.

“It’s not!” Shikkui threw up his hands. “I can’t even talk to another girl here! I don’t know what Zookeeper said to them, but they run away as soon as they see me! And if I manage to talk to someone more confident like Kuin, I’ll look over my shoulder and she’s there, watching me!”

Tatami winced and admitted, “She told us all that you were hers and to back off.”

“And that worked?” Dabi said skeptically.

“Normally it wouldn’t, but like… Zookeeper.”

Dabi shook his head, incredulous. “As far as I can tell there are three women here that are completely undatable so should be the three going home, and Zookeeper’s one of them.”

“Who are the other two?” asked Hawks.

“Kashiko and Chikuchi,” said Dabi. “I can’t tolerate any of them.”

“I think I’d like to get to know La Brava better,” said Gentle. “Aiko talked about her before so she’s always seemed like an interesting person, but it’s been three days and I haven’t gotten any closer to a conversation with her since we all met on the beach. She’s been very hard to track down.”

“Hopefully you hit it off with her better than I did,” said Dabi. “I don’t know what I said, but I definitely pissed her off.”

“Really?” Gentle looked a little concerned. “Why would she… I suppose I won’t know unless I ask her myself. Ah, it looks like she’s free now. I’ll—”

He made to leave, but Tokuda swiftly intercepted him.

“Hold on,” said Tokuda. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think any of you three should be approaching her right now.”

“We three?” said Dabi, raising a brow.

“Gentle, Dabi, and Hawks,” said Tokuda. “You three who were on Aiko’s season. You probably heard about her from Aiko’s side, but Aiko is a very good-natured person, so you wouldn’t have gotten an idea of the full picture—”

Tatami winced. “Oh, yeah. The Twin Conundrum.”

“Pardon?” said Gentle.

“Well, you know how La Brava and Aiko are twins,” said Tatami. “They’re not identical, but it was definitely a gimmick they played up when they went on The Bachelor together. And that has to be hard, you know? Going on a dating show with your sister as the competition, let alone being so close and similar that you’re constantly compared and you’re the one everyone decides falls short in every subject? ‘Stressful’ doesn’t cut it. I could tell that La Brava was having a hard time back then, but she always put on a happy mask if her sister ever worried. She was always resigned to everyone picking Aiko over her.”

“Which is exactly why she doesn’t want anything to do with Aiko’s ‘exes,’” said Tokuda. “She probably feels that you’d be chasing any similarities to Aiko in her, or otherwise that she’s only a second choice.”

“Of course I wouldn’t be doing that!” said Gentle, affronted.

“We know that, but logic doesn’t always dictate emotion,” said Tokuda. “At the very least, let’s give her some more time to get used to you before you jump into any conversations.”

Damn. No wonder La Brava had been pissy with him. Dabi had a taste of favoritism in childhood, and the idea of being stuck with that through romance and adulthood was horrible. Yeah, he’d back off and let La Brava do her own thing.

When Gentle left the group he did so dejectedly, and he did not pursue La Brava. The other members of the group dwindled and changed, but Dabi stayed right where he was, intending to ride out the evening in his little spot away from most of the drama. That was not to say he escaped it entirely. At one point Chikuchi stormed over to him to yell, “How dare you badmouth me to the other men! Are you trying to ruin my reputation?”

“Please, you already ruined it on your own,” said Dabi.

“You just hate me because you think I’m stealing Hawks from you!” she cried, as if she stood a chance of doing that in the first place.

“No,” said Dabi. “I hate you because I wanted to eat a cake, and you threw that cake in a f*cking fire.”

Chikuchi spluttered. “But— But Claire Voyance was—”

“I don’t give a sh*t what Claire Voyance may have done. I don’t even care if she got away with murder,” said Dabi. “You threw a cake in a fire. I will never forgive you.”

She made an indignant noise and stomped away again.

Eventually the producers mercifully rounded them all back up and into the Palapa. Sato awaited them, as did a little stand made out of driftwood supporting a platter stacked with long stemmed roses.

“Welcome to your first rose ceremony here in Paradise!” said Sato. “As we all know, everyone in this room came here for a second chance at love. For one reason or another, your first attempts failed to bring you happiness… but judging by the past few days, some of you are headed for that in Paradise. Tonight you get to find out if your feelings are mutual. Men, you’re handing out the roses. When I call your name, step forward and offer your rose to the woman you’re in a relationship with, or who you’d like to be in a relationship with. But remember, this is a two-way street. Ladies, if you’re not interested, you can decline. But if you don’t have a rose at the end of the ceremony, you’ll be going home. Ten roses, thirteen of you, and three women leaving tonight. If everyone’s ready, we’ll get started. Dabi, go ahead.”

Dabi stood up from the couch and approached Sato. He picked up the topmost rose and turned to face the others.

“Tatami,” he called.

Tatami blinked in surprise, but came up to meet him. She waited expectantly and Sato was looking at him too, so clearly he was supposed to say something more. He wracked his brain to no avail.

“You’re cool,” he said lamely. “Do you accept this rose?”

She studied him for a moment, then smiled. “You’re cool, too. Sure, I’ll accept it.”

She took the rose, and rather than the expected hug, she held out a hand. Grateful, Dabi shook it, and they returned to their places without any more fanfare.

As usual they went one by one.

Hawks of course chose Mongoose.

Gentle chose Amplifier, citing a shared interest in the arts.

Inasa chose La Brava, which Dabi had not seen coming but then again he hadn’t seen much of La Brava’s interactions to start with.

Tokuda chose Claire Voyance.

There was a bit of drama in that Itejuro picked Kuin and she accepted. Cider had looked ready to throw a tantrum (no wonder when he’d been so confident on her earlier), but ended up selecting X instead.

Tsutsutaka chose Chikuchi, because he was a territorial masoch*st and cake-destroyers were his type.

Sato had just asked Shikkui to come forward when Kashiko interrupted, “Can I step in for a second?”

“Oh, you have something to say?” said Sato, surprised.

“Becore you hand out that rose, yes.”

Mystefied, Sato nodded approval and Shikkui backed into line. Kashiko walked up next to the roses, looked at them all coolly and said, “As you all know, during my stay here in Paradise I haven’t fully made a connection here with anyone, and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time, especially my own. I’m leaving.”

“But we’re only a few days into this,” said Sato. “Are you sure? There are other men coming in later that you might form a connection with. Are you sure you want to step out so early and take that chance away from yourself?”

“As I said, I had no connection,” said Kashiko. “Let’s not pretend anyone was going to pick me. Goodbye.”

She strode out of the palapa and into the dark, pursued by two cameras.

“But I was going to pick her,” mumbled Shikkui.

Zookeeper heard this and turned her head sharply like something out of a horror movie, and Shikkui immediately cowered.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” said Sato. “We have staff members going to check on her, but in the meantime, Shikkui, it’s your turn.”

Shikkui went and picked up the final rose. The only women left were Zookeeper, Dusty Ash, and Enigma, the latter two eyeing Zookeeper warily while she seemed to be drilling a hole in his head with her blank enmity. Enigma was actually wide awake at this point and Dusty Ash did a subtle sidestep to be out of Zookeeper’s reach. Shikkui couldn’t sweat, but surely if he had the ability it would be like a waterfall down his face. His eyes flicked to each of them.

Don’t do it, Dabi mouthed, shaking his head. Don’t do it!

If Shikkui could just hold out long enough and pick someone else, Zookeeper would be off the show and they would all be safe from any potential retaliation from her! It would be so easy to escape it all by picking someone else!

“Zookeeper,” said Shikkui.

“Oh my f*cking god,” Dabi said under his breath, and Hawks coughed to cover up a laugh.

Zookeeper hurried to meet Shikkui, and when he offered the rose she said, “Yes. We were made for each other.”

Dabi decided not to feel any more sympathy for Shikkui since he’d brought his on himself.

“Ladies, if you are without a rose, please take the time to say your goodbyes,” said Sato.

Dusty Ash and Enigma hugged the friends they’d made in such a short amount of time and left.

“And that wraps up our first rose ceremony,” said Sato. “To all who remain, I hope in the upcoming days that you’ll be able to learn more about and strengthen the relationships you have right now, and see for yourself: is this the person I want to spend the rest of my life with? I’m looking forward to your answers. But for now, good night.”

When Eraserhead called to set up a meeting, Enji Todoroki knew that it had to be for one of two things: Shouto’s performance in U.A., or the uprooting of the Hero Commission. Enji would’ve been happy to talk about either.

Shouto didn’t keep him up to date on training outside of the internship these days, so news about that would be welcome. Enji had also been purposely sidelined from the Commission effort, to pass along information the H.P.S.C. was still entrusting to him and to ensure that some stability would remain through the upheaval even if Tensei’s first operation went south; it was still a cause he supported, and sitting idly—especially having learned what happened to Hawks—wasn’t easy for him.

Needless to say, he accepted the meeting quickly.

When Eraserhead arrived to Enji’s office he looked tired, and while that wasn’t unusual, there was a certain tenseness to his shoulders that had Enji’s hackles rising subconsciously. Even worse, he was accompanied by an uncharacteristically grim Present Mic.

“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice,” said Eraserhead, inclining his head as he entered the office.

“It’s no problem,” said Enji, gesturing to the open chairs. “I’ll assist you in any way I can. You hadn’t mentioned, though… Is this meeting to do with my son, or with the Commission?”

Eraserhead and Present Mic shared a heavy look.

“Both, honestly,” said Present Mic.

“We’re not asking about the son you’re probably thinking of, though. Please keep in mind, our questions are relevant, even if they don’t initially seem so,” said Eraserhead, dropping into one of the seats. “We hoped you could tell us about Touya.”

Enji’s brow furrowed. He could glimpse the crayon drawing on his wall, and the desk frame beside his hand held a photo of Touya and Natsuo lighting sparklers. The reminder sent a pang of hurt and foreboding through his heart.

“What about Touya?” he growled.

“He had a very strong quirk, didn’t he?” said Eraserhead. “Can you tell us more about it?”

Enji nodded slowly. “He had a combustion quirk that acted similar to mine, but the flames were far stronger. The problem was that, while he inherited my fire, he inherited his mother’s ice resistance instead of my heat resistance. When he used his quirk, it burned him.” Clarity struck through suspicion, and Enji sucked in a breath. “Is that what this is about? Did you find his support request in the Commission files?”

“What support request?” said Eraserhead.

“I requested a support item be created for him,” said Enji. “Touya—he didn’t always mean to use his quirk. It came out when he felt strong emotions. It didn’t matter if it was frustration or joy, it would trigger the fire and injure him, over and over. Even if he would never be a hero, I wanted him to be able to live without being hurt.”

“When did you make the request?” said Eraserhead.

“When Touya was eight years old. He was—That was a very rough time for him.” Enji could still remember the crazed, pained look in Touya’s eyes on that day he’d attacked Shouto; how the fire had blossomed out of his skin like the wildfire it would become, hot enough to evaporate his tears almost instantly. That expression should never have been on a child’s face. “I think the quirk aggravated his distress and sent him spiraling. I hoped a support item could help him manage better, for the quirk, but mentally, too. One of the Commission’s quirk specialists had diagnosed the problem with his quirk in the first place, and I brought him back in to evaluate how a support item might function best. The Commission had a support program in place already to provide items for at-need children with destructive quirks. It seemed like the best option at the time. They said it would be tricky and needed more time to research. Every time I checked in, they always said it was being researched. Near the end I started to give up hope. I reached out directly to support companies, but they had issues with developing and licensing items for civilian use, and directed me right back to the Commission project. The Commission ‘researched’ for five years before Touya died and nothing came of it. Not even a prototype for him to test.” Enji twined his fingers together, to stop his hands from shaking and give the illusion of calm. “Tell me, did they ever come up with anything?”

Eraserhead heaved a long, heavy sigh. “They didn’t.”

He sounded genuinely disappointed. Of course he was; two of Shouto’s classmates had “defective” quirks, too. He understood how much it could hurt a child without proper support.

“Sorry, big guy, but they didn’t even try,” Present Mic murmured.

Enji’s fingers tightened. “What?”

“There are records of your request, and your follow up contacts,” Eraserhead said carefully. “There are no records of any development or research.”

Enji’s knuckles went white. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. His ears rang as if someone had physically knocked him in the head, but it was just disbelief. He blinked, trying to force himself back into the present. He looked down at the photograph. At Touya’s smile.

“I don’t understand,” he croaked. “Expense didn’t matter. I could’ve paid. If the Commission was so keen to have strong heroes, wouldn’t they want to support such a strong quirk in case he went into the field? Did this happen to other children in the support program, too?”

“It did,” Eraserhead said grimly.

Rage and anguish rose up in Enji’s chest fast enough that his fiery beard snapped back into being. How many others had suffered like Touya did? Touya didn’t have to die. He didn’t have to burn. He could’ve been saved, and no one did anything. I didn’t do anything.

“Why?” he roared, banging a fist down on his desk. “What possible reason could they have? If it was a matter of funding, they would’ve said so!”

“It wasn’t funding at all,” said Present Mic.

Before Enji could demand a better explanation, Eraserhead interrupted, “There are a few more questions I want to get out of the way. Once those are done it’ll be easier to explain.”

Enji sat back again with a huff. “Fine! Continue!”

“To confirm what was listed in the obituary, Touya died in the fire on Sekoto Hill. Is that correct?” said Eraserhead.

Enji closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Did he go to Sekoto Hill often?”

“He did. Even though I forbade him from using it, he would practice with his quirk there by the stream,” said Enji. “If I understand correctly, he made a training course for himself.”

“You never accompanied him there?” Eraserhead checked.

“Of course not! I didn’t want him burning himself! I wasn’t about to condone his actions and he knew it. He used to sneak out of the house when Rei and I weren’t looking.”

Eraserhead nodded, frow furrowing. “You said there was a training course. He went to the same place each time?”

“I assume. He didn’t share that with me. The one time he did ask me to come, I—” Regret overtook anger, and Enji deflated. “I didn’t follow him. I should have. But I didn’t. My son Natsuo would know better than me. Touya told him everything.”

“Did Touya go to Sekoto Hill on any kind of schedule?” said Eraserhead.

Enji shook his head. “It was mostly opportunistic.”

“But it was in some way predictable?”

Enji didn’t like the way that sounded. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” said Eraserhead, “if someone was trying to catch Touya alone and out of reach from any help, could they have predicted when he’d arrive and wait for him at Sekoto Hill?”

Enji felt suddenly cold.

“There wouldn’t have been an exact time, but yes. It would only have been a matter of waiting until he turned up next,” he said. “What are you insinuating, Eraser?”

Eraserhead and Present Mic exchanged another look before turning back to him.

“There has been worry about the “Quirk Singularity” theory, with every successive generation evolving more and more powerful quirks at earlier ages, to the point that they cannot be controlled. This made the Hero Commission believe that they had to create high-powered heroes with absolute loyalty, to uphold the status quo,” said Eraserhead. “They monitored the two extremes of powerful quirks. Strong and ready-to-utilize quirks like Hawks’ were taken immediately into their training program, all the easier if they could be ‘rescued’ from poor or villainous families. But they also monitored ‘strong but useless’ quirks, like Touya’s. The more self-destructive, the better. They would then… harvest the quirk, at opportune times.” Eraserhead’s eyes narrowed, the red growing redder still and his hair twitching with the activation of his quirk; clearly he didn’t expect Enji’s reaction to be subtle. “We’ve found records stating that they took advantage of Touya’s training grounds to abduct him. He did not die at Sekoto Hill.”

“What?” Enji surged to his feet.

Eraserhead stood to match and spoke faster. “The jawbone fragment recovered after the fire was planted. The investigation team was paid off by the Commission, and the identification on the bone was false. Touya was cornered on Sekoto Hill and his quirk forcibly activated, creating a fire to cover up the kidnapping. It was the same force-activation quirk that All For One used during All Might’s battle against him in Kamino Ward. Touya wasn’t the only child taken this way—there are dozens of supposed deadly accidents that covered up the Commission’s captures. All these children were funneled into the Commission’s ‘Recycle’ program. You would better know this as the Nomu program.”

“What?” Enji howled again.

It couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening.

Present Mic stood, too. “It’s true. Ten years ago, Doctor Ujiko was on the Commission’s payroll.”

“It was the failsafe for the Legacy Program Hawks was enrolled in,” said Eraserhead. “When the ‘functional’ children in Legacy flunked out, they were sent into recycling as well, as something that could be ‘improved.’ Ujiko took them all apart and put them back together to make monsters with high power, low drawback, and easily manipulated minds.”

“Needless to say, Ujiko was a double agent,” Present Mic scoffed. “He took the Commission’s funding and supplies, but ultimately he was working for All For One.”

“When the initial Nomu facility in Aomori burned down, the Commission believed the project was destroyed, and Ujiko took the opportunity to retreat fully back to All For One,” Eraserhead agreed. “But everything up to that point was in the Commission records: who they took, how they took them, and the anticipated result. It’s thanks to the Commission that Nomus were able to develop at all. They moved so fast to rescue Bakugo and take down All For One because they didn’t want their involvement coming to light.”

No. No, no, no, no—breathe.

Enji flexed his hands, inhaling deep to keep what shreds remained of his calm.

“You’re sure?” he said. It felt like a wheeze. “Touya didn’t—He was—”

“Yes. He was kidnapped,” said Eraserhead.

Enji buried his face in his hands.

Touya had once fit in these hands. He could remember so clearly the day Touya had been born: early and small enough that Enji could hardly bear to hold him for fear of hurting him somehow. He’s small enough to fit in a teacup, Rei had said, wan but proud. My little teacup baby. He remembered the weight of the little boy on his shoulders. He remembered how Touya’s laughter rang off the walls, how wide he’d smiled, how he’d clutch crayons in his fist and draw with such heavy pressure he’d snap the wax and rip the paper but hated a lighter grip because it didn’t “fill the color right.” He remembered an older boy using that same relentless grip on whitened hair, and wished so badly that he could turn back the clock.

“Where is he now?” said Enji. “Is he alive?”

“We don’t know,” said Eraserhead.

“How can you tell me all this and not know?” Enji snapped.

“We haven’t been able to find our leads,” said Eraserhead.

“Ujiko won’t talk. He knows he’s not getting any kind of deal, so all he does is laugh at us and drop cryptic messages to try confusing us,” said Present Mic. “Trying to get anything out of All For One only got us taunts, too.”

“We do have one lead, though,” said Eraserhead.

He stayed quiet, and Enji realized this was a silent command to stand down so they could continue the conversation like civilized people. He stopped channeling his quirk and thumped back down into his chair, crossing his arms and scowling. The other two sat down to match. Eraserhead blinked, his own quirk shutting off, too.

“We had to gain specific intelligence to raid the Nomu factories,” he continued calmly. “It came from an informant called Giran. He said he gained that information from people on the inside, and we believe we know those insiders’ identities. The first one goes by the name Kurogiri.” He paused. His jaw clenched and forcibly unclenched; this person must’ve meant something to him personally. “He called in to Mic’s radio show and gave himself away as Oboro Shirakumo.”

The name rang a bell.

“The U.A. student?” said Enji. “The one who died during work studies a decade ago?”

Present Mic tutted something about being too direct, but Eraserhead nodded and said, “That’s correct. The Commission files state that his body was ‘recycled’ into the program.”

“But he’s alive?” said Enji, beginning to hope.

“From what we understand, yes,” said Eraserhead. “His identity also gives away the second insider. The man known as Kurogiri ran a bar frequented by vigilantes and underground heroes—the same bar I had my meetings with Giran in. I never saw Kurogiri myself, but I’ve gained descriptions of him from other patrons. The bartender present during my visits goes by Dabi. He was clearly allied with Giran, and has displayed an intensely hot blue flame quirk. We know that the Aomori factory was destroyed by blue flames—Giran specifically stated that one of the test subjects was trying to break out or die trying—and the man worked for Kurogiri. It’s rational to connect them. Our belief is that Kurogiri and Dabi were victims of the recycle program who escaped from the facility. If they escaped, others may have, too. They would know better than anyone.”

Maybe Touya had been there. Maybe Touya had escaped. If he was really alive…

“Then we need to talk to them,” said Endeavor. “Why haven’t they been brought in for questioning yet?”

“Because the investigation moved too damn slow,” said Present Mic. “Kurogiri’s bar is destroyed, and both he and Giran are missing.”

Oh, for god’s sake.

“Destroyed by what?”

“A quirk,” said Eraserhead.

“It only happened once the connection was made between the Nomu and the ‘recycling’ plan,” said Present Mic. “We located Touya’s information, and then everything went to sh*t. The Commission must’ve known that once that came out, with Touya of all people, there would be no way to save themselves from the public or from you. Miruko and Jeanist have taken out the Commission assassins—which, by the way, still freak me out because they should not have existed—but it looks like the Commission went for the next best thing. They strategically released some of Tartarus’ big names to do their dirty work.”

“That’s how the likes of Dictator got out? He was released?” said Enji, disgusted; heroes at large were aware that certain villains who absolutely should not be free had appeared to cause havoc, but the how and why had been closely guarded.

“Unfortunately so. We believe the bar’s attacker was Overhaul,” said Eraserhead. “But while Overhaul is a threat on his own, he historically gathered other powerful people under him to do his work. It’s likely that there are more villains moving with him, chasing down Kurogiri after being bribed and released by the Commission. We’re still working to find who exactly is missing compared to the forged prison records.”

“What about Dabi?” said Enji, desperate. “You said he was an insider, too. Is he missing, or—” Realization struck, and Enji hissed, “The bento.”

“Pardon?” said Present Mic, confused.

“This Dabi is the same one Hawks is monitoring on that Paradise show, isn’t he?” said Enji.

“It’s a bizarre form of witness protection, but it kept Hawks safe once, and it can keep Dabi safe too until we track down who’s targeting him,” said Eraserhead. “We don’t know the particulars, but Dabi seemed to be aware of a potential attack even before we did. Our hope is that he’s in contact with the missing pair, but even if he has another informant, we’d like to know about it.”

This was all the news they had. They asked him for more information about Touya—anything that could be used to identify him if he were still alive—but they had no more information that could be shared.

“Do not go after the Commission,” Eraserhead said firmly when they got up to leave. “We gave you this information because it’s your family and you deserve to know, but if you tip off the Commission that you have an idea of what’s going on, it’ll be just like that Aomori factory. They’ll go underground. We’ll lose them, the records they’ve been hiding, and the chance to find what happened to Touya.”

“Believe us, we all want to see the H.P.S.C. burn, but we’re looking for complete destruction of their reach and authority," Present Mic agreed.

“It will take time,” said Eraserhead.

“I won’t take risks,” said Enji. Not with Touya’s safety. Not anymore.

The two heroes left.

The office was oppressively silent in their wake. There was paperwork to do, but Enji didn’t so much as glance at it; he doubted he’d be able to read it with how turbulent his thoughts were. He left his desk and stood by the window, looking out at the bustling city as if he might be able to spot his firstborn on one of the sidewalks.

When Enji had first heard of Hawks—young, bright, talented, rocketing up through the hero rankings—it had hurt. Part of him was angry, because that was supposed to be Touya’s place. Another part was sad, for the very same reason. Hawks had been a shadow of Touya in his mind: salt in the wound, a keen reminder of what he’d lost. He’d hated Hawks’ very existence. But then he’d reached number one, and suddenly everything seemed so… small, in perspective.

Being the top hero in the country didn’t change much of anything. He got a plaque in the mail from the H.P.S.C. to commemorate the title, but he spent that night in his dark office long after the sidekicks had gone home, thinking of how he would give away a hundred of these useless tablets if only he could hear that voice in the hall again asking him to show off his supermoves.

Was this really what he’d been craving so long? Were all those things he’d abandoned and torn apart really worth this? How had be believed that Rei’s sanity was an acceptable casualty? Her love, Fuyumi’s confidence, Natsuo’s trust, Shouto’s care, Touya’s life?

He stood on a mountain of failures, and this title he’d fought for so long was the crowning failure to finish them off.

He wished All Might had never lost his place.

Other people wished the same. Fuyumi had nervously congratulated him, but the rest of his family ignored him. The public eyed him with caution or resentment. They still sang All Might’s praises, and he didn’t blame them. He didn’t deserve this position. Enji was angry, and grieving, and lost, and he was sure he would’ve spiraled if Hawks hadn’t shown up.

Hawks had looked him in the eye and said, “I respect you, but you need to do better.”

Because “better” had nothing to do with a title.

Hawks had stuck stubbornly with him, insisting on joint missions, poking and prodding and steering him out of regret and back into action. Because he wanted Enji to be better, and had the faith that he could be. Slowly Hawks’ presence separated from Touya’s in his mind. For all the pretend carelessness Hawks was a very clever man who took his job seriously, and his quirk may have been promising from birth but he’d never slacked on anything from practice to wing care. Enji always respected those who worked hard for what they had. Hawks had not usurped Touya’s place. They were contemporaries. Enji went from seething about Hawks ‘replacing’ Touya, to wondering how they might have interacted together.

Maybe, if Touya had become a hero, they could’ve teamed up like all the other young heroes seemed to be doing these days.

Maybe, if Touya had chosen another path, he’d simply roll his eyes at all the canned coffees if he and Hawks visited the agency at the same time.

There were a lot of similarities between them. Enji liked to think they would’ve been friends. It was a lost, wistful future, but it helped him look forward in this one, and to accept help from the new number two a little more easily. When Enji told Hawks point blank that he wanted to change, Hawks had been proud. He and Fuyumi believed that Enji could change, and he took strength from that.

Learning about Hawks’ past had been a blow. Enji had been ashamed not to have realized something was wrong sooner (shamed further still because he could see the similarities in the Commission’s treatment of Hawks and how he’d behaved toward his own family), but he knew now to put the luxury of regret aside and move forward with what could actually help the victim. He hadn’t been able to save Touya. He would save Hawks.

And now he was here.

And now Touya might be alive.

Enji had always wanted to save him. He just never knew how. He’d been too young, probably, to have children. Too unprepared. He’d gone to view the cherry blossoms with Rei a few months after Touya was born, picked petals out of his wispy red hair, and believed he could protect these precious people. He was the number two hero. He would never let anyone lay a hand on them. But what good were his fists and his flame when it wasn’t a villain hurting his son? When Touya’s quirk drawback had been diagnosed, Enji had been distraught. He’d looked for help. The Commission offered counselors to their heroes, and Enji took advantage of that.

Touya can’t be a hero, they told him. If he tries, he’ll hurt himself. He might even kill himself. To protect him, you have to distance him from the industry.

Enji himself was a hero. It was the only thing he knew how to do. He became the threat, because if Touya idolized him, the boy would follow in his footsteps, wouldn’t he? He tried to cut himself out of Touya’s life as best he could, and both of them were miserable.

I hate this, he told the Commission. He keeps looking for me. When I say no to him, he cries.

When he gets older he’ll understand, they replied. For his sake you have to stand your ground.

But that was so hard to do when the world wanted to drag Touya into heroics. He firmly declined interviews and public appearances asking for Touya’s presence. He let his agency’s PR team bully him into allowing the invitation for the Hero Gala, and spent the whole time distraught because Touya was being exposed to the glamorous side of fame, and what kind of expectations were being formed in his head now, and what if this encouraged him to try harder to be a hero? He was so small, so fragile, and Enji was so very useless.

A selfish piece of him wondered if it could be managed. He’d asked for Touya’s support gear. The Commission hadn’t seemed overly optimistic about the effectiveness but promised to work on it. When weeks and months went by with no information, Enji started reaching out to other independent support companies. These meetings all started the same: he was sat down in an office with someone who took copious notes and seemed enthusiastic… up until they asked what other resources he might’ve tried already, and every time the Commission was mentioned, their willingness to help disappeared.

The Commission has the best researchers, if they can’t figure it out we don’t stand a chance, they said, but a few seemed edgy about it. At the time Enji had wondered if there was some friction between support companies that he hadn’t been aware of. Now he wondered if other companies had known about this so-called Recycle Program. If the Commission had bribed or put pressure on them to keep vulnerable people unprotected.

The idea made him fume. Flame licked at his face again. Anyone who looked up at his window would be met with the full force of that scowl he’d worn for all those dishonorable, ambitious years clawing for the top.

Enji had never been able to bring himself to dispose of Touya’s files. He still had all the records of where he’d gone, who he’d talked to and what they’d told him. If any of those people had known, if they’d been deliberately feeding information to the Commission to kill those people asking for their help… Well. He was going to have all that information forwarded to the investigation team. The net would widen. Anyone even remotely involved was going to face karma.

The door to his office opened and Burnin stepped in.

“Hey, boss,” she called, “we’ve got a request for backup. Tsukauchi tracked down another bunch of those villains that got loose from Tartarus. They’re too dangerous for the local heroes to risk a confrontation, so—”

Enji turned to her and growled, “We’re going to crush them.”

Burnin froze in surprise. Slowly her signature cutting grin spread across her face, and she began to laugh. “Aha! There he is! There’s our Number One! It’s been a while since I saw that kind of fire in you!”

Endeavor scoffed and turned back to his desk, preparing to leave. “Go round up the others. We have work to do.”

Burnin whooped and left the office, crowing, “Flaming Sidekickers, we are on!”

“Oh. Oh no, that’s so awkward.”

“I know,” Natsuo groaned, slumped against the outer wall of the Todoroki estate with his head in his hands.

“But— But Fuyumi thinks it’s all resolved between you?” said Yukina, aghast.

“She does!” said Natsuo.

Their amateur family therapy session at the hospital really had been great: Natsuo gained a new understanding and appreciation for all of his family’s perspectives, some catharsis of his own, a reassurance that his mother was not going to willingly f*ck up her life again, and a cessation of the hostility between him and Fuyumi over the Dabi is Touya argument. The problem was that Fuyumi had left it with the wrong idea.

I think this actually fixed an argument Natsu and I were having. What a relief! she’d said.

How had it been fixed, though?

Did she think that Natsuo acknowledging her worries about Touya being recognized meant he’d dropped the Dabi angle?

Did she mean that she no longer resented the idea of him making the connection between Dabi and Touya, when she understood how important this was for him, too?

“I think her idea of fixing it is to not address it at all,” Natsuo grumbled, rubbing at his temples. “I think she shared her piece, better understood me, decided to take that as a white flag for something unrelated, and stepped back without any intention of talking about it ever again.”

“From what you’ve told me she doesn’t seem to stand up for her own feelings,” Yukina agreed. “I think it gave her an out for an argument she didn’t want to have.”

“But isn’t this making it worse?” said Natsuo.

“Yes, but… How can you salvage it without it blowing up again?” asked Yukina.

Natsuo heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t suppose you found any breakthroughs for proof since classes ended today?”

Yukina shook her head. She’d been Natsuo’s partner in researching all things Dabi—and yeah, they’d confirmed that Dabi and at least two more members of the League of Villains had definitely been involved in that Creature Rejection Clan’s takedown a few years ago—but there was almost no other information to be found. It was nice not to feel completely alone and insane, though.

Natsuo pushed off of the wall, rolled his shoulders, and tried to look confident. “Okay. So. Game plan. We don’t talk about the Dabi being Touya thing at all unless Fuyumi brings it up first.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Yukina. “If she does, we can respond based on how she addresses it.”

“Yeah. Totally. Nothing can go wrong there. We can do this.” Natsuo inhaled deep and let that breath out slowly. “If at any point you want to leave, just let me know and we’ll get out of here.”

“And miss one of the infamous Todoroki family dinners?” Yukina laughed. “Not a chance.”

“You say that now, but wait until you have to sit at the same table as Endeavor,” Natsuo snorted. He took her hand, and she swung their linked arms between them with a smile. It made the nervousness ease out of him, and Natsuo smiled back at her. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thank you for the invite! I’ve been looking forward to it,” she replied.

They walked up to the door hand in hand.

“Look at you two, you’re so cute!” Fuyumi cooed as soon as they entered the genkan; she’d been in the hallway already as if waiting to ambush them.

“Yumi,” Natsuo whined, embarrassed.

“Don’t Yumi me, it’s my job to embarrass you,” she laughed. “Welcome, welcome! Yukina, you’re the very first girlfriend he’s ever brought home, so this is a special occasion! I’ve made a cake we can eat during the premiere… I swear this time we can actually enjoy it. I’m really sorry about my first impression.”

“My first impression was that appetizer you brought, and there’s no reason you’d ever need to apologize for that,” said Yukina. “You really made cake?”

Fuyumi had gotten a little nervous but cheered right back up. “I did! I hope you enjoy it. Dinner is almost ready, so you can go right into the dining room! We’ll bring the food out in just a second.”

Well, that went smoother than anticipated. Natsuo and Yukina went to the dining room and found more seats than usual around the table, but not quite enough for what Natsuo was expecting.

“Did we lose a guest?” he asked.

“More like a host,” said Miruko, entering behind them.

“Oh! It’s nice to see you again, Miruko,” said Yukina.

The Rabbit Hero flipped her hand dismissively. “Hey, none of that. I’m off the clock. Just call me Rumi.”

“Uh, Rumi, what did you mean by missing a host? Did Shouto get held up at school?” said Natsuo.

“Nah, he and his guest are in the kitchen with Fuyumi,” said Rumi. “Endeavor’s not going to be here tonight. He texted Fuyumi to say he was going to be really late and to eat without him. She’s sort of nervous about it, so let’s stay away from the topic, shall we?”

Great. Another thing to add to the forbidden topic list. Natsuo was about to ask what they were permitted to ask about when a shining new topic entered the room. Fuyumi came in first with most of the food, followed by Shouto with another portion, followed by… Bakugo.

“Wait, you?” said Natsuo. “Sho, I thought you invited Midoriya? Or did I read that wrong?”

Shouto’s shoulders slumped and he gave the impression of a kicked puppy. “Midoriya said he was busy tonight so I should ask Bakugo instead.”

“The f*ck are you looking at?” said Bakugo. “I’m not a second f*cking option, I’m here to take f*cking notes.”

“About what?” said Natsuo.

“f*ck you, that’s what,” said Bakugo, at the same time Shouto said, “Bachelor In Paradise.”

“Also mapo tofu!” said Fuyumi, setting out the dishes. “I gave him my recipe last time, but I think I gave him the standard one I found online instead of the version I tinkered with, so he wanted to compare notes! He helped out with some of the food here, actually! Sorry for stealing him, Shouto.”

Shouto shrugged. “I knew it would happen. Kaminari says he’s a kitchen demon.”

“Say that to my face,” Bakugo snapped.

Shouto turned around so they were nose to nose and said, flatly, “Kitchen demon.”

“f*ck you, Icyhot—”

“Let’s all sit down and dig in!” Fuyumi said brightly.

The food was very good. Fuyumi was always unmatched in cooking but the ‘kitchen demon’ had held his own. Yukina complimented the dishes, which had Fuyumi beaming and Bakugo merely grunting in acknowledgement. This turned into questions about where they’d gotten the recipes, the ingredients, the shops, their days…

“You’re really good at this!” Natsuo whispered.

“I’m working on mastering the art of small talk!” Yukina whispered back.

If she hadn’t mastered it yet she was well on her way to it, because it was one of the most peaceful dinners Natsuo could remember. The lack of Endeavor helped, of course. Their deadbeat father wasn’t even mentioned until they were cleaning up and Fuyumi said, “I really am sorry that Dad couldn’t come. He was held up at the agency but I know he was looking forward to meeting you.”

Natsuo opened his mouth to say Endeavor would be meeting Yukina over his dead body, but Yukina smoothly replied, “We’ll have to set up another dinner! Send me some dates and I’ll check my calendar to see what would fit.”

“You don’t have to,” said Shouto. “Endeavor doesn’t talk during meals. I don’t think there’s much point to it if you’re looking for an introduction.”

“Add Endeavor and this table’s a f*cking dumpster fire,” Bakugou agreed.

“Shouto!” said Fuyumi, scandalized. “Dad would absolutely want to be a good host!”

“Does he know how?” said Shouto, with genuine curiosity.

Fuyumi looked to Rumi for backup, and Rumi said, “Having a meal with someone as an introduction is totally normal and Endeavor’s done it for work about a bazillion times even if he wasn’t the host. He knows how to act.”

“Thank you, Rumi,” said Fuyumi, and kissed her on the cheek.

Rumi gave a sunny smile until Fuyumi disappeared into the kitchen with the dirty dishes, then her face dissolved into a scowl and she muttered, “Give me an excuse and I’ll strangle that man with his own spandex.”

“I like you,” said Natsuo.

“Everybody likes me,” said Rumi, standing up. “Wait for me, Yumi! I’m helping out.”

Fuyumi immediately protested. “No you’re not, you’re a guest—”

“And you wouldn’t let a guest languish unattended, would you?” said Rumi, not even pausing on her way to the kitchen.

“You’re not unattended, we have a whole watch party.”

“And yet here I am, wasting away, girlfriend-less. Move over, you wash and I’ll dry.”

Fuyumi acquiesced with a laugh.

Shouto gave Bakugou a judgmental look. “You’re never like that with anyone in a kitchen.”

“Why the f*ck would I be?” said Bakugo. “It’s not my fault our class is made up of animals who can’t be trusted with a sponge!”

“Sato bakes all the time, though. And you won’t let him wash his own pans either.”

“Listen here, dipsh*t—”

“I think it’s time to set up the TV!” Natsuo interrupted. “Shouto, help me find the remote. Yukina, Bakugo, you can sit down.”

“Why do you need help finding the remote?” said Shouto. “Fuyumi already said it was—”

“We’re looking, Shouto.”

So peace remained as the cleanup finished, and they all sat down in front of the TV already tuned to the Bachelor station. Natsuo sent one last anxious glance at Fuyumi and whispered, “She doesn’t look worried…”

Yukina patted his knee and said, “I think it’ll be okay.”

“You do?”

“Of course. She’s been won over by the Hotwings, I don’t think she’ll focus on anything else about Dabi.”

Natsuo wrinkled his nose, but the show started before he could make any comment. The title card popped up for what felt like a fraction of a second before switching to a view of an empty beach, zooming in as the host stepped out onto the sand.

“Welcome to Bachelor in Paradise, where there’s only one rule: fall in love, or go home.”

“There’s no way anyone falls in love in the span of time they give them on this show,” said Natsuo, and was immediately shushed.

“Your favorite bachelors and bachelorettes have returned for a second—maybe even third—shot at love,” the host went on. “Each episode, some will be sent packing as new sexy singles get ready to mingle. And it’s all happening in Okinawa, on one of the world’s most beautiful beaches. Who will find love? Who will leave with a broken heart?”

By the looks of it, a lot of people would be leaving with broken hearts. The voiceover was interspersed with clips of the contestants being fools with each other and devolving into catty fights about “you’re lying” or “ugh he’s obsessed with you,” and just like with the Bachelorette previews it contained a lot of tears.

“It all starts tonight on the exciting season premiere of Bachelor in Paradise!”

The episode then jumped into introductions, showing the competitors walking down the path and doing a quick interview with the host before moving on to the beach. The very first person was Tatami, who seemed kind of boring. Natsuo had a vague recollection of her from a far-off episode Fuyumi had forced him to watch. Tatami had been almost a non-entity until about halfway through her season, when the other women in the mansion had dogpiled her for the way she’d worded her affections during a group date. Somehow “I like him” wasn’t enough, Tatami logically wasn’t ready to say “I’m in love with him,” which defaulted to “I’m falling in love with him,” which wasn’t good enough because the Bachelor series was a cesspit fed on insta-love and the decay of sanity. She’d been bullied by other contestants who claimed she was there for the wrong reasons, passive-aggressively targeted by the Bachelor who heavily implied she wasn’t moving fast enough, and during a co*cktail party she finally broke down and said, “I love you.”

To which the Bachelor said, “Cool.”

He did not return the sentiment, which made sense because he was on a show meant to have him cheating on a dozen women at a time. But Tatami had been driven to the brink, so it also made sense when she blew up and screamed at him for being a hypocrite demanding things from her that he refused to even properly acknowledge. She called him a self-obsessed villain, a scumbag, a predator for leading women on and trying to get the most out of them even when he had full intention of dropping them out of the show. Natsuo had agreed—the Bachelor of that season was a sleazeball with wandering hands and a penchant for suggesting the women take their tops off in the pool—but the producers had escorted her out of the mansion, the other competitors rushed to their confessionals to claim she was the real villain of the season, and the fans had talked sh*t about her ever since. Sure enough, when it cut to a quick shot of her in a confessional, the label onscreen read, Tatami, 23, Here to call BS.

“I’m really excited to be here,” she gushed. “There is someone I’m hoping will be here romantically, but even if that doesn’t work out, I’m looking forward to just meeting some of the people who’ve confirmed they’re attending already, like Dabi.”

And immediately it cut to Dabi walking down the stairs. Where Tatami had been in a bikini Dabi had gone the opposite route: his clothes were long-sleeved, loose and breathable as if he were about to go wander a desert, except…

“Are those rain boots?” said Natsuo.

They were. Dabi was prowling a beach in long sleeves and rain boots. Natsuo buried his head in his hands, torn between incredulity and relief that at least this would protect him from sand.

“It’s already too hot,” Dabi griped in his own little confessional. His label read Dabi, 25, #1 Big Brother. Which. Wow. Painfully accurate.

The other contestants arrived, gossip was had, and they moved into the resort for the host’s official welcome and explaining of the rules. Immediately after he was done Dabi was kidnapped by the girls. A few cameras hustled after them into the trees, and an audio worker with a feline quirk was glimpsed angling a boom mic to better pick up the resulting conversation.

Are you and Hawks dating?

There’s no way you’re not together, right?

Team Hotwings?

The watching party observed in complete silence for a while as Dabi grew more frazzled.

“He isn’t denying it,” Fuyumi said blankly.

“He’s not denying a goddamn thing!” cried Natsuo. “But he’s letting them believe— Why?”

“Hawks said Dabi had sh*t confidence, but this really takes the cake!” Rumi howled.

“But you know this means he totally likes Hawks,” said Fuyumi. “It would be so easy for him to just say he’s not interested!”

“Why are they so stupid?” Natsuo groaned, burying his head in his hands.

Dabi gave permission for the girls to go chasing after his man, like an idiot. This immediately pivoted to confessional shots of the women, gushing about how excited they were to have a chance with a pro hero.

“He’s the absolute hottest,” said Chikuchi, fanning herself with her hand. “I’m going to make him mine.”

“If Dabi is blind enough not to see what he’s got, then sorry, but I’m not a nice enough person to let him realize it! This is my chance!” said Kuin.

“I don’t get it,” said Tatami. “I guess… maybe Team Hotwings was more of a marketing scheme than a real thing? But I could’ve sworn with the way they even look at each other… Is this what they call a bromance?”

“Bromance,” Rumi wheezed, near tears with laughter.

“Rumi, you have to give everyone the inside scoop,” Fuyumi giggled. “Everyone here can swear to secrecy but they have to hear it. The reality of Team Hotwings.”

“Hawks is down bad!” said Rumi. “If you give him half a chance, he’ll wax poetic about anything Dabi does. He could blink and Hawks’ heart damn near skips a beat. He made Hawks a lunch for work, and the next thing I know I’ve got sixty text messages praising it. Odes to omelets. Plaudits on pastas. Salutes to octopus sausages.”

Shouto clapped a fist into his hand, as if he’d had some revelation. “I knew Dabi made that one at the agency.”

“Anyone with eyes can see the bird is stupid for him,” said Bakugo. “The real question is, why hasn’t he made a f*cking move?”

“Because anytime someone suggests it he goes down a self-hate spiral where he convinces himself that he’s only seeing things he wants to see and he’s too much of a martyr to ‘inflict his feelings’ on someone he likes,” said Rumi, rolling her eyes.

“He what?” said Natsuo, baffled.

“I know,” Rumi groaned.

“Well that’s his problem,” Bakugo huffed, crossing his arms. “Making goo-goo eyes all the time and then not making a move is giving Dabi mixed signals. Dabi made him a f*cking bento! That’s a f*cking advance! Hawks can tweet at you all he wants, but if he doesn’t tell that sh*t to Dabi, that’s as good as a rejection! No wonder Dabi didn’t claim him!”

“That’s what I keep telling him!” said Rumi. “But then he’s all like, ooh, no, Dabi’s comfort— Dabi would be a whole lot more comfortable if he could get a straight answer.”

“Straight,” Bakugo scoffed.

Their exasperation only worsened when Hawks touched Dabi’s face, announced it “round and cute,” and left Dabi a visibly pining mess afterward.

“Get it together, man!” Natsuo whined. “This is getting painful to watch!”

More painful still was the reveal of the first date card and the absolute madness everyone was driven to.

“No, no, don’t give it to her!” said Fuyumi, as Fuwa attempted to give the card to Zookeeper. “No, you did everything right, she’s just mean! You deserve the card!”

Zookeeper was creepy as hell, and despite her promise did not tell Shikkui what was going on. She went to harass the other women instead, and Shikkui quickly found himself isolated and confused.

“Wait, what do you mean Fuwa’s going with Nagamasa instead?” he said to Tokuda near the bar. “But I already told her yes? Was I not clear somehow?”

Tokuda quickly shut down speculation by saying Fuwa wasn’t the type to pursue multiple men at once and had been excited to get a yes from him, so something had likely happened to change Shikkui’s own eligibility status. They tracked it back to Zookeeper, who said, “She realized we had something already. Why didn’t she tell you? Rude.”

And then there was no time for recovery before Dabi was helping someone else ask Hawks out.

“Oh, come on!” cried Natsuo.

“Stand up for your man, Dabi! Now’s the time!” said Rumi.

“He looks so uncomfortable,” Fuyumi sighed, because he did; for this whole discussion Dabi looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.

Hawks accepted the date, but not without looking toward Dabi as if asking for permission. Idiotic. Absolutely idiotic.

Cakes were thrown in fires.

People yelled at each other.

Hawks went on his date and avoided kissing Kashiko with the same obviousness Dabi had used to avoid Aiko on The Bachelorette. The date was kind of funny at the beginning—as the ‘author’ was explaining the plot of the story, it kept switching to people on the beach acting out the situations. Gentle was the only decent actor among them, and his dramatic I am unlovable! moment would surely win him whatever meme fame the internet hadn’t already given him. Unfortunately(?) from there the date only went downhill. The audience watched in rapt silence as Hawks tore Kashiko apart over dinner.

“Wow,” said Fuyumi. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Paradise date go that badly.”

“Yeah, usually they just get awkward,” said Yukina.

“He’s making points, though,” said Natsuo, squinting at the screen. “Not that the examples he’s using make a lot of sense, but—”

“The examples are Dabi,” said Rumi, leaning back with her arm slung over her eyes. “Those are all things Dabi did. He’s using Dabi as a standard.”

“Oh my god,” Natsuo groaned.

“It’s nice, though,” said Shouto, arms around his knees and eyes still fixed on the TV; Dabi had gone to comfort Hawks, and Hawks was looking at him like he’d hung the damn moon. “He recognizes what Dabi’s doing, even if he doesn’t know what it means.”

“If Hawks doesn’t make a move I’m going to fly there myself and ask Dabi out for him,” said Natsuo.

“Look at you, you’ve come so far!” Fuyumi laughed. “And to think you were so scandalized that I liked Team Hotwings a few months ago…”

“In my defense they’ve made it too obvious to ignore,” said Natsuo.

The rose ceremony happened without much drama. Sure, Kashiko took herself out of the running and Shikkui picked Zookeeper for some unfathomable reason, but the episode ended peacefully.

“I got Dabi!” Tatami said in her confessional. “Or… maybe I got Dabi? I’m thrilled that he picked me since he’s such a cool person, but I’m still not convinced that he picked me for me, if that makes sense? Team Hotwings? I’m so lost.”

Oh, how Natsuo sympathized with her.

“Well,” said Fuyumi, clapping her hands together as the credits started to roll, “we’ve got a cake of our own to be eating now! No throwing it in bonfires, okay?”

“Only a villain would do that,” said Shouto.

Speaking of villains… Natsuo pulled out his phone to see if there were any messages from the League. Toga’s contacts had been sporadic since The Bachelorette ended, but surely this new episode would have her more talkative again? Sure enough, he’d received a text:

WHEN WILL DABI SACRIFICE SOMEONE TO THE CRABS??? I NEED TO SEE IT.

This was interspersed with a small army of crab emojis.

Yeah, it would be a little shellfish if he did it offscreen, he texted back.

By this time Fuyumi had disappeared toward the kitchen again, and Bakugo broke the peace with, “So, you know that was your ‘dead’ brother, right?”

Yukina gasped. Rumi howled with incredulous laughter. Natsuo cried, “Dude! Really?”

Shouto, who’d barely blinked, replied, “Yes, we thought so. Please don’t say it in front of Fuyumi, though. She hasn’t come to terms with it.”

“Figured as much,” Bakugo scoffed.

“But that’s the way you chose to phrase it?” said Natsuo, very much not over it. “You decided to potentially break that kind of news to me like that?”

“Well you already f*cking knew, didn’t you? So it doesn’t matter,” said Bakugo.

“But if I hadn’t—”

“Bakugo is taking additional courses for sensitivity training in the field,” said Shouto.

“They don’t need to know that, asshole!” Bakugo snapped.

Shouto went on as if he hadn’t heard him: “Midoriya says that he’s highly empathetic but bad at conveying it, so that needs to be addressed before we start any real rescue operations. The collision of empathy and execution is probably what’s happening right now.” Something occurred to him, and he looked at Bakugo with renewed interest. “Were you paying attention during The Bachelorette, when Dabi went on a date rappelling down a building? I highly recommend that as a reference for de-escalation technique—”

“The Bachelorette is the opposite of a de-escalation!” Bakugo retorted. “It’s the f*cking antithesis!”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say antithesis out loud before,” said Rumi, resting her chin on her knuckles as she watched the teenagers squabble.

Natsuo opened his mouth to complain about their A+ delinquent guest, but hesitated. “You aren’t denying it.”

“Hm?” Rumi raised a brow.

“Dabi being our brother. You’re not rejecting it.”

“Nah.” Her lips pulled in a sad little smile. “Can’t say I’ve got real proof, but all the little things add up, you know? There’s only so many you can pass off as coincidences.”

“But…” Yukina’s eyes flicked to the door where Fuyumi had disappeared.

“You think it’s weird that I disagree with my girlfriend?” said Rumi. “The truth is that we haven’t brought up the topic at all. It’s… difficult, sometimes. But she spilled her heart out to me about him and your family, and I can see where she’s coming from. They found pieces of your brother at Sekoto Hill and a funeral’s been done, so his death is a fixed reality in her mind. It’s impossible for there to be another option; she can’t even bring herself to consider it without feeling like she’s betraying his memory. Trying to confront her about it would only kickstart her self-doubt, and when she spirals she latches on to what’s ‘unquestionable’ to try reorienting herself, and his death is one of those absolutes. So, it’s not an argument to be won. I think it’s going to be much better for her—for Hawks, too—if we can lay out clues that she can come across and connect herself. Once she’s come to her own conclusions she can approach us, and we’ll be ready to support her at that time. I don’t think it’s something we should rush.”

Natsuo nodded slowly. “You know shovel talks? I want to give you the opposite of a shovel talk. Thanks for stepping in for her. I always worried what kind of person Fuyumi would end up with, so it’s a real relief to know it’s someone who tries so hard to understand her feelings.”

Rumi laughed. “How can anyone look at Fuyumi and not want to spoil her?”

Bakugo made a retching sound. “I’m not sticking around for this sappy sh*t.”

He stormed off after Fuyumi. Meanwhile Shouto tipped his head back to look at the others and asked, “What’s a shovel talk?”

The rest of the evening was nice. The cake was good, of course; Bakugo aggressively asked for the recipe and was soon huddled with Fuyumi over her phone as she raved about different recipe websites and ingredient substitutions. Rumi chatted about weird behind the scenes hero things that Shouto took in with serious nods even when half of them seemed to be jokes. They all laughed about Dabi and Hawks some more and made predictions for the next episode.

“Oh, it’s getting late!” said Fuyumi, doing a double take at her phone’s clock. “You’ll have to get going if you all want to get back before the trains stop running. It was great having you over, though! We’ll have to do it again sometime soon. Everybody make sure to take some leftovers with you!”

The high schoolers left first, bickering away to the car where a chaperone was ready to pick them up. Rumi and Yukina detoured to find their jackets, leaving Natsuo and Fuyumi alone in the genkan. Fuyumi had been upbeat the whole night, but now she clutched her phone in both hands and hesitated.

“Natsu, do you, uh, know what Dad wants to talk about?”

“What he wants to what?” said Natsuo. “What are you talking about?”

“The text Dad sent earlier today. Didn’t you get it?” said Fuyumi.

Oh. Well.

“I blocked his number,” said Natsuo.

“You what?” Fuyumi winced at her own shrillness and glanced into the living room to confirm that hadn’t gained anyone’s attention before rounding on Natsuo again. “Why would you do that? What if there was an emergency?”

“If he had any information that concerned me, I’d be getting it from you or Shouto, so it doesn’t matter” said Natsuo. “Why, is he making excuses for missing dinner or something?”

“No,” said Fuyumi. “He said there was something really, really important that he has to tell us, but he can’t say it until he has all the details.”

“Okay,” Natsuo said slowly, “and this concerns me how?”

“He’s been acting a little weirdly the past few days,” said Fuyumi. “I can’t put my finger on it, but the way he talks and the way he typed this out… I think it has to do with our health or safety.”

Natsuo frowned. “That Ending guy broke out recently, but Rumi caught him before he could get anywhere near us, right?”

“Yes, but if it were a villain, wouldn’t he have already told us so we can keep an eye out, or gotten us some kind of protection?” said Fuyumi. “I’m really worried that it might have to do with Mom. If maybe she changed her mind and doesn’t want to leave the hospital yet, or maybe if she relapsed.”

Natsuo felt suddenly cold. “No way. She’s so close, there’s no way— And she didn’t say anything about that the last time we visited—”

“Maybe she’s ashamed of not being ready after so long? Or maybe it has nothing to do with her. I really don’t know, but I’m worried,” said Fuyumi.

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll unblock him. For now,” said Natsuo. “As soon as this is cleared up he’s blocked again.”

“Thank you,” said Fuyumi. “I’ll let you know if I find anything first.”

By this time their girlfriends had found their jackets and were hurrying back. Rumi gave Fuyumi a kiss that Natsuo pretended to be disgusted with, and they set out. They were a few blocks away when Natsuo realized his hands were empty.

“sh*t, I forgot the leftovers. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll wait right here,” said Rumi, shifting to lean against the bright windows of a convenience store.

Natsuo doubled back to the manor. He was about to enter the front gate when he balked and scurried back around the corner. Endeavor was back. Natsuo glared around the gate as Endeavor opened the front door, wondering if maybe it would be a better idea to circle around the back.

“Dad, you’re home!” chirped Fuyumi. She’d been organizing the slippers in the genkan but jumped up to greet him. “Welcome back! I’m sorry, but you’ve just missed everyone else. Miruko says hi, though, and Shouto left a form in your office for an upcoming event. It needs to be signed and uploaded to U.A.’s site by the end of next week. In the meantime, though, I’ll warm up some food! It went over really well with the others, so I’m sure— Dad?” Endeavor had stayed still and silent. As far as Natsuo knew that was normal, but Fuyumi tipped her head and frowned. “Are you okay?”

Endeavor’s voice came out in a rasp. “Fuyumi… May I hug you?”

What the hell?

Fuyumi remained confused but opened her arms. Endeavor wrapped her up in a tight hug. It was absurd; he was such a big man, Fuyumi still looked like a child in comparison. But even stranger, Endeavor began to shake.

“Dad? Really, if you’re hurt—”

Endeavor pulled back and took in a trembling breath. “I’m not hurt.”

“You’re starting to scare me,” said Fuyumi. “Did you just come off of a mission? Did your agency’s physician clear you to come home? I’ll call her right now—”

“It’s not that,” said Endeavor. “I can’t tell you right now. But soon. Soon.”

“It’s about that text?” Fuyumi guessed.

Endeavor nodded.

“Okay,” said Fuyumi. “Then I’ll wait.”

“I’m sorry,” said Endeavor.

“Don’t worry! I’m very good at being patient. And I know you’re trying,” said Fuyumi. “Now come in! I’ll catch you up to speed on all the drama, Bachelor and otherwise!”

Endeavor grunted his assent and moved inside. The door closed behind him, cutting off Fuyumi’s renewed rambling.

What had that been about?

“Excuse me, Sir, but this can’t be good for your eyes.”

Sir Nighteye’s fingers twitched. He lifted his head and realized that while he’d been poring over the information on his computer, the sun had set enough that his office went dark. Centipeder stood in the doorway, his expression caught between exasperation and pity.

“Shall I turn on the lights, Sir?”

“Please do,” said Nighteye.

He leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses and running a hand through his hair. Centipeder flicked on the lights, and he fought the urge to wince.

“Can those records not wait until tomorrow?” asked Centipeder.

“I’d prefer not,” said Nighteye. “Endeavor has given permission for us to view all the records from his H.P.S.C. ‘therapists’ and I want to get through them before he changes his mind.”

“You think he would?”

“I think it’s dreadfully personal.”

The computer screen displayed a much younger Endeavor in civilian clothing, his expression miserable. The date in the corner showed it to be twenty years ago: one of Endeavor’s first appointments and one of the few with video.

“Are you getting anything new from it?” said Centipeder.

“Not new so much as depth on what Endeavor already shared with Eraserhead and Present Mic. Everything lines up.” Nighteye put his glasses back on and heaved a long sigh. “It’s a disgusting piece of manipulation. The H.P.S.C. was specifically driving a rift through that family. They wanted Touya vulnerable. It’s clear that Endeavor didn’t want to go with their advice. He switched therapists five times just in that first year. What he didn’t realize was that every therapist assigned to him, no matter the ‘agency,’ were all in on the plot. And they kept working at him even after Touya was kidnapped.”

Centipeder stepped closer to the desk and studied the notes spilling out of the copious folders. “Isolation?”

“Exactly,” said Nighteye. “If they had Endeavor isolated from support from family and other heroes, then if he ever found the truth about what happened to Touya he wouldn’t be able to gather help. Besides, if the H.P.S.C. seemed like his only friendly support, Endeavor could be more easily manipulated by them in other things, too.” He shook his head. “To think that my complaints about his behavior were just confirmations that they’d done their job right…”

“More and more I start to think Lady Nagant may have had a point,” Centipeder murmured.

“Agreed. I don’t think her case is as black and white as the H.P.S.C. presented, either,” said Nighteye.

Centipeder looked back at the evidence boards that had only become more cluttered as the days went on. The VICTIMS OF LEGACY PROGRAM was building into the largest group already. “How many other heroes and their children do you think were manipulated this way? If the H.P.S.C. were so well-prepared for Endeavor, they must’ve had experience with others.”

“I think we’ll be years into this mess and still finding victims,” said Nighteye.

Centipeder sighed and shook his head. “I’m glad it’s at least coming to light now. Ah, Sir, the reason I came in…”

“More evidence?” Nighteye guessed.

“Potentially. Midoriya is here.”

Nighteye straightened with a frown. Midoriya hadn’t been to the agency since the planning of the Shie Hassaikai raid. After Sir Nighteye had been injured there was no way to properly support such an inexperienced intern, and with the danger of their current assignment he’d put off inviting the boy to return.

“He says that he has information to share with you, and that you would be the best to judge how it should be handled,” said Centipeder.

“All Might certainly never asked for help,” Nighteye muttered. “He is already improving beyond his idol. Very well, I’ll meet with him.”

“In here?” asked Centipeder, glancing at the boards again.

“Certainly not. I’ll speak with him in the break room.”

The break room was the only one not littered with evidence; even Mirio’s desk had been overtaken by inquiries into the League of Villains’ (and therefore Kurogiri’s) previous movements and Paragon Productions itself in case Dabi had any additional communications or assassination attempts. Mirio was also the one to have intercepted Midoriya at the door, and led him to the break room with smile wide and arms gesturing enough to obscure anything his body didn’t cover already.

“I’m sorry to come so late, especially when you seem so busy,” Midoriya said as they sat in the break room.

So he said, but he showed little nerves and made a point of making eye contact the way he did whenever he was ready to follow through on some scheme or declaration. Nighteye didn’t know the boy very well, but he was very familiar with that kind of look.

“I hear that you have information to give me,” said Nighteye. “Given the nature of our current assignment we may not be able to handle your request personally, but as naïve as you may be at times I know you are not frivolous. I will ensure your information goes to the right hands.”

“Thank you, Sir, that’s what I was hoping,” said Midoriya. “I-I know this is going to sound like a weird conspiracy theory, but I’ve been doing research and I think there’s truth in it. And if there is truth, especially with the connections I’ve made, this could— It could be bad. It doesn’t make sense, but—”

Midoriya bit his lip, struggling to word it in a way that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool. Nighteye said nothing, simply held out his hand. Midoriya quickly unzipped his backpack and handed over a thick folder.

“Um, you know, Sir, that I’m in the same class with Shouto Todoroki. I like to think we’re really close, and he’s told me some very personal things about his family.”

“About Endeavor?” Nighteye said sharply, even as he opened the folder. “The abuse of his family has just come to my attention. Regardless of excuses, Endeavor will face punishment for his actions, I will make sure of it.”

“Oh!” said Midoriya said, surprised. “You will? But he’s the Number One—”

“Ranking does not make a man immune to consequences,” said Nighteye. “His behavior has long been unbecoming of a hero, but now that we know the extent it will not be tolerated.”

Midoriya didn’t know what to say for a moment, but a smile slowly spread across his face. “Thank you, Sir! I’m really glad to hear that! It wasn’t what I came here for, though.”

Oh? Nighteye looked down at the open folder. On one side was clipped the photo of a white-haired boy in a middle school uniform, on the other a grown man with heavy scarring. They both had the same intensely blue eyes. But that wasn’t the only thing they had in common. Nighteye had seen both of these pictures before, but seeing them together highlighted similarities in the curve of their cheekbones, the shape of their noses.

“Mirio,” he said urgently, “bring up Victim G-21.”

Mirio hurriedly tapped through his work phone and handed it over. The screen showed the Bachelorette contestant Geten: a little-known member of the Himura family and Endeavor’s nephew. He held this picture up against Dabi’s and looked at it with new eyes.

“Shouto Todoroki believes that Dabi from The Bachelorette is his brother,” said Midoriya. “Touya Todoroki’s supposed to be dead, but Shouto and his brother Natsuo are convinced this is him, and from my research on Dabi’s actions and his appearance, I strongly believe them. None of us know how or why that could be, though, when there was supposed to be evidence of his death left behind on Sekoto Hill… I don’t know, but I believe it, and it gives me a really bad feeling. I don’t know what to do with this information, or who might’ve been trying to cover it up in the first place.”

Nighteye flipped through the rest of the folder. The kid did good research. Much of it matched up with the information on their evidence boards, though he hadn’t been privy to context enough to make many of the connections. His nervous scrawl came up with plenty of potentials, though, like All For One? Nomu that far back? Who can fool Endeavor and the H.P.S.C.?

He didn’t have the full truth, but he had enough to damn him if anyone else got wind of these notes.

Nighteye snapped the folder shut and said, “What you will do is withdraw from your internship at Endeavor’s agency.”

Midoriya’s brow furrowed but he nodded. “I’m required to have an internship though. Should I be applying to another agency specifically to follow up?”

“No need. I am giving you an offer right now,” said Nighteye. “What you’ve found is part of our ongoing investigation. It will be safer for you to be with us and accounted for, and besides,” he ticked up his glare into something a little more disapproving, “you would have tried to involve yourself in it regardless, wouldn’t you?”

“If it has to do with my friend, yes,” said Midoriya.

He was so proud of it that Mirio had to stifle a laugh.

Nighteye sighed. “This is a top-secret mission. Shouto Todoroki may have family ties, but don’t share any of the information with him. He could become a target too if we’re not careful.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll do my best,” said Midoriya.

“Good,” said Nighteye, standing up again. “You’ve come late enough that I doubt you’ll be able to make it all the way back to U.A. before the trains stop running. I’ll call Eraserhead to let him know where you are, and you and Mirio can stay in our agency accommodations for the night.”

“Don’t worry, it’s really comfortable!” said Mirio. “I’ve stayed over or taken naps here plenty of times, and Sir always makes a point to get us spare clothes in case we need them. We’ve got some for you boxed up, it may not fit well but it’s better than wearing your uniform to sleep. And hey, I can start filling you in on what’s been going on! It’s super messed up, but that’s why we’re on the case! Come here, this way, I’ll show you around!”

As they left the break room, Nighteye sent Eraserhead a text: You were right, your class is full of problem children.

Chapter 4: Birds of a Feather

Chapter Text

When Dabi crawled out of bed the next morning he was faced with a package.

A straight-up cardboard Yamato Transport box. He glared at the black cat on the side with extreme suspicion because this was not standard Paradise procedure. He didn’t think so, anyway. Truth be told the League hadn’t watched Paradise as often as the main series so he was mostly flying blind. Still. Its placement next to his bed was anything but innocent.

Dabi inspected the box from three different angles before gingerly picking it up. It was kind of big but not exactly heavy. He shook it. Something thunked against the sides but it didn’t sound breakable. Satisfied that it wouldn’t blow up in his face, he tucked it under one arm and made for the palapa.

Breakfast was in full swing by the time he arrived, and so was the drama. X and Kuin were butting heads over having chosen very similar bikinis for the day. Similar. Not the same. Even someone oblivious to fashion as Dabi could determine that much. The others looked on with eyebrows raised in intrigue or otherwise expressions of long suffering. Hawks of course noticed him first and said, “Dabi! You’re finally here! Do you know how to play poker? Because some of us were thinking of setting up a game tonight—"

Dabi was ninety percent certain this would devolve into strip poker and wanted no part of it.

He was rescued from this terrible future by Tatami looking up and (desperate for a distraction) calling, “What have you got there, Dabi?”

“Don’t know.” Dabi set the box down at the edge of the table, catching everyone else’s attention. “It was next to my bed.”

“Is there a label?” asked Gentle.

“Looks like it got pulled off,” said La Brava, squinting at the top flap. “Somebody’s opened it already.”

“Do you think it has something to do with the date? Is the date card inside?” said Amplifier, clapping her hands in excitement. “Does this mean Dabi got the date card?”

Dabi sure as hell hoped not. Zookeeper was giving him the unblinking sort of look Toga only sported in extreme blood withdrawal and tended to precede a mauling.

“Dabi,” said Hawks. He had his cheek propped on his knuckles, smiling but in a halfway-pitying, halfway amused way. “Did you think about maybe opening it?”

“I figured it was Paradise bullsh*t. Aren’t we supposed to do that as a group?” said Dabi.

“Open it,” said Hawks.

Frowning, Dabi did. He lifted the flaps and studied the inside. Squinted. Turned a glower on the hero.

“The f*ck is this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” said Hawks.

“Why would you—"

“Well what is it?” Cider demanded.

When Dabi hesitated Amplifier leaned in and pulled out one of the items. It was a boot. Galoshes, really. But while the pair on Dabi’s feet were a plain and unassuming black, these were bright blue and patterned with cartoon ducks wearing raincoats.

“Oh my god, it’s so cute!” said Amplifier. “Why can I never find cute boots like this in my size?”

While the others clamored between appreciation and exasperation that the morning has been overtaken by BOOTS when our BIKINIS are the ones deserving of spotlight, Dabi kept his attention on Hawks.

“You got me some for every episode didn’t you?”

Hawks was completely unrepentant. He lounged back with a grin. “I got you some for every episode.”

Eventually Dabi managed to retrieve the new boots and swap them with his old ones. He didn’t know whether to be touched or annoyed to find they fit perfectly.

Before conversations could spiral further out of hand, Sato made his appearance.

“Good morning, everyone! How are you all doing?”

They all responded positively as the cameras and boom mics gathered around them.

“I’m here to greet you for this next phase of Paradise,” said Sato. “I’m sure last night was nerve-wracking for most of you, which only makes sense. The first rose ceremony in Paradise is always a little peculiar. Everyone’s still feeling their way through this and figuring out where they stand: who’s real and who’s not, who’s here looking for love and who’s here looking for a good time. But the key is that you did survive it. You’re all before me now ready for a new segment and new challenges. Here in Paradise you should always expect change, and one of those changes is on its way right now. From here on, new arrivals will be coming to the beach to seek love with the rest of you. Keep in mind that this week it’s the women who’ll be giving out the roses. Men, if you aren’t in a relationship and don’t receive a rose at the upcoming ceremony, you’ll be going home. Be sure to make the most of the time you have on the beach. I’ll see you at the rose ceremony.”

With that speech over, Sato departed again.

“New arrivals!” said Mongoose, excited. “I wonder who it could be. Does anyone have any guesses?”

“Maybe Serpenters!” said Chikuchi. “Like, I know that’s a set of twins, but two people can come at the same time, and if La Brava and Aiko could pull off the twin thing, why can’t some men—”

“Mmm, twins,” Kuin said with a leer.

“Or maybe Mr. Plastic! He’s a hunk,” said X.

“Plastic for the fake celebrity? Fitting,” said Kuin.

Needless to say, breakfast was unpleasant. Dabi did his best to tune everyone out as he ate, but even when everyone was done, they lingered. The breakfast area was, after all, the best place to see anyone coming down the stairs from the resort’s main entrance.

The man who finally made an appearance had an obvious heteromorphic quirk. He was entirely covered in brown feathers, with massive wings, a beak, and hands resembling avian claws.

“Hello, everyone!” he called. “I’m Takahiro!”

Taka-what? Hadn’t that been Hawks’ alias when meeting with the Iidas? Dabi glanced between Hawks and the newcomer, noting their similarities. Tatami leaned close to him and whispered, “He’s from two seasons ago on The Bachelorette, got almost halfway through before he got sent on a two-on-one date with the villain of the season. He was nice but the villain manipulated her into thinking he was a misogynist when the villain was the misogynist and Takahiro was calling him out. He got sent home that day and it’s been a Bachelor Nation grudge ever since.”

Sure enough the women clamored for him. Takahiro laughed, “I’m happy to meet you all, too! I’ve got a date card here, let me read it out loud… Choose someone to accompany you on a date tonight. Make a wish upon a star.”

Everyone oohed.

“I want to get an idea of what’s going on here first before I ask anyone out,” he said, which was logical. “Amplifier, could we talk?”

“Gladly!” said Amplifier, leaping up from her seat, and followed him away into the trees.

“Another avian quirk!” Hawks whispered, eyes bright. “Do you think he’d talk about preening tips or would that be too personal?”

“I don’t know, do you think it’s personal?” said Dabi.

“I suppose, if you have another person doing it,” Hawks mused. “If you have wings there are a lot of feathers at the base that are hard to get your hands on, so it’s kind of like a trust exercise to get help where you’re so vulnerable. I’ve never had to worry about that since I can just pull out and reorganize my feathers at will, and float one back there when new ones are coming in and getting all itchy. I am my own backscratcher.”

Dabi snorted. “Then why bother asking?”

“There’s a little more to it than arranging feathers, you know!” Hawks’ smile dimmed, and his voice got quieter. “My quirk’s so weird, it doesn’t quite fit into any of the known categories. That’s worked great for me as a hero and in taking care of myself on my own, but the more I learn about how regular people do it, the more I feel kind of… jealous. There’s a level of care and community that they— I don’t want to say take for granted, but it’s normal for them. And I’ve never had it, or had anyone there to teach it to me. I guess I want to learn it.”

Dabi’s treacherous brain wanted to make the offer. He knew nothing about preening and would probably f*ck Hawks’ wings up even more, but he had the sudden, visceral desire to be close to Hawks’ back and running fingers through his feathers. He shook his head to clear it and said roughly, “Does this mean you’re going to be gossip buddies?”

“Gossip buddies? Where did that come from?” Hawks laughed.

“Wings that big probably take a while to work on. I’m picturing girls doing each other’s hair or nails, except it’s you working on each other’s wings.”

“Maybe? You’ll always be my favorite gossip buddy, though.”

If Dabi was a little too pleased with that, no one had to know.

Takahiro talked to three separate women before returning and saying, “Dabi, can we talk?”

Dabi was only mildly surprised. Hadn’t he given himself a reputation for being brutally honest? Takahiro was probably doing his best to avoid a Zookeeper. Smart man. “Sure,” he said, and followed Takahiro to the beach.

“Okay,” said Takahiro as they meandered down the sand, “so I think I know the strong relationships here, but I want to make sure I’ve got it right. Zookeeper is enamored with Shikkui—”

“If by enamored you mean creepily obsessed,” Dabi grumbled.

“Nagamasa and Fuwa are going strong.”

“Yeah, they went on a date and seem to have hit it off.”

“Cider and Itejuro are both focused on Kuin.”

“Tsutsutaka was the same at first but seems to have met his match with Chikuchi, who you should never be involved with because she throws cakes in fires.”

Takahiro laughed. “Noted! As for the others, they’re paired up but not feeling particularly strong with each other?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah.”

“Not even you and Hawks?”

Dabi scowled. “What about me and Hawks?”

“You seem… close,” said Takahiro.

“Yeah, he doesn’t treat me like a walking infection and I don’t kiss his ass. It’s more valuable than you’d think.”

“But you’re not together?”

What was it with everyone assuming he and Hawks were a thing? Dabi took a measured breath and said flatly, “As I told all the girls a few days ago, I am not dating Hawks. He is out of my league.”

Takahiro gave him a quizzical look but said, “Okay. And you and Tatami?”

“She’s cool but we’re not exclusive. She’d probably go with you if you asked.”

Takahiro nodded determinedly, like he’d come to a decision. “Okay. Then, uh, could I show you something I’ve been working on?”

“Sure?” said Dabi.

“Good! Stay right there,” said Takahiro, and took flight.

As he went higher and higher, the other competitors came down to investigate.

“What’s he doing?” asked Hawks, tipping his head in confusion.

“Don’t know. He wanted my opinion on something he worked on,” said Dabi.

High above them Takahiro circled a few times, judging the terrain, then shifted into a complicated flight routine. He went up high, banked, and did fast, twisting dives so low that when he pulled up the tips of his feathers caught the saltwater, and up he’d go again for more spins, dives, and whip-fast turns. Dabi shaded his eyes to track him.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Does he do this as a job? He’s good at it.”

Hawks watched closely too, but his feathers were ruffled. “It’s complicated, I guess. For a civilian, anyway. I’ve got a lot more practice.”

Come to think of it, cameras had caught plenty of rescues where Hawks dove at bullet speed, wove through falling debris, and used near impossible evasive maneuvers in a fight. It had just never occurred to Dabi to be more than normally impressed when they were in those smaller pieces. When Takahiro put them all together it looked like a dance. One liable to get him killed if he misjudged the waves, but yeah, pretty cool. He said as much to Hawks, who frowned deeper.

“I could do it better. Want me to prove it?”

“Not right now,” said Dabi. “He’s showing off for whoever he wants to ask out. Interrupting would ruin it.”

“But I could do it better!” said Hawks.

Dabi tore his eyes away from the aerial display to scowl at him. “Of course you could. That’s why I’m saying not to do it right now. Don’t embarrass the newbie.”

That mollified Hawks for whatever reason, but he didn’t relax until Takahiro flew back to shore.

“That was so cool!” squealed Mongoose, running up to mob him along with the other women.

“It was so scary when you got so close to the water—”

“Can you fly carrying me next time?”

Takahiro seemed happily surprised by the attention, but still he looked over the women’s heads and called, “Dabi, did you like it?”

“It was pretty cool,” Dabi replied.

All of Takahiro’s feathers fluffed up.

“Oh, sh*t, what kind of reaction is that?” Dabi muttered.

“A dumb one you don’t need to worry about,” Hawks growled. “Come over this way. I have something to show you.”

Dabi was weirded out by this sudden foul mood but followed Hawks back up the stairs.

It turned out that Hawks wanted to show him where all the hidden mounted cameras were. Dabi had already known about them—it was hard to miss their little lights—but every time he said, “I already saw this one,” Hawks would shrug it off and drag him to another, jabbering about things he’d picked up with his feathers that had surely been caught on film by this one or that one. Weirder still, their path to these cameras wasn’t straightforward. Hawks would pick out one, hurry them along, and then backtrack later to the same rooms. At one point he pulled Dabi off the path, into thick greenery, and had him stoop down.

Dabi spat a fern out of his mouth and said, “There’s no way in hell there’s a camera in here. It wouldn’t catch sh*t.”

“Oh, no, we’re not looking for a camera now. We’re scouting for wildlife for Prey,” said Hawks.

“Really?” Prey said from the path; he’d been following them the whole time.

“Really! You said the producers love animal shots,” said Hawks.

“They do,” said Prey, and clambered in after them.

They found six crabs and a gecko. Prey was understandably more intrigued by the gecko. It was around noon when Tatami came to find them.

“Aw, that’s cute,” she said when she saw Prey recording the gecko in Dabi’s cupped hands. “I wondered where you’d run off to.”

“Did we miss anything?” said Dabi.

“Well, Takahiro’s date was scheduled for this afternoon. He tried to put off picking someone until the last minute, but ended up taking X.”

“How nice!” Hawks said brightly.

“Why are you suddenly so perky?” said Dabi.

“No reason,” said Hawks.

“We were all gathering for lunch and wanted to know if you two wanted to join us,” said Tatami. “It looks like Sato managed to get cupcakes to replace the cake that got ruined, but I’m not sure how long they’ll hold up in the heat. Eating them sooner might be better.”

“We’ll head back now,” said Dabi. “Just let me wash my hands and I’ll be right there.”

By the time they arrived at the food building most of the others were halfway done with their meals, and Sato was just leaving.

“I really am sorry,” he was saying.

“It’s fine. My day wasn’t ruined,” Claire Voyance replied. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Still…”

“Stop beating yourself up about something that isn’t your fault.”

True, the cake destruction had been Chikuchi’s fault; she and Tsutsutaka were conspicuously missing. Dabi beelined for the cupcakes, glancing around for any sign of sabotage. He was able to steal one away to what was becoming his habitual seat without issue. The cupcake didn’t look bad, but it didn’t hold a candle to the delicious promise of the original cake. Dabi only realized he was scowling at it when Hawks set a bowl of stir fried bitter melon in front of him.

“Don’t forget to eat the real meal,” he said in amusem*nt, sitting down in the next chair with his own food.

“Oh. Thanks,” said Dabi.

“Don’t mention it,” said Hawks. “Have you tried this yet? It’s got these pieces of melon in with the pork and tofu, it’s supposed to be really popular here and help keep you cool…”

It turned out to be pretty good.

Claire Voyance successfully drove off Sato (she shoved a cupcake into his hands and said, “If you want me to have a good birthday week, just let it go.”) and they all settled into a peaceful lull. But this was Paradise. “Peace” and “Paradise” didn’t belong in the same sentence.

In came Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka. Both of them seemed overly smug and overly touchy with each other. They placed their orders at the window and stepped back to wait; this brought them closer to Dabi, who hunched protectively over his cupcake. Chikuchi didn’t make a grab for it but definitely noticed. Her eyes were on Dabi as she leaned dramatically against Tsutsutaka’s chest and said way too loudly, “Oh, baby, you were so good.”

Tsutsutaka squeezed her ass and looked all the more superior. They kept being blatantly gross until their food was ready and they went to sit at another table, practically in each other’s laps. For some reason Chikuchi kept glancing at Dabi as if eager for him to see her proving a point. Why? Did she think proving herself to be a lovey-dovey idiot would make him take back his vow of eternal hatred? No amount of awkward voyeurism would bring back that poor cake and she better not try. It turned out to be a more widespread Paradise political move.

“Oh my god!” Amplifier gasped a few minutes of gossip later, “you two were just in the Boom Boom Room?”

The what.

Immediately the couple became the center of attention, and both were far too pleased.

“First to the Boom Boom Room!” Cider cackled, high fiving Tsutsutaka. “Nice, breaking it in—”

“How was it?” said Kuin, flushed and excited, clustering around Chikuchi with half of the other women.

Dabi glanced between them all, piecing together the context. The “Boom Boom Room” was a euphemism. Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka had strolled in to announce they’d f*cked at the top of their lungs, to shift attention from Chikuchi’s embarrassment about the cake. It was effective, but damn. Really? Was this normal in Paradise? Dabi looked on in muted horror as the thinly-veiled conversations went on, and the pair departed with their own little entourages to go into further detail in ‘private.’

“Holy sh*t,” Dabi whispered to himself. “How is this real…”

“It’s hard to think it’s started already,” Hawks agreed. “I wonder who’ll be in the Boom Boom Room next.”

“Seriously? You’re calling it that too?”

“What?” Hawks blinked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“The Boom Boom Room,” Dabi spat. “Sounds f*cking juvenile. Boom Boom Room. Just say they’re f*cking.”

Hawks bit back a smile. “But that’s literally what it’s called.”

“What?” said Dabi, horrified.

“Yeah, it’s a specified room here in the resort, and for every season of Bachelor in Paradise, it’s been technically named The Boom Boom Room. No nickname. No slang. That’s what it’s called.”

Dabi dragged his hands down his face. “Of f*cking course it is. I should’ve guessed that from this show. Fantasy Suites and f*cking Boom Boom Rooms. Of course.”

“I think it’s a good thing to have around,” said Tatami, spearing a chunk of melon with her fork. “Sex is going to be part of your life, right? If you’re looking for a life partner, you want to make sure the sex is good.”

“So you want to end up with the guy with the best dick,” Cider sneered.

“f*ck off, seltzer boy,” Dabi snapped.

“You f*ck off, matchstick,” said Cider.

Tatami rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about talent—like, yeah, you don’t want to be stuck with someone who’s terrible at it I guess, but more than that I think it’s important to make sure you’re not dealing with an asshole. There was that Bachelor season… three years ago, now? One of the girls was head over heels for him, but the morning after the Fantasy Suite, she hated his guts. Nobody knows what went on in there but it must’ve been horrible, and the way he just shrugged off her discomfort afterward… Everyone thought he was an easygoing, cheerful guy, but that was a big red flag that showed us his lack of respect and empathy. You want to make sure that when you’re committing to someone, you know that they’ll treat you well even at your most vulnerable.”

“Okay, but why would anyone go to the f*cking— f*ck, I’m not going to say that out loud again. It’s so hot out here already, why would anyone risk making themselves hotter and sweatier?” said Dabi.

“I heard it’s really not that bad. The room has air conditioning,” said Tatami.

Holy sh*t, air conditioning? Dabi had half a mind to ask Tatami if she wanted to go in there and pretend they’d had sex just to enjoy the cold. But no. There were way too many reasons that would be a bad idea. Them supposedly having sex would kick up the drama. They’d be laying on sheets that might still have Tsutsutaka and Chikuchi’s mess on them. They’d eventually have to leave the air conditioning and suffer readjusting to the heat. Still. It was so tempting.

“Hey, Hawks?” Misty called, poking her head around the corner. “Could you come this way for a second? We want to do a confessional with you once you’re done eating.”

“Sure, I’ll be right there,” said Hawks.

Cider also took this as a cue to depart, leaving Dabi and Tatami alone. They moved off in search of more comfortable seating and settled on a couch near the pool. There they fell into easy conversation, because Tatami was an easy person to talk to. Dabi was feeling pretty good about his choices and confident that Tatami would be keeping him in the running at the next rose ceremony, and of course that complacency meant everything was about to blow up in his face.

The topic had somehow gone back around to laughing about the “oh-no-she-copied-my-bikini” argument from earlier, and Paradise fashion at large. They talked about Gentle’s truly fashionable wardrobe. About what shoes would best protect them from a surprise crab attack. About whether Hawks and Takahiro’s fashion choices had anything to do with how insufferably hot their wings probably made them. It was all fine! And then Dabi f*cked it up. He wasn’t sure exactly how—a quick mental review didn’t allow him to pinpoint what words exactly prompted it, she’d brought up some sundress she’d recently bought and he thought he’d made a perfectly diplomatic response—but Tatami reeled back with wide eyes and said, “Have you sister-zoned me?”

“Have I what?” said Dabi. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is! You sister-zoned Aiko hardcore on The Bachelorette,” Tatami insisted.

He absolutely had not. Unless… No, he hadn’t been romantically interested in her at all, but there was no way he’d consider her a sister like Fuyumi… or a gremlin like Toga… or an easily impressionable family member like his mother… who he had constantly been comparing her to… f*ck. While his brain was still reeling, Tatami leaned closer again, determined now.

“You haven’t wanted to kiss me at all,” she said.

“Excuse me for having an easily damaged face,” Dabi retorted.

“You haven’t checked out my ass or my boobs, and I know I picked this top for a reason,” said Tatami. She pushed up her breasts to emphasize the skimpy bikini top and Dabi instinctively averted his gaze. “Look! See?”

“Excuse me for having some f*cking manners!” said Dabi.

“I bet you wanted to invite me to the Boom Boom Room just for an excuse to get some air conditioning.” He… didn’t have a retort for that. Embarrassment rushed up the back of his neck and must’ve been visible on his face, too, because Tatami fell back again, laughing. “Oh my god, I was right! I totally called it!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Dabi grumbled.

She managed to get control of herself quickly, but she still wore a sharp smile as she said, “It’s not really what I was hoping for, but it’s clear you didn’t do this for any kind of scheme. Were you hoping someone else would come in the later weeks? Just… getting roses to see if someone good would come along later?”

“No,” said Dabi. “I’m not really…”

He shifted uncomfortably. f*ck. He wasn’t here for love, but he wasn’t here to hurt anyone either, and Tatami’s smile had dimmed at her guess. He hated that. He had f*cking sister-zoned her, what the f*ck.

“When I got picked for The Bachelorette, my roommates drilled me on the main series and its components, but when it comes to anyone beyond that, I don’t know sh*t. I don’t follow anybody on Twitter or Instagram or whatever. All the contestants are cardboard cutouts for all I know until I meet them in person. So no. There’s no one I’d be looking forward to. This is just… difficult for me.”

Tatami nodded slowly. “I don’t mean it as an insult, but… does it have to do with that ‘easily damaged face’?”

Dabi crossed his arms to keep from fidgeting. “You can just say it. I’m ugly.”

“You are not,” said Tatami.

Dabi raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Do you know how many people call me in as a villain if I so much as go grocery shopping without a mask?”

“That says a lot more about them than it does about you,” Tatami said firmly. “Hawks was right about your looks, you know? Anybody who takes the time to really look at you can tell you’re attractive.”

“A shame when no one takes that time,” Dabi grumbled.

“Look, I get it,” said Tatami, with only the ghost of a smile now. She rubbed at the back of her neck, eyes downcast. “Not to the extent you do, but… I’ve always been the unattractive girl. Everywhere I go, I’m outshined by everyone else in the room. I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. If I’m lucky I get to be a steppingstone for someone who’s looking at another girl the whole time. And it hurts, to have people constantly pass over you, or when they lie and say you’re not attractive. It’s taken… a lot of work, and a lot of therapy even, for me to be able to look in the mirror and say I’m worth the space I’m taking up, and I deserve to be happy. So I get it. Putting yourself out there can be terrifying. Loving someone, and risking yourself emotionally? That’s even worse sometimes.”

“You at least gave yourself the possibility,” said Dabi, glaring down at his arms.

“What does that mean?” asked Tatami.

He didn’t really want to say, but she’d already bared her own fears. He couldn’t just let that go unreciprocated and let her believe he was just another one of those assholes using her.

“When I was a kid, my quirk hurt me,” he said, very, very quietly. “I couldn’t control it. It got worse with emotions. When I was sad, or angry, or even happy, I’d burn and burn and couldn’t stop. It was survival to shut everything down. So now, I don’t… I feel things and I don’t know what they are.”

Tatami reached out. Gently she pulled one of Dabi’s hands free and linked their fingers together.

“Did I at least help you figure some of those things out?” she said softly.

“Sister-zoning, apparently,” Dabi snorted.

The smile returned to her face.

“For real,” she said, knocking their shoulders together. “You’re cool, Dabi. Somebody’s going to be really lucky to have you in the future, whether it’s in Paradise or not. In the meantime, can we keep hanging out? Maybe I can help with that whole emotion thing, but if it’s too complicated you can tell me to get lost.”

“I say this from a purely platonic and aesthetic position, but you are by far the best woman on this beach,” said Dabi. “Don’t leave me with the others. All the drama has gone to their brains.” And, because it occurred to him, “You said earlier that you were hoping someone specific would show up in Paradise. Who were you thinking about?”

Tatami tugged self-consciously at her earring. “It’s someone out of my league, so it’s not like I have a chance with him even if he does arrive.”

“If it’s possible that he might not even be here, what does it matter?” said Dabi.

Tatami shrugged. “It’s… well… Have you heard of Yo Shindo?”

“No,” Dabi said bluntly.

“I guess that tracks,” Tatami snorted. “Well, Shindo’s considered a series villain. He’s got a really strong earthquake quirk, but it’s powerful enough to cause damage to him, too, so his dreams of going into heroics stopped early and he’s always been a little bitter about that.”

Dabi gave a sympathetic wince. He could relate.

“A lot of people call him two faced because he’ll approach people he doesn’t like with a lot of politeness and then sh*t talk them behind their backs, and… let’s just say he has some strong opinions. It got pretty divisive on his season, to the point it was him against the rest of the mansion. I went to my first Bachelor Nation reunion a few months ago and he found me alone at one point. Let me tell you, I was terrified… But he sat me down and told me that everything I’d said to my bachelor was true.” She drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees, a slight smile on her face. “That whole night I’d been avoided. I was a laughingstock of half the group, and the ones who would talk to me all let me know I’d handled my season badly. But Shindo told me there was no reason for me to apologize. That it was the Bachelor who’d treated me wrong, and I deserved way better. It meant a lot to me. We spent the rest of the reunion competing over the games they had at the place Paragon rented out. I beat him in skee-ball. He was a lot of fun to be around. I regretted not asking for his number, and I promised myself that if he came here, I’d make a move. Whether I’d actually follow through on that is a whole other matter, though. I’m sure I’d chicken out.”

“If he spent a whole night hanging out with you I’d say there’s a foundation to work with. No need for chickening out,” said Dabi.

“Yeah. Yeah! I should have more confidence!” said Tatami. “He told me that himself so it’s got to be true!”

So, yeah, Dabi’s plans for staying with Tatami through the rose ceremony had just imploded, but that could’ve been a lot worse so he took this interaction as a win. If anything this had stripped away some lingering suspicion from their interactions. He hadn’t even realized how significant that had been until he saw how much more relaxed the both of them were. Overall he had a pretty decent, relaxing day. This couldn’t last forever, though.

As evening closed in, everyone moved down to the beach for another bonfire.

The atmosphere was tense— some kind of drama had gone down out of Dabi’s sight and several couples seemed to be in contention.

Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka’s smarmy attitudes had evaporated because they’d agreed to share way too much information about their little tryst to gain attention, and then got mad at each other for following through.

Kuin was being overly flirty and critical of the other women in the same breath, with Itejuro and Cider hanging on her every word in the few moments they weren’t bickering with each other.

Nagamasa seemingly stayed in bed all day due to the heat, which left Fuwa sadly alone in the group. Shikkui had wanted to cheer her up but Zookeeper took that as a personal offence, told him she’d handle it, and walked over to Fuwa to say, “Get over yourself. We’re trying to have fun.” Obviously this was a sh*tty move that brought several others to Fuwa’s defense.

Dabi snapped a stick in half again and again until the pieces were half the length of his thumb. From there he’d use his quirk to light a little piece on fire, then flick it into the logs. The whole bonfire flickered blue for a split second before dying down again. Hawks watched, and every time a stick landed would say things like, “score,” “touchdown,” or “Yahtzee.”

Everyone was ready for a distraction when Takahiro and X returned from their date.

“Hey!” cried Tatami, waving. “How’d it go?”

“It was great,” said X, and proceeded to recount the date.

Dabi was far more preoccupied with tracking another crab (it was scuttling fast away from the bonfire and had someone’s stolen shoelace held tight in one pincer), and as his head turned to follow it, he caught sight of someone else further down the beach. He squinted to try making out who it was—too skinny to be Sato, not carrying equipment to be part of the crew—and the mystery was solved when Inasa jumped up and bellowed, “ROMERO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“Looking for a date, what do you think?” the newcomer snickered, loping into the firelight. He was tall with bluish hair, stooped like some kind of sneaking predator. When he smiled the very notion seemed snide.

“Why do I not like him?” Dabi muttered.

“He’s got a reputation for being kind of rude,” said Tatami.

“Welcome to Paradise, Romero!” said Amplifier. “Do I spy a date card in your hand?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” Romero held it up and read aloud, “Choose someone to pamper in Paradise.” The trend from here would be to stop and talk to the available options to narrow down the best date, but Romero did not. He immediately said, “La Brava, you should go with me.”

La Brava gaped for a moment, then excitement rushed in: she straightened, even her pigtails somehow getting perkier as her eyes sparkled.

“Yes!” she cried. “Yes, of course I’ll go with you!”

“Why do I not like this?” said Dabi.

“I don’t like it either,” said Tatami.

But Paradise didn’t care what they liked. Romero sat down on the log next to La Brava, and she scooted even closer to chat with him in a much brighter tone than she’d used with anyone else.

Day five of Paradise dawned hotter than any of the days before.

Hawks rose for his morning flight, but instead of his habitual loops he flew straight to Majestic.

“You let someone breach the airspace,” he said, arms folded over his chest.

For his part, Majestic only looked amused. “All participants are evaluated for their potential risks but also for their needs. As an avian heteromorph capable of flight, especially with his particular physiology, indeed, it would be considered cruelty to forbid Takahiro from the sky. Paragon Productions has sensibly reevaluated and expanded the sphere that participants are allowed to access.”

“He should be able to fly, sure, but the height he reached is excessive,” said Hawks.

“Oh? You believe Paradise participants should be limited to something like two hundred feet off the ground?”

“Exactly!”

Majestic grinned. “In that case, participant Hawks, you are out of bounds. I’ll accompany you to the ground and—”

“You’re not funny,” Hawks grumbled.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” said Majestic. “It’s funny for sure, but not a good look.”

“I’m not jealous!” said Hawks. “What’s there to be jealous of? Dabi’s straight. Takahiro could do the most perfect sky dance in history and it wouldn’t matter because Dabi’s not attracted to him.”

“I agree with one of those points,” said Majestic, “but I have to wonder… What has you so convinced that Dabi is straight?”

“Well— I mean, look at what’s going on! He’s on a Bachelor show!” said Hawks.

“Yes, where at least two other male participants on the Bachelor show are showing interest in dating him,” said Majestic.

Hawks felt a stab of fear. “Two? Since when— Who’s the other one? I’ve only seen Takahiro!”

“You,” Majestic said flatly.

“…That doesn’t count,” said Hawks.

Majestic shook his head, exasperated. “Look, I’m not a great reference on romance or anything, but do you really think Dabi’s off limits or is that just a nice excuse for you?”

“What do you mean by that?” said Hawks, confused.

He didn’t get an answer, because it was now what Majestic’s radio crackled to life: “Requesting Squad C at rendezvous point eighty-six, we’ve got some tourists not taking no for an answer.”

“That’s my cue,” said Majestic.

“Now? Hey, don’t go without explaining—”

“It’s really self-explanatory. Just think about it,” said Majestic, and flew off.

Hawks heaved a heavy sigh and carried on with his exercise.

Halfway through his route he gained another visitor— Takahiro was going for his own morning flight, and went high enough that they were almost side by side. Hawks scowled. He could hardly believe he’d been excited to see Takahiro at one point. Right now he wished Takahiro would lose the updraft and flounder. Judging by the way Takahiro watched Hawks from the corner of his eye, he felt the same way. They flew a few moments in tense silence before Hawks lost patience and picked up speed. Takahiro flapped harder to keep pace. Hawks sped up even more. So did Takahiro. Hawks tucked in his wings and rolled, close enough that Takahiro startled out of the way. He plunged low before snapping open his wings just above the waves and veering toward the beach, fast and sharp enough to put the whole of yesterday’s aerial display to shame. A glance over his shoulder showed Takahiro scowling, and Hawks grinned his own vindication.

He returned to the resort and hurried to the food area. He sent a feather back toward the bedrooms at the same time. Judging by the vibrations the other men were getting ready for the day, but while Dabi’s breathing indicated he was awake he wasn’t moving from the bed. How typical.

“Hey, Hawks,” said Fuwa. She was eating alone and perked up at the promise of company.

“How are you this morning?” said Hawks.

“I’m pretty good. A little worried about the weather, though. The producers said it’s supposed to be sunny all day.”

“Oh? Not looking for a tan?” said Hawks.

Fuwa giggled. “Not really, no! More than that, though, I’m worried about Nagamasa. You saw he didn’t come out much yesterday, right?”

“That’s right. He didn’t even make it to the bonfire after sundown. Is he feeling okay?” said Hawks.

“He’s having trouble with the heat,” said Fuwa. “We’ve been working hard to keep him cool and hydrated, but it doesn’t seem to be working as well as we’d hoped. Yesterday he was so uncomfortable he barely talked.”

“Not the Paradise you expected, huh,” Hawks said, sympathetic.

“I—I’m really not complaining,” said Fuwa. “Nagamasa is really sweet and fun to talk to when he’s well enough to talk. I just wish he felt better.”

“Maybe ask the producers if he can spend some time in the Boom Boom Room? Not for, like, the obvious, but for the AC? When it comes to someone’s health Paragon has to be more flexible.”

“That’s what La Brava suggested,” Fuwa said with a wry smile. “She talked with me a little before she and Romero left for their date this morning. Misty’s actually talking to Nagamasa about it right now. I hope it helps.”

Fuwa ducked her head as more people arrived to eat. Mongoose sat beside her to keep her some better company and, reassured, Hawks drifted toward the ordering window. He just needed the perfect moment… Through his scouting feather he heard Dabi shift. He was getting out of bed. Perfect! Hawks hustled all the way up to the window and ordered, “Eggs on rice, please. Give it all the toppings!”

“I’ll also have egg on rice. Same treatment.”

Hawks had been so fixated on the feather he hadn’t noticed Takahiro coming up behind him. They held each other’s gaze, scowling.

“Oh sh*t, bird on bird rivalry,” Cider laughed.

“Add another bird and maybe we can call it a murder,” Kuin snickered.

“Uh, that’s, uh, un-pheasant?” Itejuro tried.

“Dude, that sucked,” said Cider.

“It didn’t! Kuin liked it! Didn’t you, Kuin?” said Itejuro.

“You’re both funny,” said Kuin.

Dabi was on the move. Hawks’ feather followed him out the bedroom door, tracking his progress. Hawks drummed his fingers on the countertop, growing impatient. The staff weren’t moving slow but it sure seemed like an eternity before the bowl was set down in front of him.

“Thank you, bye!” Hawks said quickly, snatching it up and hurrying away. Dabi had just stepped into the breakfast area when Hawks came right up in front of him and chirped, “Here, I got you—”

But he was interrupted as Takahiro elbowed him aside, presenting his own bowl and saying, “I got your food!”

Dabi looked between them, completely straight-faced.

Hawks pushed Takahiro back with a wing so he could straighten up again and said, “I thought I’d get it ready for you as soon as you arrived—”

Takahiro shoved back with his own wing but didn’t have the strength to bully him away again. “I had the idea first, though. I’d be so happy if—”

“Excuse you?” Hawks hissed.

“I don’t know what this bullsh*t is, and I want no part of it,” said Dabi. He marched off to the counter and said, “Give me a bagel.”

He then sat in his usual spot and they both rushed to get the open seat next to him. Hawks predictably won, but spilled some rice on the table. Takahiro seethed but went to Dabi’s other side and said, “Hey, Tatami, are you done? Could I take your spot?”

“Oh! Sorry, I’m a slow eater,” said Tatami. Her chopsticks slowed to the speed of a snail.

Takahiro huffed and was forced to sit at a different table.

“The f*ck was that?” said Dabi.

“Nothing,” said Hawks.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. If it were nothing you wouldn’t be so worked up about it,” said Dabi.

“Yeah, well… I really shouldn’t be this worked up about it,” said Hawks.

“Okay, so what is it? What’s the deal?” said Dabi.

“Nothing,” said Hawks. Dabi gave him a judgmental look. Hawks opened and closed his mouth, then ducked his head in embarrassment. “Did you really think Takahiro’s flying was cool?”

“Yeah? It was impressive? That’s kind of an objective fact,” said Dabi.

“Hawks could do better,” said Tatami.

“Thank you!” said Hawks.

“That’s also objective. Why is this an issue?” said Dabi.

“It’s not,” said Hawks.

“Clearly it is,” said Dabi. “Why would you—” His eyes widened and his voice went serious. “You know you’re not going to be replaced, right?”

Hawks’ throat suddenly felt clogged. “I—”

“You’re not,” Dabi said quietly, sincerely. “There could be a hundred bird quirks here but none of them would be you. No one can replace you.”

This was reassuring and devastating at the same time. If Hawks hadn’t been head over heels for Dabi already this would’ve sealed the deal.

“Thanks,” he croaked, unsure what else to say.

Dabi nodded to himself and turned his attention back to his bagel.

As the day went on the heat crept in, oppressive with the humidity. Rather than braving the hot sand and direct sunlight of the beach, almost everyone gravitated to the partially covered pool area. Many of them floated in the water to cool off, others lounged in patio chairs, and Dabi staked out the daybed with the most shade.

Gentle came rushing out to him with an ice pail. “We can put this in your drink if that melts too fast! This is insulated so it should last a while and we can always refill—”

“Beautiful. Give it to me,” said Dabi, reaching out with grabby hands.

When the pail was brought close enough he took a handful of ice and popped it directly into his mouth.

“Aren’t you going to get brain freeze?” said Gentle, appalled.

“No. Immune,” Dabi mumbled through a mouthful of ice, and otherwise appeared in perfect bliss.

Hawks wasn’t sure how a blue combustion quirk could cause cold immunity (Endeavor’s Flaming Sidekickers seemed to have even less cold tolerance than most if they weren’t actively using their quirks) but what was one more mystery on top of everything else?

Meanwhile the drama was kicking up among the others.

“I can’t believe you,” Chikuchi was saying. “You’re so disgusting—”

“You’re the one who wanted to try out a new fetish!” said Tsutsutaka.

“Okay, but you were so sloppy about it!”

“Why do they have to be yelling about this?” said Tatami, sitting with her feet in the pool and hands over her ears.

“I think I need to leave,” said Fuwa, who’d been sitting beside her. “Yes, I should be visiting Nagamasa since he hasn’t been out yet today…”

“Do you need company?” said Mongoose, clambering out of the pool to follow her.

Zookeeper swam over to Shikkui and latched onto him like a flea. “We should experiment too.”

“Uh, no thanks?” said Shikkui.

“WE ARE ALL HAPPY THAT YOU ENJOYED THE BOOM BOOM ROOM BUT IT SOUNDS LIKE THIS SHOULD BE A PRIVATE DISCUSSION,” said Inasa.

“We did not enjoy it!” cried Chikuchi.

“THIS STILL SOUNDS LIKE IT SHOULD BE A PRIVATE DISCUSSION,” said Inasa.

“Hear, hear!” said Dabi, who was starting to wilt again.

“Well, too bad!” Chikuchi rounded on Tsutsutaka again and said, “You’re embarrassing in the bedroom! You should be ashamed.”

“How am I supposed to do anything right in the bedroom when you keep changing your mind about what we’re doing? You can’t grade me on one thing when you stopped me partway through to do something completely different! You’re the embarrassing one! I’m surprised I managed to stay hard enough to f*ck you at all!”

Chikuchi gasped in outrage. “You can’t blame your faulty dick on me!”

“Watch me!”

On the daybed, the ice distraction proved to be a short-lived relief. Dabi took hold of his shirt and started flapping it in a vain attempt to cool himself down.

Oh f*ck, there was his stomach.

Oh f*ck that was a lot more stomach than he’d ever showed off before.

“Holy sh*t,” said Tatami. “Hawks, are you good?”

His soda can had met a swift end, crushed in a raptor grip and sending stickiness all down his hand and arm. Hawks cussed and let go, picking up his towel to dry himself off.

This is Bachelor in Paradise! It’s at a beach! he raged at himself. Of course Dabi’s going to show more skin here! You should’ve been prepared for it!

His poor bisexual heart was not prepared at all.

Hawks sucked in a fortifying breath and turned back. Dabi had given up on the flapping and left his shirt bunched up, baring the whole of his midriff to the world. There was another band of scars across his middle, the staples glinting dully with every rise and fall of his breath and shift of hidden muscle.

So that’s why I wasn’t supposed to touch around there, that time I flew him onto the mansion roof, Hawks thought with some hysteria.

God, how he wished he could touch it now that it was visible. Would Dabi be warm, under his hands? Well. Obviously. The man was fighting off heatstroke. But with his quirk did he run warm as a rule? Would it feel like a fever under his skin? Would it get even hotter if Hawks were to trail his hands down those lithe sides, and let his fingers linger over—

Hero training kicked in before he could scold himself, and Hawks’ attention zeroed in on a point just below the burn scars. There was another scar there, thin and pale enough that few would notice it against the luridness of the burns. It was almost like an appendix removal scar, but too small and on the wrong side of the body. Something about it tapped warning against his brain. He looked closer at the rest, and… was that another thin divot overshadowed by burns?

“You know what? We’re over!” cried Chikuchi, and stormed away.

“Good riddance!” said Tsutsutaka.

Dabi rolled over to better see the drama unfolding, and this exposed his back. His back, with matching thin scars.

He was impaled, Hawks realized, feeling sick. Something had skewered Dabi with cruel precision, and for it to be something so thin and strong, it had to be a quirk.

Was this evidence of abuse from heroes, as Dabi had mentioned before? No, Hawks couldn’t think of any licensed hero with a quirk that could achieve this, and back when they’d argued about Stain and Dabi’s dislike of heroes, Dabi had only mentioned losing a job from the harassment; if there had been physical harm from a hero, he would’ve thrown that into the accusations easily.

It had to be linked to the Nomu factory. One of the subjects decided to escape or die trying. How Dabi had gotten into the factory ten years ago no one knew, but he’d been a child and it wouldn’t have been pleasant. Dabi clearly wasn’t a Nomu, but as the info broker Giran had said, engineered monstrosities weren’t made overnight. It was possible that multiple quirks were attempted to be stacked into living people first. It was possible that a healing quirk was attempted to be implanted in him, with testing by blade, quirk, and flame to see if a body held up under the strain.

“What are you thinking?”

Hawks startled out of his thoughts and found Dabi looking straight at him. He tried to assemble a smile but it felt wrong on his face.

“Oh, nothing! Just… teas? Yeah, uh, my secretary’s really passionate about tea now so I was going to talk to Gentle—”

Dabi raised a brow as if to say, Really? but didn’t call him out on it otherwise.

Unfortunately Hawks wasn’t the only one paying close attention.

“Did you need anything?” said Takahiro, leaning in as if being drawn in on a line. “I can get you more ice? A drink?”

“No need, Gentle’s already got it,” said Hawks.

“I am always prepared!” said Gentle, lifting the ice pail.

“Nice,” said Dabi, and crammed more ice into his mouth.

“Hey Dabi, do you have room on that daybed?” said Fuwa. She was returning hand in hand with Nagamasa, and wow. If Dabi had been wilting earlier Nagamasa looked like he had a foot in the grave.

“Sure. It’s not like I own the thing,” said Dabi, rolling a little so there was better access.

Nagamasa crawled onto the mattress and collapsed.

“I’ll get you some more water,” said Fuwa.

“Oh, I already have a good supply he and Dabi can share if— Ah, she’s gone,” Gentle said awkwardly. “I suppose she’s very eager to take care of you, Nagamasa.”

“She’s a good person,” said Nagamasa. “I’m lucky to have met her.”

“It’s good that you know that,” said Dabi.

“I have to break up with her,” said Nagamasa.

Dabi sat up to give him an incredulous look. “Excuse me, you what?”

“I’m dragging her down and ruining her shot at Paradise,” said Nagamasa. “We haven’t spent much time together. Only one date. But it was enough to know she’s amazing, and she deserves the world. I can’t keep up. So I think it’s best to end this before she really feels obligated to stick to me. It’s not fair to her.”

“But she likes you,” said Hawks.

“That’s an honor. But it’s not love, and she shouldn’t confuse it for that so soon. Maybe we can be friends someday, but I can’t stay here and she deserves Paradise. Can… Can you all promise me to look out for her? She’s so scared of not having friends. I just want her to be happy.”

“Yeah,” said Dabi.

“We promise,” Hawks, Gentle, and Tatami all agreed.

Nagamasa heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got it!” said Fuwa, running back into sight with two chilled water bottles. “Here, you can drink one and pour the other over your head…”

“Fuwa, can we talk?” said Nagamasa.

Fuwa faltered but forced her smile to stick. “Of course! That’s why I asked you out here, so we can have a conversation.”

“Do you want us to give you some space?” said Hawks.

“Please,” said Nagamasa.

They all picked up and relocated to the hammocks on the opposite side of the pool.

“This sucks,” said Dabi.

“It does,” said Hawks.

“It’s a real shame. I thought they’d go all the way to the end together,” Gentle said sadly.

“This is almost a worse way to go than the regular Paradise backstabbing,” said Tatami, with a hand to her face. “It’s not a betrayal, but losing something that could’ve worked, so the rest of your life you’ll always wonder if you could’ve been happy… That seems horrible.”

They watched in silence as the two of them talked. At this distance they couldn’t easily make out the words, but this breakup was nothing like Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka’s. They spoke calmly, quietly, and when they reached the end of that discussion they hugged. A few producers came out of hiding to help Nagamasa trudge out of sight for the last time. Fuwa watched until he was gone. Then she sat down on the daybed, bowed her head, and cried.

“Oh, no,” Tatami murmured.

They all hurried back to comfort her. For a long time Fuwa didn’t say anything, just buried her face in Tatami’s shoulder and wept as quietly as she could manage. When she finally surfaced again she rubbed tears from her eyes and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t want to bring down the mood…”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for. This is a pretty awful situation,” said Hawks.

Fuwa nodded with a half-smile. “I… I think I should be leaving too.”

“The f*ck?” said Dabi. “No, you shouldn’t be leaving. Why would you leave?”

“If Nagamasa is gone, I don’t think I’ll make it here,” said Fuwa.

“No? The reason you weren’t getting along with the other women was because they knew you’d be way more successful than them here at Paradise,” said Dabi. “f*ck them. Don’t give up on being happy just because they’re jealous.”

“Agreed!” said Tatami. “Fuwa, you’re so sweet it’s a little intimidating, but that doesn’t mean I want you to fail! Stay on at least a little longer, okay? Even if romance doesn’t happen, maybe a friendship can? Is that okay?”

Fuwa looked at her with tears in her eyes. “I— Yes! Friends sound wonderful!”

Hawks got the impression that she was as starved for friends as he was.

They stayed grouped around her for the rest of the day. Drama continued circulating around them, of course, but they were a little pocket of peace uninterrupted until La Brava and Romero returned from their date.

“They’re back!” cried Amplifier, waving enthusiastically as she caught sight of them. “How was it? What did you do? Tell us everything!”

La Brava looked like a completely different person than the one they’d initially met on the beach; seriously, if this were a manga she’d be surrounded by hearts and sparkle effects.

“It was great!” she trilled, near skipping down the stairs. “The best date I’ve ever been on! Romero’s such a gentleman!”

She went over to Amplifier and Mongoose to gush over the date, and when Tatami led a shy Fuwa over too, she seemed all the happier to have a larger audience. Fuwa gained courage to ask some questions, La Brava answered enthusiastically, and they got along well. It all seemed positive with them.

Romero didn’t share the same enthusiasm for the date. By the smirk he was in a good mood, but rather than talk about La Brava, he meandered around the other side of the pool to better get to know some of the other competitors. When he talked his words were innocent but his tone had Hawks’ hackles rising. He sent a feather after him to hear a little better, tracking his progress… and on the opposite end of that big pool, Romero stopped beside the patio chair where Claire Voyance was sunbathing and leered.

“X-ray vision, huh? Take a look at me any time, you’ll like what you see.”

Claire Voyance gave a long sigh that sounded more like a growl.

Inasa popped to the surface of the pool like a freed buoy, spraying water over the edge and saying, “SHE HAS ALREADY REQUESTED BETTER PICKUP LINES.”

“Yeah?” Romero sneered. “I lost my keys, can I check your pants?”

“THAT ONE ALSO SUCKED,” said Inasa.

Tokuda was in the patio chair right next to Claire Voyance’s. They didn’t seem particularly warm with each other but were still recognized as a couple at this point, so it would be completely understandable if he took offense. And maybe he did, but he remained placid.

“I’m a little surprised that you’re hitting on other women right after coming back from a date,” Tokuda said with a gentle smile. “Normally I’d only see that if the date didn’t go as you might’ve liked. Did something happen?”

“Nah. Just thought I’d get to know other people better,” said Romero.

“Pickup lines can be a fun way of breaking the ice, but I’ll caution you to make your intentions clear when using them. La Brava’s clearly happy with you, and you wouldn’t want to cause any confusion with her if you return her feelings,” said Tokuda.

“No one likes a cheater,” Claire Voyance said icily, adjusting her sunglasses as if they’d block her view of Romero entirely. “And I don’t want to be hearing any pickup lines from you. Go away.”

“Damn, you’re cold,” said Romero. “Bet you’re real popular in the heat—”

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE LEADING INTO AN INSULT AND I DON’T LIKE IT,” said Inasa.

“I’m sure he meant it as a joke,” said Tokuda, waving him down. “Though, Romero, it may be better to leave it there. I know there are a lot of other people you haven’t had the chance to talk with. It might be good to talk with them and let us cool down a little. We can chat later on if you’d like.”

“Yeah, no point sticking around for an ice queen and wet blankets,” Romero laughed, and walked on.

“HE’S STILL THE SAME ASSHOLE HE WAS ON OUR SEASON OF THE BACHELORETTE,” said Inasa. “I APOLOGIZE FOR HIS BEHAVIOR!”

“You weren’t the ass, there’s nothing you need to be apologizing for,” said Claire Voyance. “God, what is it with all these men rushing to put someone else’s blame on themselves? It gets so annoying.”

“We do appreciate you calling him out, though,” said Tokuda. “By the way, Inasa, were you in any competitive swimming teams? While you were swimming earlier I noticed you have a perfect form on the butterfly stroke. I work with several news outlets and have covered sports before, so I wondered if maybe I’d worked with any organizations you knew…”

Inasa was very happy to say he had been involved in swimming, though not at the competitive level, and they ended up having a nice conversation. Romero, meanwhile, kept prowling around and testing his luck on any women outside of La Brava’s little group. Chikuchi was the only one who responded positively to this, but she immediately turned the conversation to her breakup with Tsutsutaka and that dissuaded him very quickly.

“I don’t like that man,” said Gentle, scowling at Romero’s back. He didn’t have feathers to be listening through like Hawks, but Inasa’s volume was hard to miss, and Romero’s body language wasn’t exactly subtle. “I think I’m going to follow him.”

“I don’t know that it’s a good idea,” Hawks muttered. “If you do find something wrong and tell La Brava about it, she might take extra offence. I mean, you remember what Tokuda said about us being her sister’s exes…”

“So I should sit by and let her get hurt? Absolutely not!” said Gentle. “Who knows, maybe my simple presence will be enough to make him behave.”

Hawks doubted that, but before he could comment further, his feathers picked up the sound of someone approaching on the stairs.

“Heads up!” he called. “We’ve got someone coming down!”

Considering all known contestants were already accounted for, this caught everyone’s attention very quickly. All eyes were on the stairs as the newcomer appeared. It was a tall man with curly black hair and a blithe smile.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Yo Shindo.”

Tatami dropped her drink. Thankfully the cup was plastic so there was no damage, and the sound was quickly overtaken by the enthusiastic greetings from the others. Weirdly enough, even Dabi was sitting up to attention.

“Do you know him?” asked Hawks.

“Tatami does,” said Dabi.

Hawks winced. “Are you, uh, worried he might be competition?”

“He’s the one she was most interested in meeting here,” said Dabi.

So, yes. This was obviously a moment where Hawks, as Dabi’s best friend, was supposed to step up and be a proper wingman. How the hell did someone play a wingman when it was the last thing they wanted to do?

The others loudly welcomed Shindo and clamored for whatever was written on his date card. He obliged, flipping open the card to read aloud, “Are you ready to fall in love? Choose someone to go with you on your first date in Paradise.”

“How romantic!” Amplifier sighed. “Do you know who you want to ask out?”

“I think I need some research first,” said Shindo. “Tatami, are you free to talk?”

“Yes!” Tatami squeaked. “Yeah, I— Be right there!”

She scrambled up, almost tripping over her dropped cup in her haste. Shindo’s bland smile twitched toward something genuine before smoothing out again.

On instinct Hawks made to rise, but Dabi caught his shoulder to keep him in place.

“Let it happen,” Dabi muttered, watching the two of them walk out of sight.

Something about the way he said that…

“Do you not mind?” said Hawks, incredulous. “If he asks her, you’re not… mad?”

“He asked to talk to her, not to take her on the date,” Dabi scoffed. “If he does, though, it’s fine.”

Hawks opened and closed his mouth, perplexed. “Seriously?”

Dabi raised a challenging brow. “I’ve known Tatami for about five days. She’s not going to break my heart.”

That made sense. Sort of. Hawks leaned back again with a frown.

“Then… are you looking at one of the other women?”

Dabi’s expression immediately soured and he flopped back onto the daybed again, grumbling, “I suppose I’ll have to. f*ck.”

When Tatami and Shindo returned it was in high spirits. Shindo took La Brava aside next. Meanwhile Tatami skipped over to set her hands on the edge of the daybed, leaning to make better eye contact with where Dabi was languishing.

“I think it went well! I really think it did!” she said. Was she rubbing it in? Really?

“Congrats,” said Dabi, and sounded like he meant it. How? Why?

Shindo kept on checking with other women, running through almost half their number before returning to the pool area for the last time. Tatami perked up, clearly anticipating being picked… except it was Kuin hanging on Shindo’s arm and waving at them all with a sh*t-eating grin.

“Guess who’s going on a date!” she called.

“What the f*ck?” cried Cider.

“But— but I thought we had something special?” said Itejuro.

“Come on, dummy, this is Paradise! The point is enjoying it as much as possible!” said Kuin. “I’m not turning down any dates from anyone who asks me.”

This of course caused great commotion, but no matter how upset her previous suitors were, Kuin stuck to Shindo’s side for the rest of the day. Tatami didn’t join the grumbling, just laid down on the daybed in a defeated slump and said, “Well. This sucks.” If prompted throughout the day she pulled a smile onto her face, but disappointment hung heavy over her, and eventually she retreated with Fuwa to distract themselves from their misery with La Brava’s happiness. Shindo and Kuin went down to the beach and most of the group followed after. As the evening started closing in Claire Voyance relocated to a chair closer to the daybed to better catch the remaining sunlight. Amplifier circled back to poke at Dabi over Tatami’s clear favoring of Shindo, and when she didn’t get the passionate reaction expected of most competitors she decided to sit down in another nearby chair and regale them with all the other gossip she’d gathered. It was a lot. Hawks had already picked up on all of it through his feathers, but he listened with half an ear anyway. Even if the source was biased, it was good to do some comparisons for perspective.

It was almost an hour into the gossip session when Dabi reacted. His head jerked up and he said, “What was that?”

“What part?” said Amplifier, startled but excited to finally get a reaction out of him. “The shedding, the overheating, the bird courting, the Romero being an asshole—”

“The bird courting,” said Dabi.

“Oh! I thought you knew about that part already,” said Amplifier. “Some common hawk mating behavior is aerial displays, bringing their crush food, preening, and vocalizing together. The fancy flying thing was pretty public, but Takahiro’s been trying to beat Hawks in everything else and trying to give you food, and he’s not targeting anyone else that aggressively.”

“You think Takahiro is interested in me?” said Dabi.

“I’m sure that’s not really what’s going on—” Hawks tried, but Amplifier said, “Yes,” and Claire Voyance said, “No sh*t.”

Dabi took a moment to process that, then stood and said, “I’m putting a stop to that.”

“You are?” Hawks gasped.

“You are?” said Amplifier, thrilled.

“Cool,” said Claire Voyance, and put down her sunglasses again.

Dabi strode away through the trees, and Hawks hurried after him.

“Hey, Takahiro,” Dabi called when they were nearing the bar. “I want to talk to you for a second.”

Takahiro had been sitting on one of the stools and perked up immediately. “Sure!”

Dabi led him away, and as he passed Takahiro gave Hawks a triumphant look. Hawks scowled but otherwise stayed put. He only sent a single feather after them to monitor what was going on. Dabi brought Takahiro to the treehouse room and went in with all the bluntness of a sledgehammer: “I heard that you might potentially like me, so I’m here to tell you not to waste your time.”

Takahiro spluttered. “I— But— Why do you—”

“Maybe all the things the girls pointed out to me were coincidence,” said Dabi. “Hopefully it is a coincidence and we can consider this an embarrassing assumption and move on with our lives, but if it’s not, then I’ll tell you that there are way better options here in Paradise than me.” With that initial rejection out of the way, he became awkward. “It’s not that you’re not… attractive. Or not talented, or anything. It’s just that we would not work. So. Make the most of your time with other people, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Takahiro said weakly. “Yeah, uh, I guess that’s good to know. Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it,” said Dabi. “…You went on a date with X, right? Are you thinking of staying with her at this point, or…”

“I did, so probably,” said Takahiro.

“Cool…”

“Yeah…”

It was so unbearably awkward Hawks was tempted to withdraw his feather and leave them to it, but he didn’t want to abandon Dabi like that. He turned instead to the other man who’d been sitting at the bar and said, “Hey, Tokuda, my man—”

“What do you need?” said Tokuda, amused.

Hawks winced at his own predictability. “Could I convince you to go up and interrupt the most painfully awkward conversation that’s happened in Paradise so far? I think they’re both looking for an out but don’t want to be rude by being the first one to walk away.”

“I think I can handle that,” Tokuda laughed. “Give me a minute.”

He strolled up the path with his drink in hand, and about three minutes later Dabi came speed walking back with a grimace on his face.

“f*ck, I need alcohol after that sh*tshow.”

“That bad, huh?” said Hawks.

“I’m going to laugh at this later,” Dabi said miserably. “All the confessionals will be about how I made a self-centered assumption that didn’t make sense, we’ll laugh, and we’ll move on to the next dumb dramatics. Where’s Zookeeper? Whatever comes out of her mouth will definitely overshadow me.”

He got a co*cktail from the bar and sulked off to another daybed on the beach to drink away the shame. Hawks of course accompanied him.

“I think you did the right thing,” said Hawks. “Yeah, back on The Bachelorette we were mad that Aiko let go of Gentle to ‘keep him from falling deeper,’ but this situation’s not the same. It’s definitely a kindness, here. Gives him the chance to redirect and potentially stay instead of getting a nasty shock later on.”

After all, only realizing at the rose ceremony that you were pursuing a straight person would be humiliating. Hawks didn’t like Takahiro but still wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

“I know that,” Dabi grumbled. “Not that he was actually interested. This was just a failsafe. Preemptive measures or whatever.”

Hawks’ wing flitted unconsciously and he muttered, “Yeah, I guess it must’ve been a shock to potentially have a guy coming after you.”

“What?” said Dabi.

“He was a guy?” said Hawks. “I mean, you signed up for the Bachelor series anticipating women, right? Takahiro being male was probably one of the reasons you turned him down so fast?”

Dabi blinked up at the daybed’s canopy like this was only just occurring to him. “That didn’t really factor in.”

It what? Hawks sat up with urgency.

“What do you mean, it didn’t factor in? Aren’t you—”

“Hey!” Itejuro was running toward them, wearing clothes that were really better suited to the rose ceremonies. “You two need to get lost!”

“God, can’t you just let me languish in peace?” Dabi groaned.

“This is my part of the beach for tonight!” said Itejuro. “I’m taking Kuin on a date, and there’s no room for third and fourth wheels.”

“I didn’t realize you got a date card,” said Hawks.

“Does it look like I got a date card?” Itejuro huffed. “No. The producers can help you set up mini-dates onsite even if you don’t get the official dates. I’m not letting Shindo get away with stealing my girlfriend! This is my time, and I spent too long planning this for anyone to get in the way.”

“Oh? What are you doing?” said Hawks.

“Go away,” said Itejuro.

“They’re going to be dancing,” said Shion, who was carrying one end of a massive roll of black material while Joules supported the other.

Itejuro made a frustrated noise before whirling on Dabi and Hawks again. “If I find out that either of you told Cider or Shindo about this, I’ll make your lives miserable.”

Hawks mimed zipping his lips.

Dabi threw back his co*cktail, coughed, and said, “f*ck, yeah, whatever. I need more booze anyway.”

“You drank that way too fast, and you haven’t eaten,” Hawks fretted.

“I know what I’m doing, and it’s getting drunk enough to forget everything that’s just happened,” said Dabi.

“What? No—”

Hawks followed him back to the bar and tried to be a voice of reason, but the sour-looking bartender gave Dabi another strong co*cktail without question. Dabi meandered back to one of the lower terraces so they were hidden by the vegetation but still had a good view to spy on Itejuro’s mini-date.

It turned out that the big roll the crew had carried out was the base for a dance floor. Once it was unfurled they snapped together some fake wood panels on the top to create a shiny even surface. They planted little tea candles in the sand to add a more romantic ambiance, and to top it all off, a musician with a trumpet was brought in. The musician appeared to be a local, well past middle age with the kind of tired expression that said he was only here to play music and get paid with absolutely zero interest in otherwise entertaining celebrities. The crew cleared out fast, and after a few minutes Itejuro led Kuin to it. She gasped in delight, he pulled her onto the dance floor, the trumpet started… And Hawks paid no more attention.

That didn’t really factor in was still echoing around his head.

So Dabi… hadn’t cared that a man was interested in him?

This rattled the very basis of Hawks’ Paradise worldview. It had felt pretty horrible signing up for this while knowing he was going to watch Dabi pursue someone else, but he’d made peace with that because he’d thought he stood no chance even outside Paradise. But now? The Bachelor series was aggressively heteronormative; maybe Takahiro had been interested, but he hadn’t said it blatantly enough for critics to fixate on it, and Hawks had seen some of the cast members looking annoyed or outright critical of Takahiro’s advances even if they hadn’t voiced anything. If Takahiro had made it more overt, something that couldn’t be ignored or explained away by audience ignorance, the producers likely would’ve shut him down even before the rose ceremony. This was still an impossibility.

Do you really think Dabi’s off limits or is that just a nice excuse for you? Majestic’s words came back to mind, and Hawks shifted uncomfortably.

It was a nice excuse.

The idea of Dabi being straight had let Hawks compartmentalize. It was painful, but it was just another thing to grin and bear, all the frightening possibilities gone before they’d even started because the onus wasn’t on Hawks to do anything about it. He already had his answer. It was safe.

If Dabi wasn’t straight—if he was bi like Hawks, straight-up gay, or somewhere else on the spectrum—that meant some very real possibilities were opening up. In a perfect world it would all go smoothly: Dabi would say, “I like you,” Hawks would say, “I like you too,” they’d exchange roses, and they’d live happily ever after in Hawks’ apartment in f*ckuoka. But this was the real world, and what little confidence Hawks might’ve gained had already evaporated. After all, while he didn’t like Takahiro, he could admit they were very similar. If Dabi didn’t like the bird quirks and the accompanying courtship rituals, Hawks was just as bad a choice. It was pretty telling of Dabi’s preferences.

He's totally going to reject me even if I try, Hawks decided, wings drooping.

There was no way he could risk making his own advances. Dabi would be uncomfortable or annoyed with him, and he’d lose the closest relationship he’d ever had on top of being kicked out for breaking Paragon rules. There was no way it would work. He had to prioritize Dabi’s safety. The mission. He had to stay and lie his way through the show so he could stay close by Dabi’s side as protection detail. Maybe he’d never be able to speak the truth of what he felt, but he could express it this way at least. Support, even from the background…

“Oh f*ck,” said Dabi, clearly well past tipsy as a grin brightened his face. “Drama.”

Itejuro had expected Cider or Shindo to crash the date, but it turned out to be Tsutsutaka. Life with Chikuchi was apparently worse than anticipated, because Tsutsutaka stormed onto the dance floor and tried to steal Kuin. This started an argument between the men, Kuin looked on with a grin and fanned the flames before eventually letting Tsutsutaka lead her away, and Itejuro chased after them with shrill complaints.

“Well, that sucks,” Hawks muttered.

“Yeah, sucks to be them, but the floor’s open,” said Dabi, and beelined his way back onto the beach.

The trumpeter hadn’t reacted to the argument; he was leaned back on the daybed with his hat drawn down over his eyes, still playing Blue Ocean Floor by memory. He didn’t seem to care that someone else was claiming the temporary floor, and Dabi didn’t seem to care that anyone else was present either; he began to dance. It was a drunken, stumbling thing, head thrown back and arms spread wide as he stepped between lazy spins. Any professional dancer would be embarrassed by it, but Dabi smiled like there was some inside joke, and Hawks was entranced. He wanted very much to get up and follow, to take those turns, to touch, to pull the man close until they were cheek to cheek and moving as one, the way the other couple had been earlier.

That’s a bad idea, said a little voice in the back of his head. You shouldn’t be thinking that.

But Hawks couldn’t help it.

So he kept watching, his chest heavy with something like reverence and something like guilt.

It was day six of Bachelor in Paradise, and Dabi skipped breakfast for the beach.

While the day was already warm, it wasn’t sunny enough for everyone to be parading down for swimming or sunbathing yet, which was good because Dabi was looking for a break from the chaos. All things considered he’d stayed well on the edges of Paradise nonsense, but he wasn’t even willing to weather that this morning. He was far happier sitting on a daybed alone and watching a night heron try its luck hunting for crabs.

“May your search be more successful than mine,” he grumbled.

He was very much not looking forward to the process of selecting a new woman and pursuing her rose. He’d have liked to stay with Tatami, but after their chat it just wasn’t feasible. Like, really, what would she say? Yeah we’ve just confirmed neither of us is really into each other but I’ll totally give away my chance at wooing my crush to you for no reason at all? As if! And of course he couldn’t think about approaching anyone else without welling up with shame, because his bender last night had not erased his sh*tty, awkward, why-did-I-even-f*cking-do-that talk with Takahiro. Just knowing that had happened made him cringe. Surely Takahiro hadn’t really been interested in him, but damn. Even if he wasn’t dealing with Takahiro later, he’d probably be having that same awful talk with whatever woman he ended up following after, and he hated the idea of such a deception. He just didn’t want to think about it right now.

“I should’ve been born a bird,” he said miserably, flopping onto his side. “You birds don’t have to deal with this sort of sh*t, do you?”

The heron extended its ludicrous neck to get a better look at him.

“sh*t, my bad, I guess you do,” said Dabi. “f*ck, hawk mating behavior. Yeah you have it too. Have you been bird-dumped?” Did I bird-dump Takahiro? said a hysteric voice in his head, and Dabi groaned and covered his face. “I’m going insane.”

The heron didn’t give a sh*t about his sanity. It picked its way over to the daybed, paused to observe, and then lunged. A crab that had gotten too close to Dabi’s foot found itself scooped up in a beak, and it waggled its pincers as the heron carried it out of sight.

“…Thanks?” Dabi called after it.

“Oh, there you are!” said Gentle, from the bottom of the stairs. “We were a little worried when we didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“I’m good for now,” said Dabi.

“Oh dear,” said Gentle. He joined Dabi on the daybed with a worried look. “Are you feeling alright? Did something happen?”

“Why do you think it did?” Dabi said suspiciously.

“You skipped breakfast,” said Gentle.

“You say that as if I’ve committed some kind of cardinal sin.”

“You have to admit, it’s very out of character.”

Dabi heaved a sigh and rolled onto his back. “I’m tired of the drama. I don’t want to think about it today.”

Gentle politely did not point out that it was required to have drama today due to the upcoming rose ceremony. Instead he cast around for a distraction and said, “Are those coconuts?”

“…Yeah, they are. Didn’t know Okinawa had coconut trees.”

Ten minutes later Cider found them on their feet, necks craned back to inspect the coconuts.

“What are you two doing?”

“Planning,” said Dabi, squinting at the tree. “I’ve never had a coconut.”

“I’ve bought coconut milk in stores, but I’ve never had it straight from the source. Do you think it’s ripe?” said Gentle, rubbing at his chin.

Cider was intrigued despite himself. “…Do coconuts get ripe?”

“Presumably?” said Dabi. “I mean, they’ve got to grow somehow.”

All three of them pondered this for a moment, and then Cider tried to climb the tree. It didn’t work. Climbing trees and jungle gyms as a kid was easy but adults out of the habit could not so easily scale an unfamiliar plant; he halfheartedly abandoned the attempt a third of the way up. Dabi threw rocks in an attempt to knock them down, but had sh*tty aim. Gentle tried to shake the tree, but it was a pretty big specimen and didn’t move much at all. It would’ve been easy to fetch Hawks and have him cut down a coconut with his feathers, but they were all in silent agreement that was a cop-out. They could get their own coconuts.

“How about quirks?” said Cider.

“I’d rather not have roasted coconut right now,” said Dabi.

“I think mine could work,” said Gentle, but he sounded dubious about it.

“What is your quirk?” said Dabi.

“It’s called Elasticity. I… well, I’ll give it a try, but I don’t want anyone else using its effect. I’ve used it before with good intentions, but it ended in injury…”

Dabi had an immediate flashback to several TV shows where characters could stretch their limbs to impossible proportions, but that isn’t what Gentle did. No, Gentle focused very hard on the air just in front of him, then hopped… and bounced upward like he’d been launched by something invisible. He grabbed a coconut, and rather than fall all the way back down, he seemed to bounce from invisible stair to invisible stair until he was back on the sand again.

“What was that?” cried Cider. “That’s your f*cking quirk?”

“It’s not too flashy, but yes,” said Gentle, sheepish.

“The f*ck do you mean, not too flashy? How did you do that?” said Dabi.

“Well, I can make things take on a certain amount of elasticity…”

“But what did you use that effect on?”

“The air.”

The f*cking air!

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but… in a hero that quirk could be stupidly overpowered,” said Dabi. “Did you… ever want to go for that?”

“Once,” said Gentle. He did not elaborate, but his wince explained more than enough. “I use it for fun these days, mostly. Also to catch things when I drop them, so I don’t break anything! Have you seen my channel online? The videos with the ping pong balls?” When both of them shook their heads he went on, “There’s a trend where you bounce a ping pong ball over multiple arranged objects to get it into a cup at the end. The stranger the arrangement, the better. It resembles something like a Rube Goldberg machine while in motion! Due to my quirk I’m very in tune with the force and directions involved, so I’m able to create some truly fantastic setups. Those videos are some of my most popular.”

“Have you ever used your quirk in them?” said Dabi.

“Not usually, since it would be cheating,” said Gentle. “I’ve only done it the once, and that was using a bowling ball…”

“Show us,” said Cider.

Gentle flustered a little, but cleared his throat and acquiesced. He tossed the coconut at the spot he’d first jumped. Sure enough it launched too, and then it hit one of the steps he’d used to get down, ricocheted left, hit another apparent marker, and zipped its way back. It kept going, bouncing faster and faster until it was almost a blur apparently contained in an elastic bubble.

“It’s like a motorcycle cage at a circus,” said Cider, awed.

“I guess you’re not going to have a problem breaking the thing open then,” said Dabi, also impressed.

“Make it hit the rock!” said Cider, pointing at a boulder further down the beach. “Break it on that!”

Gentle allowed it; one of the elastic patches deactivated and the coconut shot through it, straight into the boulder.

This did break the coconut.

More accurately, it obliterated the coconut.

“Oh, sh*t.” Dabi gaped at the shattered bits of its husk.

“Ah! I didn’t— It was supposed to slow down a little first,” said Gentle.

“That was awesome!” cried Cider, throwing up his hands in glee. “Do it again!”

“Dabi?” Tatami appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Dabi, are— Oh, there you are! What are you all up to? I heard a really loud noise.”

The three of them glanced guiltily at the destroyed coconut. “Uh… nothing?”

“Sounds like a lie, but okay,” said Tatami. “I was hoping to talk to Dabi in private quick, is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Dabi.

“We’ll get another coconut and have it ready by the time you come back,” said Gentle.

“Cool, thanks,” said Dabi, and followed Tatami back up the stairs.

“So,” Tatami said as they meandered along the next terrace up, “I, uh, wanted to talk with you to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“I think we are,” said Dabi. “We’re not romantically interested in each other, and it’s not a problem. I don’t have anyone in mind, but you like Shindo.”

“Shindo, who chose someone else for his date today,” she said ruefully.

“Are you doing okay with that?” asked Dabi.

She shrugged. “I guess. I got myself excited about possibilities and forgot to be rational about it. It’s fine.”

“Far as I can see, you were perfectly rational,” said Dabi. “I don’t understand why he chose Kuin of all people. Not only do I not understand her appeal, I don’t get why anyone would want to go for a woman who’s already being chased by three other men. It’s like begging to lose in the rose ceremony. Is he the type to start sh*t because he likes chaos or something?”

“He was a schemer on his season, but not like that,” said Tatami. “When people made scenes, he was the one in the confessional talking about how dumb they were acting. A few times he left the room entirely rather than listen to them.”

“Then it sounds like Kuin’s the opposite of what he likes,” said Dabi. “Seriously, it makes no sense. I’m willing to bet he comes back from the date pissed off.”

“Really?” said Tatami. “I mean… Maybe it’ll be the opposite. Maybe getting to know her one on one will let him overlook the whole—” She waved vaguely.

“Yeah, no. Cider, Itejuro, and Tsutsutaka wouldn’t let him forget any of that nonsense,” said Dabi. “I’ll ask him when he gets back.”

“You don’t have to,” said Tatami.

“I’ll be sating my own curiosity,” said Dabi. “I’ll just happen to let you know whatever I find out.”

“Thanks,” Tatami chuckled. “I’m not going to let you get away with doing that for nothing, though! I can get information for you from the other girls. Are you sure you’re not into anyone? I can put out feelers…”

The one person he was interested in wasn’t on the table, so he didn’t bother to voice it.

“Not really. I’ll figure it out at the rose ceremony.”

“Are you sure? A lot of them are in solid relationships, so there’s no guarantee of you getting a rose,” said Tatami.

“Maybe Fuwa will take pity on me,” said Dabi.

“I suppose I could ask her…”

“Look out!” Gentle cried from below, and that was all the warning they had before a coconut came sailing toward them. Dabi ducked, putting his hands over his head, and heard it smash, presumably into the terrace wall behind them. He was straightening again, opening his mouth to yell back about aiming properly, when he realized something was very wrong. Tatami was headless.

HOLY f*ck, HE KILLED HER! thought Dabi.

The corpse wavered before planting its feet again, and then, pop! Suddenly she did have a head, and was rubbing at her temples like she had a migraine.

“Did— Did you just— Did you regrow your own head?” said Dabi.

“What? No!” cried Tatami. “Why would you think that?”

“You were just headless!”

“No, no, that’s just my quirk!” Before his eyes, Tatami’s left arm began to collapse in on itself like the closing of a pop-up book, until it was totally gone inside her torso. “It’s called ‘Turtleneck.’ Kind of embarrassing, but it comes in handy sometimes…”

“Oh, thank f*ck,” said Dabi.

“My bad!” Cider shouted. “I threw it at the wrong trampoline!”

“I told you to use this one,” said Gentle.

“It’s not like I could see which one you were pointing to!”

Okay, yeah, no wonder Gentle was worried about potential injury earlier. Annoyed and still rattled, Dabi turned away, only to find Shindo (apparently returned from his date) looking right back at them from the other end of the path. He looked just as unnerved as Dabi felt.

“You good, Tatami?” said Shindo.

“Oh! Uh! Yeah! I’m great!” Tatami said shrilly, and gave him two thumbs up. “Totally swell!”

“…Cool,” said Shindo, and left.

When he was out of sight again Tatami clapped her hands to her face as if that would hide her embarrassment. “Totally swell? Why did I say that? Who says swell?”

“I think he cares a lot more about you not being decapitated by a coconut,” said Dabi.

“I can’t believe that’s the first he saw of me after he got back,” she groaned. “Turtlenecking to dodge a coconut…”

“It could be worse,” said Dabi. “You could be the one who almost hit somebody with a coconut.”

“I don’t think that’s better.”

“Eh.” Dabi shrugged. “Let me go after him, I’ll see how it went and whether you should be making a move.”

“You really, really don’t have to,” said Tatami.

“But it would make you happy, wouldn’t it?” said Dabi, and immediately cursed his wording. f*ck the sister-zoning, it was messing with his head.

“Yeah,” Tatami admitted quietly, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I— Thanks, Dabi. I’ll, um, go see if Kuin’s talking to the others, and get an idea about how she felt. See you at dinner?”

“See you then.”

They parted ways: Tatami to the treehouse room where Kuin was holding court with the other women, and Dabi after Shindo. Shindo didn’t settle for a while; he flitted from small group to small group, picking up a drink, obtaining a little plate of snacks, and not touching on the subject of his date at all. Dabi didn’t follow him too closely— other men would pursue and pick a fight over something as innocent as looking at the woman they were after, and Dabi didn’t want Shindo to think that’s what he was doing. No, he was chill about it! Welcoming of it! Get over here and ask her out, asshole!

“So, what are you up to?” said Hawks, falling in alongside him as Dabi circled the edge of the pool.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know. I saw your feather following Gentle down to the beach,” said Dabi.

“Guilty as charged,” said Hawks. “Still, what’s up? What are you going to ask Shindo? Do you need a wingman for it?”

“It can’t hurt,” said Dabi. If he went in with a group it would be harder to perceive his approach as an attack.

Shindo ended up back in the men’s bedrooms, on one of the couches on that big balcony overlooking the sea.

Hawks pretended loudly that he and Dabi had returned for some issue about his dumb boots (Did you say they were a little too big or a little too small? They’re different brands, let’s check your first pair to see what size was listed on that one), and then even louder pretended to have just noticed Shindo. “Oh, there you are! I wondered where you’d disappeared to. Mind if we join you?”

Shindo said nothing but gestured at the little table and other seats, as if to say, go for it. They took the invitation gladly.

“It’s been pretty nice weather so far today, not as hot as the last few days. It must’ve been nice on your date. How’d it go?” said Hawks.

Shindo shrugged. “Fine.”

This didn’t quite compute with the “vilified for passionately talking sh*t behind people’s backs” impression Tatami had provided, so Dabi said flatly, “Cut the sh*t. How did it really go?”

This apparent permission had Shindo dropping his happy-pretty-boy act. His face descended into a truly impressive scowl and he said, “It was fine. But it turns out Kuin’s a three-timing bitch, so I’m not interested.”

Hawks choked, but Dabi was satisfied. “You didn’t realize she was playing people before you asked her out?”

“No. The women I talked to either wanted nothing to do with me or were too ‘polite’ to say the truth, so while I knew other guys were interested in her, I didn’t know how Kuin was stringing them along,” said Shindo. “For real, who else is unattached for the roses?”

“There’s always Tatami,” said Dabi, because this was fast but he’d be dumb not to take advantage.

“Other than Tatami,” said Shindo.

“What’s wrong with Tatami?” said Dabi.

Shindo scowled harder. “You’re with Tatami. Either she’s with you or there’s bullsh*t afoot and I’m not interested in bullsh*t.”

Okay, yeah, Dabi could respect that, but replied, “I don’t like bullsh*t either. I’m trying to be transparent. Are you interested in her?”

“No,” said Shindo, crossing his arms.

Hawks raised a brow, clearly having picked up something weird about that. “We’re not going to snap at you if you are.”

“Obviously. But no, I’m not,” said Shindo.

He remained stubborn in his position, but Dabi was convinced the issue wasn’t about Tatami herself. There was some kind of fringe factor that had Shindo wary.

All too soon it was time to get ready for the night’s activities. The men came piling back into the building to change and argue, and Shindo slipped away in the ruckus. Dabi grumpily switched into ‘nicer’ clothes of his own, and followed the group out in their weird formal lines again. They convened in the palapa as they’d done the first time, and Sato was waiting for them.

“Welcome back everyone!” said Sato. “What’s everyone’s thoughts on the last few days?”

“It’s been fun!” said Mongoose.

“The absolute best!” La Brava trilled.

“I HAVE GREATLY ENJOYED GETTING TO KNOW EVERYONE BETTER!” said Inasa.

“No regrets,” said Romero.

“That’s all wonderful to hear!” said Sato. “I’m so glad that you’re all coming into tonight with such great attitudes. But I think we all know that appearances aren’t always what they seem, and at the end of the evening you may be in a far different position than you’d expected. I want everyone to take your time talking to the people around you. Who is it that you feel closest to right now? Is that person someone you can see yourself with not only in the upcoming days, but outside of Paradise? This is the time to confirm your decisions. As you’re aware, it’s the women who have the roses this time. Men, if by the end of the ceremony tonight you haven’t been given a rose, you will be going home. For now, make the most of your time. I wish you all luck, and I’ll see you later tonight at the rose ceremony.”

He ducked out of the palapa and the free for all began. As the contestants all loudly made for the bar, Dabi pulled Tatami aside and said, “Go for Shindo.”

“Are you really sure that’s a good idea?” said Tatami, surprised.

“He didn’t ask you out on the date because of me,” said Dabi. “He thinks we’re committed, and apparently he’s got more moral fiber than half this cast put together. I tried hinting that I’d be okay with him going for you but you might want to back it up on your end so he knows it’s a genuine thing.”

“Oh? You hinted?” Tatami smirked. “Something tells me that was done with all the softness of a sledgehammer.”

“Sure, fine, I’m not subtle,” said Dabi, rolling his eyes. “Regardless. Reach out to him. He hates Kuin’s guts so you don’t have any competition from his date earlier.”

“Okay, I’ll try it,” she said, and she did seem enthused about it.

Dabi took a backseat to the hubbub as everyone split into pairs, broke apart, and split into different pairs. He claimed a perch on one of the bar stools and watched everyone for any sign of women that might be good to target.

Mongoose leaned a little too heavily into Inasa to be open to anyone else.

Amplifier was a gossipmonger and while she wasn’t horrible Dabi didn’t want to stay in her presence for longer than twenty minutes.

Fuwa was a prime candidate, but she was also being pursued by every other man in between their other targets. Literally, the only one that didn’t approach her was Shikkui, and that was only because Zookeeper planted herself in his path.

Chikuchi the cake-killer wasn’t handling Fuwa’s renewed popularity well and whining so loudly to Tokuda (bless his saintlike patience) that her voice carried over all of the other conversations.

Kuin was consolidating her pack of admirers and playing them off of each other again, and was clearly miffed when Shindo straight up turned and walked in the other direction.

X was all over Takahiro, simpering and touching all of his feathers but glancing back at Hawks every once in a while like she was annoyed that she was stuck with one avian quirk over the other.

Claire Voyance looked on them all with eyes that were dead but judgmental. She looked ready to eviscerate anyone who approached her, and Dabi had no idea what had pissed her off to that extent. Maybe the fact that Tokuda was still stuck with Chikuchi even though he clearly wasn’t interested in her? Who knows.

Sadly the most approachable woman was La Brava, and yeah, she wasn’t an option herself, but maybe between her and Tatami he could wingman his way into the rose ceremony? When she came up to the bar for a refill he tried to strike up a conversation.

“So… HTML, am I right?”

La Brava looked at him as if he’d grown another head and said, sincerely, “Are you drunk?”

Dabi gave up on that attempt fast, and La Brava skipped her way back over to Romero. Almost immediately Gentle came to the bar and whispered urgently, “Did she say anything to you about him?”

“Romero? No?” said Dabi.

“Damn,” said Gentle.

“You still hate that guy, huh?” said Dabi.

“I swear, he’s not a good person,” said Gentle. “He only talks about it in hints right now, but he’s not nearly as committed to La Brava as she is to him. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he pulls the rug out from under her and goes for someone else.”

Dabi glanced over the crowd again. “Anyone in particular?”

“Absolutely anyone,” Gentle grumbled. He tried to school his features back into pleasantness as another contestant came back for a co*cktail. “Oh, X! How are you doing this evening?”

“Good as ever. Takahashi and I are going strong,” said X.

“You and who?” said Dabi.

“You know,” said X, rolling her eyes. “Takato.”

“…Takahiro?” said Dabi.

“That one,” said X.

“It sounds like you really hit it off on your date,” said Gentle. “Are you planning on giving him your rose tonight?”

“I think so. Takao’s not as cool as Hawks, but I guess he’s cool enough,” said X.

“…Takahiro?” said Gentle.

“Whatever his name is,” said X.

“I’d have thought you of all people would know his name,” said Gentle.

“I know it’s Taka-something,” she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Who cares if it’s Takaomi, or Takaya, or Takami—” two groups over, Hawks gave a weird and violent start, “—or, I don’t know, just plain Taka? He should be more memorable if he wants me to remember his name. It’s not like it matters. I can just call him Taka, and he’d accept it as a cute little pet name.”

“Wow. You’re a piece of sh*t,” said Dabi.

“Um, f*ck you? You’ve got nothing to do with this,” said X.

“Maybe not, but I don’t think Takahiro would be interested in you at all if he knew about this,” said Dabi, already standing with the intention of telling him.

“Right, because he’s going to take it so well from the guy who had a big enough ego to corner him and tell him he’s so unattractive that he should give up being here.”

Dabi faltered. “I didn’t say that.”

“Pretend all you want, but you burned that bridge when you ‘dumped’ him. He’s not going to want anything to do with you after that insult, and if you’re trying to undermine his relationships even after that?” She shrugged. “Look and see where that gets you. I dare you.”

She flounced away with her drink.

Dabi dropped back into his seat, furious. “I hate her as much as I hate Chikuchi.”

“Oh my god, right?” said Amplifier, seemingly manifesting out of nowhere, and both Dabi and Gentle jumped.

“Where the f*ck did you come from?” said Dabi.

“The hot tub. You know, you can get from one end of this resort to the other a lot faster if you jump off the terraces. You just need to know how to land,” said Amplifier, leaning on the bar. “Can I get a strawberry daiquiri? Thank you! Ugh, but X. You know she’s stirring up trouble everywhere she goes tonight. When La Brava said she was confident with Romero, X told her to ‘get real.’”

“She what?” said Gentle, affronted.

“Yeah! I mean, it’s Romero so she should be going in with caution anyway, but what a jerk way to put it!” said Amplifier.

“I agree,” said Gentle, and did a double take. “You don’t like Romero either?”

“Hell no! He’s a jackass!” said Amplifier. “Besides, he’s already made out with Kuin tonight—”

“He what,” said Dabi. Half of him was stuck in dislike for the man, the other half impressed that Kuin had disappeared from her other suitors’ gazes long enough to accomplish that.

“Yeah! Even though he was on the daybed with La Brava earlier today promising her that she was the only one he had eyes for,” said Amplifier. “He’s mean and sneaky and selfish. Poor La Brava. It’s sad that she latches onto the first man who gives her attention so easily. I tried telling her what I’d heard about him, but she wouldn’t listen!” She leaned toward Dabi, intrigued. “Hey, you talked her sister around when Aiko was into all those crazy guys on The Bachelorette. Think you could do that here?”

“No,” Dabi said flatly.

Gentle winced. “La Brava… doesn’t care for us.”

“Wow. That sucks.” Amplifier sucked loudly on her straw, then announced, “I’m going to see what Mongoose is doing! See you!”

“Hang on,” said Gentle, hurrying after her. “Tell me more about what you heard—”

Dabi turned to the bartender and asked, “Is it always like this?”

The grumpy bartender glared at him and said nothing at all.

The crowd continued to move. People continued to make out. Dabi slumped against the bar, feeling more and more trepidation. He really wasn’t going to spot anyone he wanted to stick with for this ceremony, was he? Were pity roses a thing at this point in the show? He tried to find Fuwa in the crowd, but his eyes alighted again on Shikkui and Zookeeper. Zookeeper was doing a terrific job of looming even though she was shorter than Shikkui, and in response he was leaning away with a deeply uncomfortable expression on his face. All of a sudden Dabi had to grit his teeth against rising heat in his throat; smoke hissed through his teeth, thankfully unnoticed by anyone.

“Stall her,” he growled at the bartender, and strode over to them. “Hey. Zookeeper. You two are looking low on your drinks. Why don’t you get a refill?”

Zookeeper looked back at him with her horrible dead fish eyes. “You don’t belong here.”

“I was specifically invited to this beach, so yes, I do,” said Dabi. “What, do you think I’m trying to steal you away from him? Not interested.”

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “I am not intimidated by you.”

“Clearly,” Dabi drawled. “But hey. Like I said. You’re running low. Good significant others would get their partner a new drink, right? I think Shikkui wants to try out a Commonwealth.”

“A what?” said Shikkui.

“A Commonwealth. A co*cktail. Didn’t I hear you mention it before?” said Dabi.

Shikkui didn’t know what was going on but nodded slowly and played along. “Uh, yeah. It sounded cool.”

Zookeeper fixated on him for another five seconds (Shikkui visibly cringed), then said, “I’ll get it,” and beelined for the bar.

“…Why a Commonwealth?” said Shikkui.

“Because it’s complicated as f*ck to make and I dare that bartender to get all seventy-one ingredients in one glass in decent time.”

“Seventy-one ingredients in a co*cktail? That doesn’t really exist, right?”

“It does, but they probably don’t have them all on hand. Then she’ll stay over there badgering him about nerve of not having everything prepared for one of the most pretentious drinks in existence, and drag out her absence even longer so we can talk properly.”

“About what?”

“I need to be serious with you for a moment,” said Dabi. “This whole thing with you and Zookeeper is rubbing me the wrong way. She’s giving me thousands of red flags and you don’t seem to like her. Is that right?”

“I— Well, it’s— She’s intense,” said Shikkui, shifting uncomfortably.

“No kidding,” said Dabi.

“But it’s not… that bad. It’s kind of flattering to have someone that excited about you,” said Shikkui.

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Dabi pointed out. “You know it’s okay if you don’t like her, right? You don’t have to be with her.” Shikkui’s eyes flicked nervously about as if he thought that would instantly summon her wrath. Dabi’s own ire was stoked, but he kept it tamped down into a growl: “You know abuse comes in different forms, right? You’re not immune just because you’re a man dealing with a woman.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far in describing her,” said Shikkui, but wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“One of the worst things that an abuser did to my mother was isolate her,” said Dabi. “He took away her support system, her choices, and her confidence. He made her feel like she was supposed to obey whatever he wanted, that it was wrong for her to speak up. She might’ve had a key to the damn house but that didn’t matter if she was a prisoner in her mind. I feel like I’m watching that get instilled in you in real time. Zookeeper isn’t using her fists, but she’s sure as f*ck manipulating you and driving away any other choices and support. If you really are into her then that’s a choice I may not agree with but I’ll leave you to. But if I’m right and you just don’t know how to get out of it, I’m not scared of getting on her bad side. I can help you out. The others here will pitch in too. The only reason they haven’t said it to you already is because they’re trying to use tact while I don’t give a sh*t about that.”

For a moment Shikkui didn’t react, but when he did, it was with a shaky sigh and a slump of the shoulders, as if a weight had been taken off of him. Like some troubled thoughts had just been validated.

“I don’t think I’d put it the same way, like… abuse. Or manipulation. That. But. Yeah, she makes me uncomfortable,” said Shikkui.

“Great,” said Dabi, and cracked his knuckles. “I can’t kick her ass but we’ll call her out. Stick with me, Hawks, or Gentle— You know what, Shindo too. I’ll let him know, I’m sure Shindo would love to rip her a new one, and we’ll—”

“Actually,” Shikkui interrupted, “I want to stick with her right now.”

“You what?”

“The women have the roses this week,” Shikkui sighed. “You know she’s chased off any of them that I might’ve had a shot with. If I break from her right now that means I go home tonight, and all of this will have been for nothing. I want to stay, you know?”

Dabi crossed his arms, annoyed but resigned. “So. One more night of bullsh*t.”

“One more night. And then, when I’m in a position to make my own choices, I look for love for real,” said Shikkui. “Is that okay?”

“It’ll work,” said Dabi. “Still stick close to one of us tonight, though. We’ll try running… subtle interference.”

And they did. Dabi brought him over to the larger group nearby, relayed this to all non-Zookeepers in the vicinity, and Shikkui was drawn quickly into the fold. Some people—Kuin, Chikuchi, Tsutsutaka—seemed to scoff at the idea of a man being uncomfortable, but even Cider stepped in to obnoxiously reroute the conversation when Zookeeper returned (sans Commonwealth) and tried to lean on Shikkui with something sexual. Zookeeper seemed taken aback at first but settled fast into annoyance. She glared at Dabi. Dabi, for his part, raised his glass with a sneer of his own. Shikkui engaged with her in bits and pieces, clearly not the architect of this avoidance and so that mollified her, but she still stormed away at one point to sulk. As others drifted away again, this left Dabi, Shikkui, Gentle, and Romero lingering near the bar.

“I think tonight’s going pretty well, now? Thank you,” said Shikkui.

“Don’t thank us yet. The real work starts tomorrow,” said Dabi, poking at the red feather flitting near his elbow (Hawks had been backed into a distant corner by X but seemed more like he was zoning out than being an active participant in that conversation; Inasa was loudly answering for him and X was getting more and more annoyed, all while this feather was very blatantly snooping on Dabi’s own conversation). “Have you got an eye on any other people to pursue?”

“Most of the women seem to be taken,” said Shikkui. “I guess I’ll just wait for new ones to come in next week so I don’t land myself in a mess like the Kuin triangle…”

“More like the Kuin quadrangle,” Gentle muttered.

“How are you all doing in your relationships?” said Shikkui.

“Tatami and I are fine,” said Dabi, because he wasn’t going to allow any openings to non-Shindos.

“I think Amplifier and I have a lot in common, but a few too many differences to work with each other,” said Gentle, slumping a little. “I… quite frankly, I haven’t found anyone else I’m interested in…”

“That’s because you’re chasing after La Brava’s scraps,” Romero snickered.

“You’re the one who keeps leaving her behind all day!” said Gentle, affronted. “Where have you even been going?”

“I’ve been hard at work. See, my goal is to kiss four girls tonight,” said Romero.

“You what?” said Gentle.

“Four girls,” said Romero, smiling wider. “I’ve already got Kuin and Mongoose down. You want to know what I told Mongoose? That I’d never kissed a redhead before, and I wanted to give her the title.”

“Why the hell are you doing that?” said Dabi. “La Brava’s stupidly into you, there’s no way you’re not getting a rose from her. There’s no point chasing anyone else.”

“Of course there is! The point of Paradise is to have as much fun as you want.”

Gentle looked thunderous. “You told La Brava that you were all in with her.”

“Because that’s what she wanted to hear. It’s not like it matters. I’m more surprised so many of you are wasting your Paradise on one girl at a time.” Romero’s eyes fixed on X passing by and he rose from his seat. “Speaking of which… You should all watch and learn.”

Gentle seized his wrist to stall him. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“To spend Paradise properly,” said Romero, and shook him off before striding after X.

“That— That— Ooh, I hate him,” said Gentle. “We need to tell La Brava.”

And yeah, Dabi had hoped to keep a distance from La Brava, but the idea of this asshole lying and getting away with it pissed him off. He’d take whatever anger she dished out.

“We do,” he said, standing as well, and Gentle brightened.

Shikkui was clearly doing some mental math, and wheedled, “I’ll go stay with Hawks for now. Don’t want to, you know, get into any more drama.”

More likely he was hoping he wouldn’t be in the line of fire when La Brava blew up at them, therefore securing the option to swoop in and help pick up the pieces after the rose ceremony was over and woo her that way. Dabi didn’t much care at this point.

“You do that,” he said, and hurried off with the feather stuck to his sleeve and Gentle hot on his heels.

Locating La Brava was more difficult than it sounded.

She wasn’t near the treehouse room where Tatami was attempting awkward conversation with Shindo.

She wasn’t on the beach, where Tsutsutaka and Chikuchi were making up with each other on a daybed with a can of whipped cream (Dabi physically covered his eyes and doubled back the way he came, wishing rather desperately that they’d kept that kind of activity to the Boom Boom Room).

She wasn’t on the terraces near the bar or the pool or the palapa.

“Well where the f*ck did she go?” said Dabi, ready to rip his hair out.

Hawks’ feather shuddered as if in laughter, tapped his arm, and zoomed off. Trust the hero to have marked everyone’s location. Dabi and Gentle followed it all the way out to the edge of the resort where Misty had set up his confessional previously. La Brava was sitting on a bench next to the glow of the vending machine, plucking petals from a flower with a besotted look on her face.

“He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me n—” She paused, fingers on the last petal left. After a moment’s hesitation she ripped that petal off, beamed, and said, “He totally loves me!”

“Oh, god, this is going to be so awkward,” Dabi muttered. “Uh, hey, La Brava. We need to talk.”

La Brava looked up and her bright expression dissolved into a scowl. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk to you about Romero,” Gentle said quickly. “He’s not being honest with you.”

“As if I’d believe you,” she scoffed. “I’ve watched The Bachelor and Bachelor in Paradise before, I’ve seen all the tactics people use when they’re trying to force a breakup.”

“We’re not trying to force anything, we just want to make sure you’re aware of what’s going on,” said Dabi.

“Spoken like a true schemer,” said La Brava, tossing away the flower stem. “Even if Romero was out of the picture, it’s not like I’d be dating either of you. There’s no point in you trying anything.”

“We aren’t trying anything. If you don’t wish to speak to us at all after this we’ll gladly accept that! I just hate the idea of someone you’re supposed to trust lying to you or crossing your boundaries,” said Gentle. “You two agreed that you were committed to each other, right?”

“We are,” said La Brava.

“He just bragged to us about kissing two other women tonight and looking to kiss more,” said Dabi. Hawks’ feather poked at him, as if rebuking him for the bluntness.

La Brava puffed herself up, livid. “How dare you talk about Romero that way! He’d never cheat on me!”

“Unfortunately he is,” said Gentle. “I—I wish we had a gentler way of putting it, but—"

“I don’t believe you,” said La Brava. “You’re just here causing trouble because one of you is jealous that he can’t get with the person he wants, and the other’s looking for distractions since he doesn’t even know what he’s doing here! Romero’s twice the man you two would ever be.”

She stormed off, and they followed.

“I’m sorry,” said Gentle, and he really looked it, “but it’s unfortunately the truth. If you ask anyone else, they’ll confirm it too—”

“Why, because they heard it from Amplifier? She needs to learn when to shut her mouth,” said La Brava.

“You could ask Mongoose and Kuin, since those were the ones he said he kissed.”

Her expression darkened. “Mongoose wouldn’t do that to me either!”

“I’m sorry—”

“Just shut up! I’m not playing into your stupid games!” At this point La Brava dropped her volume, presumably to be polite as they approached the vicinity of the hot tub where so many “romantic moments” apparently happened on ceremony nights. Instinctively Dabi quieted to match.

“This isn’t a game!”

“Sure it’s not! Just take your sad lives and—"

“You’re supposed to be with La Brava.”

They all froze. That last voice had been somewhat faint, originating from the terrace right above them. If one stood on a chair and swept aside some flora they’d be level with the hot tub, where Zookeeper was sitting with her feet in the water.

“You really care about La Brava?” Romero laughed. By the sound he was shifting, beginning to crowd her.

“No, but you’re with her,” said Zookeeper. “And I’m with Shikkui.”

“Shikkui? The guy who won’t give you the time of day right now? Even I’ve noticed how he won’t talk to you directly tonight,” said Shikkui. “Shikkui doesn’t know what he’s got. He’s not going to accept your rose.”

“He will,” said Zookeeper.

“He won’t,” Romero said in a sing-song tone. “Come on, let’s be real. He doesn’t appreciate you. But I would.”

La Brava looked up at the foliage, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“I’d appreciate all of you,” Romero purred. “You’re so passionate. Shikkui’s scared of it, but me? I’d fantasize having all that attention on me. That’s so hot.”

“You already have La Brava’s attention,” said Zookeeper.

“That little twerp?” said Romero, and La Brava jolted like she’d been slapped. “I like passion, not desperation, and she reeks of it. She’s just easy.”

“That isn’t true!” Gentle whispered fervently, but La Brava didn’t seem to notice him.

“She’ll give me her rose so I’ll get through tonight’s ceremony easy. Then I’ll go after a real target… like you,” said Romero.

“I’m not giving you my rose,” said Zookeeper. “Shikkui will accept it.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Romero. “But next time, after all that truth comes out and Shikkui doesn’t give you his rose, you can count on getting mine.”

Zookeeper was quiet a moment, and then, “Jealousy can make someone more passionate.”

“Yeah?” Romero’s leer was audible.

“If I make Shikkui jealous he’ll be more passionate. He’ll show how much he loves me,” said Zookeeper.

“And how are you going to make him jealous?”

“Kiss me.”

That was all the invitation needed. They made out. Enthusiastically.

Dabi eyed La Brava, unsure of her reaction. From what he’d gathered she was the type to blow up and screech at whoever wronged her, but that wasn’t what she did now. Even as her eyes welled with tears, she sealed her mouth tightly shut.

“La Brava…” Gentle reached for her, clearly uncertain but wanting to offer some kind of comfort. She did not appreciate it. La Brava slapped his hand away, turned on her heel, and fled silently into the dark. Gentle’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, dear. I… I think we hurt far more than we helped.”

“We aren’t the ones who did the hurting,” said Dabi, scowling in the hot tub’s direction.

It had been a hard truth, but one she needed to hear.

“But she’s not going to— Dabi, who’s going to be her support?” said Gentle. “Mongoose was one of her closest friends, and if she can’t count on her and suspects everyone else… What if she’s just alone tonight?”

Dabi rubbed at his temple, feeling a headache coming on. “I think we tell Tokuda.”

Tokuda held the same position in Paradise’s hierarchy that Trumpet had claimed over The Bachelorette: he was the man that knew everything, who everyone would turn to after the hotheads made a mess, who would make a decision and then steer the drama of the resort wherever he wanted. Where Trumpet had used this to make sh*t worse, though, Tokuda was mostly concerned about stopping that sh*t before it even started. He’d shut down passive-aggressive comments from Zookeeper, drawn in loners when other competitors had tried to isolate them, called out lies before they could gain traction, and had a habit of talking over conflicts calmly and rationally enough to validate all parties and get them to back off of each other. It was pretty impressive, all the better because he tended to end conversations with, “I’m so glad you were able to resolve this. I’m going back to my hammock over there but let me know if you need anything later.” Nothing could shake his calm.

Hawks was already on board; by the time they reached the stairs he was already on the way to meet them with Tokuda in tow. Tokuda listened to their story with a concerned frown, and when they were done said, “I don’t like how it played out, but I’m glad she knows. I was trying to find a method of convincing her what was going on, myself. You beat me to the punch. I’ll see what I can do to help, but she’ll need some time to process.”

“Just our luck it happened on a rose ceremony night,” Dabi grumbled.

Tokuda gave a weak smile. “That’s always how it seems to go, isn’t it? At least she’s the one with the rose. It would be so much worse if this took her out of the running completely. Please excuse me, I think I know where she went.”

He hurried off. Hawks watched him go with a sigh. “Horrible timing, really.”

“Yes. Terrible at any time.” Now that the ‘fight’ was over, Gentle was wilting. “I know I went in with intention to help, but I hurt her worse. I… Well. I think I’ll take some time alone. Thank you for coming with me, Dabi, and for the support, Hawks.”

He sulked away for more comfortable seating.

Dabi rubbed a hand through his hair, feeling tired. “How long until Sato calls us all back together?”

“Not very long at all,” said Hawks. He shifted, wings pulling in and shuddering a little before forcibly relaxing. “Hey, uh, I don’t want to dig into anything painful, but there was something La Brava said…”

“About Mongoose making out with Romero? She might not be the best option for you this time around,” Dabi grumbled.

“No, more what she said about you,” said Hawks. “The, uh, one of you is jealous that he can’t get with the person he wants, and the other’s looking for distractions since he doesn’t even know what he’s doing here. That bit.”

Dabi wrinkled his nose. “Yeah?”

“I was wondering which one of those she meant was you, and if there was any way I could help.”

The first one, of course. And yes, Hawks had a lot of power over that, but it was a possibility not worth hoping for, so Dabi ignored it. He huffed and lied, “The latter.”

Hawks could’ve replied with many things. But you were the one who first asked to go to Paradise? Why are you bothering with something out of character if it wasn’t interesting to you? Hundreds of things. But he didn’t. He eyed Dabi like a detective might eye a cipher, and finally said, “If you’re looking for distractions, I’m always happy to help.”

This felt like it was meant to have further meaning, but what that might be Dabi had no idea.

“Okay, everyone, back to the palapa!” Misty called almost twenty minutes later. “It’s rose ceremony time!”

They all trudged back to the palapa to sit on the couches.

Drama had obviously gone down out of sight, because everyone was tense. La Brava’s eyes were red but she’d meticulously scrubbed her face clean and reapplied her eyeliner. Mongoose looked horribly guilty. Kuin looked more smug than ever. Romero was agitated, passing his co*cktail glass between one hand and the other.

Chikuchi didn’t give a single sh*t about anyone else, and was busy making bedroom eyes at Tsutsutaka. “I think tonight went so well.”

“It did,” said Tsutsutaka. “I might even toast to it later.”

“To love,” she simpered.

“To Paradise,” he replied.

“To the two of you shutting up,” Dabi said under his breath. Hawks was the only one to hear this, and jokingly swatted him with a wing. “What? You don’t want to listen to them going on any more than I do.”

Romero’s expression twisted before he forced a grin. He stepped out in front of everyone and said, “You know what? I’ve got a toast myself! And instead of all the cliches, I’m going to get real. La Brava!” She shuddered. Tokuda rested a hand on her shoulder and gave him a warning look, but Romero went on, “We had one of the best dates I’ve ever been on, so it’s a real shame to find out you were full of sh*t.”

“Excuse you?” said Mongoose.

“Don’t talk about La Brava that way!” said Tatami.

“You know what? You all are! Every single person here is full of sh*t,” said Romero, waving a hand at them all.

“Oh please, you’re just getting all whiny because you got found out,” said Cider. “What did you think was going to happen when you announced you were going to kiss all the girls here? You talked sh*t about your girlfriend when she was literally ten feet away from you. Idiot.”

“If anyone’s full of sh*t here, it’s you,” Gentle agreed in a grumble.

“And this all fell according your plans, huh, old man?” Romero snapped. “You’re the one who wanted La Brava. Good luck getting any from the little bitch, even if I’m gone—”

“You take that back!” said Gentle, leaping to his feet.

“I’m telling it like it is! She’s a little bitch—”

The next second they collided. They were grappling with each other, teeth bared, and for a moment everyone else was too shocked to move. Hawks was the first to react, pulling Gentle backward while Tokuda jumped in between them.

“Calm down,” Tokuda said sharply. “We’re adults here. This isn’t the place for a fistfight!”

Gentle relented, trying to exhale all his anger in a sharp huff. Romero, though? Romero tossed whatever hadn’t already spilled out of his cup onto Tokuda and Gentle both.

“Eat sh*t,” he spat, and turned— directly into Sato’s path. They looked at each other, nose to nose.

“Sit down,” Sato said firmly.

Romero fidgeted. “I don’t—”

“Sit down,” Sato said again.

Romero snarled and obeyed. Everyone on his end of the couch turned up their noses and scooted several inches away. Sato nodded his approval and said, “Misty, could you get Gentle and Tokuda clean shirts from their luggage?” Misty saluted and hurried off. Sato looked over the contestants and said, “We do not condone violence.”

Gentle looked cowed. He bowed deeply and said, “I’m sorry. I promise this won’t happen again.”

“Good,” said Sato. “If we catch anyone getting physically aggressive with other competitors, they will be sent home. Certain producers that must not be named may have allowed or even encouraged it in the past, but that is no longer tolerated. Are we all in understanding?”

Everyone nodded and mumbled their agreement. Romero said nothing, just scowled, but Sato had a close eye on him. When fresh shirts were brought in and Gentle and Tokuda were presentable again, Sato went to his usual spot on the floor next to the table of rose boutonnieres, took a deep breath, and summoned his host persona.

“Welcome, everyone, to tonight’s rose ceremony. I said earlier that we may find ourselves in much different positions than we were in the beginning of the night, and that seems to have proved true for most of you. Now is the time that you get to choose what is working and what isn’t, and who you may want to proceed with here in Paradise. Again, the women have the roses. You’ll come up one at a time, and choose the man you want to be in a relationship with. Men, if you do not receive a rose, you will be going home. Ladies, are you ready? Good. X, we’ll have you come up first.”

X swanned up to the little table, picked up a rose, and aimed a smile at them all.

“Takahito,” she said.

For a moment nobody moved. Takahiro quirked his head, eyes wide as if to say, Really? X gave him a meaningful look as if she’d said it right, and he decided to play along. He accepted her rose and they went back to their positions.

“Ah,” said Sato, awkward. “I suppose—Hm. Zookeeper, it’s your turn.”

Zookeeper predictably gave her rose to Shikkui. She didn’t release it at first when he went to take it; she looked him dead in the eye and said, “You’re mine,” much to everyone’s discomfort.

After that came La Brava, who said, “Tokuda.”

Romero sneered. Tokuda raised his brows in surprise but accepted the rose, and this threw off all the other couples, if only by a little.

Claire Voyance picked Gentle, who she’d barely interacted with.

Amplifier picked Shindo, who unfortunately accepted.

Tatami curiously didn’t seem affected. When her name was called she went up next to Sato, picked up a rose, and immediately said, “Dabi.”

Huh. He hadn’t really expected that, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Dabi went to meet her, and Tatami said, “Whatever happens from here, I think we make a good team. Will you accept this rose?”

“I will,” said Dabi, and let her pin on the little boutonniere.

Fuwa was highly anticipated, but all the men who liked her slumped when she called for Hawks. Dabi sensed absolutely zero romance from them, so this was likely a stalling tactic with someone she considered safe.

Chikuchi chose Tsutsutaka.

Mongoose chose Cider; he looked suspiciously back and forth between Kuin and Itejuro, weighing his chances, but ended up accepting.

This left Itejuro as the only one of Kuin’s strung-along choices not spoken for. His chest swelled with pride as Kuin stepped up, and… “Inasa.”

“WHAT,” said Inasa.

“What?” cried Itejuro.

“I said Inasa,” Kuin said with a fakey pout.

“I— But you— But we—” Itejuro looked ready to pass out.

“I mean, I could always go with Romero,” said Kuin.

Before Romero could register that, Inasa was stomping forward. “NO NEED. I WILL ACCEPT THIS ROSE.”

So all the women were accounted for, and Itejuro and Romero were left rose-less.

“You’re all crazy. None of you know what you’re doing. You know what? I’m glad I’m out. f*ck all of you,” said Romero, and stormed away.

Itejuro stayed put, still working on comprehending what had happened. His friends gave him hugs and sent him on his way, but he kept looking back as if waiting for Kuin to shout psych! She didn’t, of course.

“And so our rose ceremony comes to a close,” said Sato. “It’s been a turbulent night, but you’ve survived, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it all informs your choices in the future. Will our current couples stay strong enough to make it through the rest of Paradise? I’m looking forward to finding out. Have a good night.”

The contestants happily disbursed.

“I’ve always hated rose ceremonies but that has to be one of the worst ones I’ve ever seen. f*ck Romero,” said Dabi, as they were wandering back.

“Agreed. Is that a normal ceremony for Paradise?” said Hawks.

“More normal than not,” said Tatami; she and Fuwa were walking on either side of them. “You didn’t watch a lot of Paradise before coming, did you?”

“I’ll admit that I did a lot more research with the Bachelorette portion,” said Hawks.

“Paradise is full of curve balls,” said Tatami.

“You really never know what you’ll find here,” Fuwa agreed, but she and Tatami seemed far more amused than the men were; they leaned just enough to exchange a meaningful look with each other.

“What was that?” said Dabi. “What are you two planning?”

“Nothing!” Tatami sing-songed.

“Nothing you’d be mad about, anyway,” Fuwa giggled.

Dabi decided quickly that he didn’t want to know.

Summer vacation had just begun, and with everyone retreating from their various campuses, the Bachelor watch parties were in flux.

Most of Natsuo’s group had traveled back to their home prefectures or were on vacations with their families—Yukina was sending him lots of selfies from her trip in Hakone, including one of her making a fake-surprised face in front of her hotel TV that just happened to be showing an ad for Bachelor in Paradise—so he had nowhere to be.

Fuyumi was gone for the week. She was the advisor for a game club at her school, and for once her little gamer charges had been interested enough to do an activity—they were at some kind of gaming retreat with other schools somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo, and she was so thrilled to chaperone them that she’d almost cried. With her gone, Rumi was likewise out of the picture on patrols.

U.A.’s classes were freed from the dorms for the vacation, which meant Shouto was hanging around the manor again; Natsuo had packed up and gone to join him for the holiday, to make sure he wasn’t alone in that house— because yeah, Shouto seemed plenty capable of entertaining himself, but that didn’t mean he should have to. As it turned out, Shouto hadn’t been planning on solitude at all.

“I’ve invited everyone for Girls Night here,” he said, before Natsuo had even put on his house slippers.

“You’ve what?” cried Natsuo, and for good reason: parties and Todoroki house weren’t typically considered together.

“No one else’s house is big enough,” Shouto said without batting an eye.

“And you’re not… worried about how Endeavor’s going to react?” said Natsuo.

“Fuyumi said it was okay,” said Shouto, as if that were all the approval needed.

“Oh… cool… uh… Who all is supposed to be coming?” said Natsuo.

Shouto began to count on his fingers. “Class 1-A. Class 1-B. The Big Three in third year. Mr. Aizawa and Eri. Shinsou. The support class…” He kept on listing them, and Natsuo was torn between wondering if Shouto was massively popular or had just invited everyone who so much as breathed in his vicinity.

“How many do you think will actually show up?” Natsuo interrupted. “Not that they wouldn’t want to, but have you made sure that you’re going to have supplies for all of them? Drinks, snacks, chairs, you know?”

Shouto put a hand to his chin and squinted into the distance. “Super Princess Himiko already has a watch party, so she probably won’t come.”

“You invited her?” Natsuo spluttered. “Wait, back up a second. You know you don’t have to call her by her whole username, right? You can just call her Toga, or Himiko.”

“Super Princess Himiko did like being invited though, so I don’t regret the invitation,” said Shouto, as if he hadn’t heard him. “Monoma will try to convince class 1-B not to come because he doesn’t like us. Aizawa is very busy. Amajiki wouldn’t look at me when I asked him to pass on the invitation to the Big Three…”

He had of course not considered the idea of RSVPs or gotten everyone’s phone number, but they managed to estimate an idea of who’d likely show up. It was still a very big number. And of course Shouto had also neglected to do any sort of planning to host them. Natsuo had a whole new appreciation for Fuyumi as he raced around the manor, cleaning, ordering refreshments, and digging out more seating cushions. Luckily Endeavor had (once upon a time, probably before Natsuo was born) hosted parties for his agency at the house, so there were plenty of those cushions. Yeah, maybe they smelled like mothballs, but with a little Febreze, smelly foods nearby, and willful ignorance, he was sure no one would complain. They were better than the floor, at least.

By the time evening rolled around Natsuo still felt a little panicky, but all things considered he thought he’d done pretty well. He took a picture of the catered food and sent it to Fuyumi with the caption Shouto’s lucky we’re rich, then hurried off to do one more check for insurgent dust bunnies.

The first person to arrive was Yaoyarozu from Shouto’s class, rolling a massive suitcase behind her.

“I know it’s a little different from the usual Girls Night, but I wanted to bring all the supplies, just in case!” she said, radiating enthusiasm.

“Did you bring more olive oil?” asked Shouto, completely straight-faced.

“I did!”

Natsuo had been lost in that conversation from the start and resigned himself to not understanding anything this evening. Shouto went to show his classmate where everything was set up, and Natsuo took up position as the doorman so his little brother could socialize.

Half of Class 1-A showed up, including the one whose uncle was apparently the show’s host (he brought cake, very welcome).

A smattering of Class 1-B made an appearance too, headed by a blond guy that loudly, theatrically called for dethroning 1-A. Probably Monoma. A girl with an orange pigtail whacked him over the head, apologized for his behavior, and dragged him into the house like a very sad bag of rice. No one seemed to think that was unusual.

The Big Three appeared. Two of them were aggressively bright and social, while the third one lingered in their shadows absolutely shivering in anxiety.

A girl with pink hair and funky goggles showed up, lugging bags that put Yaoyarozu’s to shame. She was breathing heavily with a kind of manic grin that sent a shiver down Natsuo’s spine. He turned to the others to double check that she wasn’t some strange rabid Endeavor fan, and Midoriya said brightly, “Oh, no, that’s Hatsume! She’s with the Support class.” Tenya Iida, who’d been attempting to approach Shouto, immediately blanched at the girl’s name and started evasion maneuvers.

Shinsou made it, too. He looked kind of like a zombie with astronomic bedhead, but it only took three seconds to realize he had more braincells than half this room put together. He just wasn’t a dick about it.

By this time the house was loud and crowded, and when Natsuo did a headcount he saw they were already over the expected numbers. Good thing they’d ordered extra of everything. He was just about ready to slink off and leave this U.A. party to it when another knock came at the door. He went for it, thinking maybe one of the teachers really had showed up; surely this many hero students in one place might attract another chaperone?

It was not a U.A. teacher on the doorstep.

It was an H.P.S.C. worker.

Natsuo hadn’t interacted with the H.P.S.C. directly very much, but every time he did he came away frustrated and unnerved. They allowed Endeavor to get away with his sh*t attitude, for one; for another, while many of their programs seemed good on the surface—hero therapy, healthcare, support items for those at need—all these things were also stupidly convoluted to implement, as if they were hoping the maze of paperwork and the fact that you needed a dictionary at hand to decipher it all would discourage anyone from participating. There had also been the time when his class had been allowed a tour of one of the H.P.S.C.-run healthcare facilities, and Natsuo had opened his mouth to challenge something their guide had said… only for an upperclassman to put a hand on his arm to stop him. There had been something about the bleak hostility of the place, of the set of his upperclassman’s jaw, that cowed him into silence. Their guide at the time had been Mera, a skeletal man who looked like he wanted to fall asleep and never wake again.

It was Mera on the doorstep.

“Endeavor’s not here,” Natsuo said firmly, already moving to close the door. “Go check his agency.”

Mera leaned to keep looking through the gap in the door, a weird, predatory smile on his face. “Aw, Natsuoooo, don’t you recognize me?”

Natsuo faltered. He didn’t think Mera was even capable of such a bubbly tone. Mera grinned wider and leaned back again, bringing his hands up to frame his chin the way girls did to show off their nails and makeup in a purikura booth.

“Heehee, if you don’t, that’s cool, too! I win twenty thousand yen! Shiggy said there was no way you’d fall for it and I shouldn’t even try, but he’s a loser this time, too!”

Wait a f*cking second.

“Toga?” he gasped.

“Yes!” trilled Toga-not-Mera. “I’m super excited! Shouto asked me to come, and he said Ochako would be here too! Are they here already?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, come on in,” said Natsuo. He was still confused, but Toga had mentioned something about a copycat quirk before, hadn’t she?

Toga had been carrying a grubby little backpack and shoved this into Natsuo’s arms as she entered the genkan. Suddenly there was a bunch of weird gray goo sloughing off of her, and the real Toga came climbing out of it. Natsuo only got a glimpse before thinking, oh god she copied the clothes too, and held the backpack in front of his face like a shield. Toga giggled and yanked at the zipper; apparently that was where she kept her change of clothing. She shrugged on a cutesy pink outfit, but her entrance had not gone unnoticed.

Another boisterous laugh echoed from the ground, and up from the hallway flooring rose that blond member of the Big Three. Mirio? Whatever his name was, only the top part of his body surfaced and that was a blessing because he also seemed to be naked.

“Same quirk effect!” he cheered, holding out a hand.

Toga shook it with another laugh of her own. “Same quirk effect!”

“This is a meme, isn’t it?” Natsuo groaned.

“Maybe! I—”

But then Mirio slid down out of sight. Natsuo and Toga stared at the spot as if he’d reappear, but he didn’t.

“Is he dead?” said Toga.

“I think he slipped,” said Shouto, watching the spot from his own position further in the hallway. “That happens. Welcome, Super Princess Himiko.”

“Shouto!” she squealed, and rushed to hug him. It was a testament to his character growth that he accepted it without fuss. “My second favorite person in 1-A! Thank you thank you thank you for inviting me! I’ve never been to a party before!”

“Neither have I,” said Shouto. “We have food. It’s over here.”

“Free food! Do you have anything with blood in the sauce—”

“Yes. Natsuo special ordered it when he heard I invited you.”

“You guys are the best!”

Natsuo followed them over to the kitchen where all the food had been laid out. Students were already swarming for seconds before filtering out into the dining room or the courtyards to mingle. Someone was shouting that “Sugarman” and “the lipid queen” were going to devour everything in a show of their quirks, so Natsuo hurried to get his own share of the food before it all disappeared. This focus meant he lost track of much of the conversations; by the time he had his plate piled high and was on his way out again, Shouto and Toga had cornered another 1-A girl who’d been hovering around the food tables.

“Ochako… Can I have some of your blood? Just a tiny bit?”

Uraraka said something, but her mouth was so full of food it was completely incomprehensible.

"You probably shouldn't,” Shouto answered for her. “Uraraka doesn’t eat enough. If she gave any blood right now she might get dizzy and pass out, and then you couldn’t talk anymore.”

Toga gasped. “Noooo! Ochako, you’ve gotta eat lots!” She proceeded to heap more food on Uraraka’s plate, much to her crush’s delight.

“Hey, Shouto, I’m going to the courtyard. Let me know if you run into any problems,” said Natsuo.

“Okay,” said Shouto.

Natsuo went on, doing his best to weave through the many high schoolers without getting stuck in any conversations. In the hallway he ran into the super-anxious member of the Big Three (Amajiki?) who was slinking around in search of their missing member, carrying Mirio’s clothes.

“Is he going to be okay?” asked Natsuo.

“Y-yeah, it’s… fine,” Amajiki stuttered. “He has a permeability quirk. His clothes don’t.”

“That happens,” Shouto said again from behind them.

Amajiki gave a nervous shrug of agreement but didn’t seem any more panicked than his baseline, so Natsuo left him to it.

The courtyard had always seemed overly big, but it seemed much less so when other people were inhabiting it. Hatsume had dumped her many bags here, and was pestering a group of other students sitting on the edge of the engawa.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she said, with each iteration leaning closer to her current victim, “I need somebody big to test my babies! Iida was a great help in the festival so I made these with him in mind as a model—”

“But he’s nowhere to be found, huh?” said Sero, laughing uneasily. “Be that as it may, I don’t think this guy is a good option—”

“Nonsense!” She leaned even further, voice getting shriller. “My babies can adapt! You’d fit perfectly!”

Her target was an absolute hulk of a student with rocklike features but zero confidence; he leaned away far enough almost to topple over, waving his hands frantically as if to say, No! Not me! I’m a terrible choice!

“How good your babies are doesn’t matter if the model doesn’t have the will to use them, ribbit,” said Asui.

Thankfully this made Hatsume pull back again, though her words were at odds with the motion: “Nonsense! My babies can do everything even on their own! If anything, the less experienced the model, the better!”

“I’m sorry, babies?” said Natsuo, perplexed.

The students all looked up at him. The five 1-A kids motioned desperately for him to escape, but Hatsume beamed like he was the second coming of All Might.

“You! You’re perfect!”

“Actually he’s not,” Sero said quickly. “Todoroki’s brother isn’t in heroics at all! No training whatsoever! Also I think he might be quirkless—”

“Perfect,” said Hatsume. “You wouldn’t skew my results! Come here, come here, come here—”

“You don’t have to do it, Todoroki bro!” said Kirishima. “We already know you’re manly! You don’t have to prove it!”

“You might get injured,” said Shoji.

“It would be mentally scarring! Iida still hasn’t recovered!” said Sero.

“Don’t force yourself, ribbit,” said Asui.

Koda gestured like he was trying to warn Natsuo away from the gallows.

Yikes!

“I’m sure this isn’t going to kill me,” said Natsuo. “Uh, what is it exactly?”

“You’re going to try out my babies!” said Hatsume.

She whipped open the bags and pulled out what looked like robotic limbs.

“Oh! Support gear?” said Natsuo. “You’re sure I don’t need a quirk for this?”

“Who cares about quirks?” said Hatsume. “With my babies you’d be climbing the ranks in no time!”

The students still looked uneasy, but Natsuo? Natsuo was thrilled.

“I’ve always been curious about this,” he said, going closer for a better look. “I always thought it was strange that support gear couldn’t be repurposed to help in prosthetics. Have you considered those too? I know you’re pretty young and early in your career, but—”

“Pfft! Of course!” said Hatsume. “If a hero gets an arm bitten off they should still get to kick butt! Oh, and for civilians, even if they’re not fighting, my babies could revolutionize their lives! I’m signing up for medical courses soon, and then, haha! Look out world, my babies will be the most advanced, the cutest, the best babies!”

“I’m studying medicine myself, so if you end up with questions about it later or are looking for connections, I’d be glad to help wherever I can,” said Natsuo.

“Absolute perfection!” said Hatsume. “Here, put these on! We’ll start testing right away!”

She helped him put on a number of different things, including: hover soles (big metallic boots that let him hover a little above the ground and zoom around in the air), a jetpack with auto balancers (more maneuverability), evasion bracers (which sensed all directions and would automatically launch the wearer away from any surprise attacks), and a capture gun (which looked like a megaphone but actually shot nets at enemies). Apparently these were all new and improved versions of gadgets she’d advertised in the U.A. Sports Festival. She set up targets for him to shoot the capture net at, used the capture gun on him to see how his equipment would auto-evade, and then had him go through multiple exercises to feel out how to use the equipment manually. She took copious notes on the slightest of movements.

Natsuo actually enjoyed it. He’d never really thought of support gear as something he could use; it had been off in another world with heroes and Endeavor, as real to him as the polar ice caps. He felt a certain childish glee as he zipped around the courtyard. It was nothing he wanted to do in the long term, but a fun experience regardless. Like ziplining.

“Beautiful!” Hatsume cried when they’d gone through all her tests. “As expected, you were perfect!”

“And so are your babies, I suppose?” Natsuo laughed.

“Nope! These are junk now,” Hatsume said cheerfully. “I’ve already got about forty-eight improvements in mind! I’ve got to get started on them now!”

She rushed into the manor again, presumably after another notebook. Natsuo gaped after her.

“You should really take those off,” said Sero with a wince.

“I guess?” Natsuo pulled them off and set them gently back into their bags. “You know, that wasn’t nearly as scary as you were all making it out to be.”

“Well, this time nothing exploded. That’s rare,” said Kirishima.

“I’m sorry, what—”

“She’s a genius, but not everything works. I’ve heard horror stories about her ‘My Adorable Baby’ device.” Shoji shuddered.

“Don’t feel bad about her leaving the ones you tried behind, ribbit,” said Asui. “She’s like that with all her inventions. Even the ones she made for our class, they'll work for us perfectly but she’ll say they’re not good enough anymore if you talk to her the next day. She’s always improving.”

“I guess that’s a good mindset,” said Natsuo.

Hatsume didn’t return. When Natsuo finished his food and went back inside, Shouto informed him that she’d left entirely.

“What?” Natsuo spluttered. “But she left her babies! She didn’t even want the scrap from them?”

Shouto shook his head and said only, “It happens.”

“You keep saying that.”

Eventually the hour arrived. Not everyone was interested in the show so remained in their own groups and conversations, but the majority packed into the living room. It was genuinely impressive how many people they managed to fit in here. Natsuo stayed on the side next to the shoji door so Shouto’s group had the best view.

“Welcome back to Bachelor In Paradise,” announced the host, who really did kind of resemble his 1-A nephew now that Natsuo thought about it. “We’re one episode into the season, but already we’ve seen drama, we’ve seen tears, but most of all, we’ve seen our contestants coming together and forming what may be real and lasting relationships. Will they survive the tides of Paradise? Stay tuned, and we’ll find out!”

Being the second episode, the show now needed to introduce everyone quickly, so as the theme song of Almost Paradise played, quick clips of the participants were shown with their names. Hawks was the second up, featured sitting at a bar and winking at the camera while holding some kind of fruit. Dabi’s showed him stretched out on a patio chair with an uchiwa fan in each hand, flapping wildly in a desperate attempt to cool himself off. The other participants were equally ridiculous. Their clips included: making a heart shape with their hands; jumping naked out of some rocks; yoga on a beach towel; holding an “available” sign; floating on a unicorn inflatable; reading a book titled “Seven Ways To Start Drama,” kissing their own biceps; using multiple cameras to take selfies of themselves; catching a coconut and being confused about it; deadlifting a log; kissing a parrot; and pouring a massive glass of wine. With each introduction the group burst into new peals of laughter.

The episode proper started out with Team Hotwings, because of course it did. As all the contestants were at breakfast Dabi came in with a cardboard box, seemingly convinced it held a prank of some kind. It sort of did, because it was a pair of cutesy boots.

“They’re kind of a staple of his wardrobe,” said an amused Hawks in the confessional. “I figured, why not add some color?”

“They’re so cute, I’m so jealous,” said Amplifier in her own confessional.

“I wonder if Hawks will tell me where he bought them? I kind of want some for myself,” said Fuwa.

“I can’t believe this,” said X. “Hawks is giving Dabi presents now? I mean, yeah, they’re tacky shoes, but that’s still not fair! They’re not supposed to be together! They said they weren’t together!”

“I will never live this down,” said Dabi, but wore the dumb boots anyway.

Toga laughed so hard she was almost in tears.

But that was not the last of the Hotwings woes. No, after the host made his little speech they got their first newcomer.

“There are a lot of really great options here in Paradise,” Takahiro said in the voiceover, atop clips of him talking to various women. “Anyone here is a catch. But I’ve got my eye on…”

The camera switched angles, zooming in on Dabi lazily waving an uchiwa fan with the pattern blurred out.

“No way,” said Toga, thrilled. “No way!”

“Anyone who’s been keeping track of the last few seasons can tell that Dabi and Hawks feel something for each other,” said Takahiro, now shown in the confessional. “Team Hotwings is really popular for a reason. But the thing is, they’re not actually together! They’ve denied it to anyone who’s asked, and they gave other people their roses last night. That’s a pretty obvious sign. I think it’s probably something to do with Hawks’ reputation. Maybe he’s ready to date but not willing to make the leap to dating other guys. Maybe he’s straight? Or maybe Dabi likes him as a person but isn’t willing to get that involved with heroes since he hates them? Whatever it is, they’re staying apart, but if Dabi’s into avian quirks, that means I’ve got a chance. If Hawks isn’t taking it, why shouldn’t I?”

The show cut to Takahiro and Dabi talking on the beach, and then the request to show him something. Then Takahiro started flying, and Natsuo had secondhand embarrassment so deep he could feel it in his bones.

One of the high schoolers took it worse: Tokoyami had reeled back, hands up to cover the eyes of his Dark Shadow quirk while Dark Shadow reciprocated by covering its host’s eyes too.

“This isn’t happening,” he said. “I’m not seeing this.”

“Why? What is it?” Ashido demanded. “Give me this tea!”

“It’s a hawk courtship display!” Toga squealed, typing on her phone.

“No!” Uraraka gasped.

“It definitely is,” said Toga. “Spinner lets animal-ish stuff from his quirk show through all the time, so I looked up all sorts of hawk mating habits just in case Hawks started doing it too! This guy’s totally trying to woo Dabi!”

“Wooing is kind of the point of the show though, right?” said Kirishima, shooting Tokoyami a concerned look. “Why are you looking so embarrassed about it?”

“Because nobody sane does a sky dance for someone they’ve only met that day!” said Tokoyami.

“The agency’s going to riot,” Dark Shadow chirped.

“Well, I guess if Takahiro’s trying to steal Dabi from the number two pro hero he’s got to pull out all the stops,” Yaoyarozu said thoughtfully.

“Dabi said it was cool,” Ashido wheezed.

Because he had, thereby signaling “yeah I’m interested” even if he clearly had no idea what he’d just witnessed.

Hawks was pissed. For the whole aerial display he’d been glaring as if tempted to fly up and smack Takahiro out of the sky, but when “that was pretty cool” came out of Dabi’s mouth, he’d looked scandalized. But did Hawks say, hey I’d rather you didn’t go out with that guy and dated me instead? No! That would’ve been too easy. Hawks’ plan was to prevent Dabi from being asked on the date at all by keeping him out of sight until selection time was up. He brought Dabi on a zigzagging tour of the resort, using feathers to clue him into wherever Takahiro was going so they could expertly backtrack. It was a laughable and embarrassing game of human keep-away. Even more laughable was the fact that it worked. The show switched between clips of Takahiro’s pursuit and Hawks’ seemingly random tour, always just missing each other. Near the end of his allotted time Takahiro took to the skies again.

“This is totally Hawks’ fault,” he grumbled in the voiceover. “Well, if I can’t find them, I’ll look for that cameraman who was following them! He’s got white hair, he should be easy to spot! …Why can’t I see him anywhere?”

The truth was that Hawks had anticipated this and lured the cameraman off the path and out of sight from above. Sneaky bastard.

Almost immediately after that the show veered off into other couples, most specifically Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka. They were shown going into a dark room with some sort of night vision camera, where they threw themselves on a bed and made out.

“Oh no,” said Natsuo, absolutely burning with embarrassment. Was this a sex scene? When he was stuck with an entire house full of teenagers?

It was!

Thankfully it didn’t record any further than the makeout scene, but the episode made it very clear what had happened! And then they went out and announced they’d been in the Boom Boom Room!

“Boom Boom Room!” Kaminari almost wailed with laughter, and it became a chant.

“Boom Boom Room!”

“Boom Boom Room!”

“Wow, Aizawa’s going to hate this,” Mirio said cheerily; he and the other members of the Big Three had settled next to Natsuo as a kind of bastion of would-be elders.

“I’m going to hate this,” Amajiki muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Boom Boom Room!” Nejire cheered.

The show followed around the couple’s new groupies as Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka bragged about the experience. Then it circled around the other competitors, the jealousy that they hadn’t been invited to the Boom Boom Room yet (after knowing each other for three days! If that!!), only to be capped off by Dabi and Tatami’s talk about going in there just for air conditioning, and also sister-zoning. That drew more laughter out of the watch party, but it quickly evaporated as the conversation got heavy.

When I was a kid, my quirk hurt me. It got worse with emotions. When I was sad, or angry, or even happy, I’d burn and burn and couldn’t stop.

Natsuo could remember that. When Touya had rambled at night, sometimes flames would spark along his eyes like tears and he’d bury his face in his pillow to douse them. For years his pillowcases smelled like smoke and had holes burned through the fabric. Touya had been so ashamed of it. Natsuo tried covering it up by claiming he’d stolen pillowcases to use as placemats for craft projects or towels to clean up after muddy sports games, and he was the one to ask for new ones; he’d ramble all of these excuses to Rei while she was preparing dinner and Touya was out training. Rei had never responded to any of those lies, but bought more pillowcases every time. In retrospect she’d probably known what was going on.

It was survival to shut everything down. So now, I don’t… I feel things and I don’t know what they are.

And wasn’t that messed up? No wonder he hadn’t gone after Hawks yet if he was still coping with his quirk like that. How bad had it gotten after puberty? Had it settled at all? Natsuo glanced at Toga and found her watching with rapt attention, phone up to cover her mouth. No confirmation from there.

Tatami took Dabi’s rejection pretty well and opened up about her own issues, and they ended in nice peaceful harmony.

Harmony went down the toilet as the episode went on. There was so much drama between the other couples.

Romero was an asshole trying to get with other women immediately after coming back from his date, which was sad when La Brava seemed so genuinely excited to be with him.

Chikuchi and Tsutsutaka fell apart loudly and spectacularly.

Nagamasa went home and left Fuwa floundering.

Zookeeper was still creepy as hell.

Amplifier was gossip-crazy and made the Kuin group’s competitiveness worse. It was like three men were playing tug of war over her and she still went skipping off with newcomer Shindo rather than pick any of them.

Gentle was way too interested in what was happening with La Brava.

Takahiro was still fussy about having missed taking Dabi on a date and tried (failed) to usurp Hawks’ spot next to him. He failed so badly that Dabi later put him out of his misery(?) with the worst rejection Natsuo had ever witnessed, and was then so embarrassed about it he got himself drunk and danced on the beach where Hawks pined so obviously after him that literally all the gathered teenagers yelled something along the lines of “Just ask him out already!”

Shindo was also an issue on his own. Tatami liked Shindo. Dabi supported her in pursuing Shindo. Shindo did not appreciate this.

“I don’t understand why Dabi’s trying to get me to look at Tatami,” he said in a confessional, slumped in a chair with his arms crossed. “They’re already together. It has to be a trap. But even if it isn’t a trap, I still wouldn’t go for Tatami. She—” He scowled even harder. “She’s nice. She’s been through enough sh*t after standing up for herself on The Bachelor. She doesn’t need the kind of sh*t that comes with dating a ‘series villain’ on top of it.”

“Aw, he really does like her!” Hakagure cooed.

“Yeah, now if only he’d get over himself and accept her!” said Ashido.

They were rolling into the rose ceremony now, and it was clear that neither the Team Hotwings or the Shindo-Tatami ships were sailing. Natsuo excused himself and started cleaning up rather than suffer through the drama. He could of course hear the party’s loud reactions and snippets of the show (by the sound of it Romero was proving an even bigger asshole than before), but put it largely out of mind. Watching in such a large group had unnerved him; it was so much easier to laugh and run commentary when it was in a smaller group of his peers. His phone buzzed and he checked the screen.

I can’t believe X doesn’t even know her boyfriend’s name, Yukina had texted. She’s called him eight different names so far and all of them are wrong.

A smile tugged at Natsuo’s lips and he texted back, I’d say he should give her a taste of her own medicine but how can you mistake a name that’s only one letter?

Start lengthening it the way she’s shortening his. Xenia. Xanthe. Xena. Xo. Xavier.

Where are you getting all these?

I looked up a baby name site. Don’t judge me.

Nice. But you need to go more ridiculous. Those names are too dignified.

Xylophone?

Yes. She will forever be Xylophone in my heart now.

A commotion went up from the living room, a great chorus of “OOOOHHHH!”

What just happened I’m in another room, he asked.

Gentle tried to punch Romero and got a drink thrown on him, said Yukina. Really out of character! But Romero deserved it. Roses are up next!

Natsuo leaned around the doorframe to watch the rose handouts, and snickered when X messed up Takahiro’s name straight to his face.

“Dabi wouldn’t have done this to me,” Takahiro said bitterly in the voiceover. “Not that I care. I’m over him.”

A few roses later Tatami picked Dabi.

“I’ve made my decision,” she said in her confessional. “Coming into this I was hoping for Shindo, and it’s clear that’s not going to happen. I’m honestly not really into anyone else. So, my roses from here on aren’t going to be used on me. I’m dedicating this season not to my own love life, but to Dabi’s!” Her eyes flashed with determination. “Because you know what I learned? It’s not that he doesn’t like Hawks, it’s that he doesn’t realize he likes Hawks! They’re so totally into each other, they’re just dumb! They don't understand their own feelings! I’m using my rose to keep Dabi in the game, and I convinced Fuwa to do the same with Hawks! We’re going to make Team Hotwings work if it’s the last thing we do!”

“Yes! Yes, yes, Tatami is the best!” cried Toga, throwing up her hands. “Get them together, they’re too dumb to figure it out on their own! Save Dabi from himself!”

“He does need some help,” said Shouto.

Natsuo wheezed.

Now that Tatami’s on board, how many people do you think I have to fight to be president of the Dabi support club? he texted.

At the rate this is going? Half of Japan, said Yukina.

The episode came to a close, and the credits scene featured Dabi, Cider, and Gentle trying to get a coconut down from a tree.

The party didn’t end at this point, but from here on it certainly died down. Guests left in twos and threes, excitedly thanking Shouto for inviting them and gossiping about the show on their way out the door. Certain members of the Girls Night lingered and likely would for a while, giggling about their beauty routines. Shouto eventually came in to check on how Natsuo was doing. He didn’t assist with the cleaning; he had his hands held limply in front of him, the sparkly ice-blue nail polish on them not quite dry yet.

“I think it went well,” he said.

“I think it did,” said Natsuo, amused. “If my high school class had a party like this I guarantee you this place would be trashed. How are a bunch of hero students so polite? Is it because you blow off steam in practice all the time already?”

“Also Aizawa would be disappointed in us,” said Shouto.

“Aw. That’s pretty wholesome,” said Natsuo.

“It’s unpleasant to experience,” said Shouto. “Also he says he’ll expel us if we don’t behave properly.” Natsuo eyed him with more trepidation—Eraserhead did have a reputation for expelling students for the slightest reasons, so it was a miracle that 1-A hadn’t had a loss yet—but Shouto looked back at him without concern. “It’s a bluff. None of us are worried.”

But it was still a bluff that kept them all in line, apparently!

“Hey there!” said Mirio, ducking into the kitchen. “Sorry, but have you seen Toga anywhere?”

“Why? What’s up?” said Natsuo.

“She’s not part of U.A., but she’s in the same age grouping as my juniors. As an upperclassman, I feel responsible for making sure she gets home safe,” said Mirio. “If her house is near anyone else, they can take the train together! Buddy system, right?”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Natsuo. He honestly didn’t know where Toga lived at this point. Dabi’s first interview had been in Kamino, and a bar had been mentioned, but he’d never been able to pinpoint it…

“Oh. She left already,” said Shouto.

“Did she?” Mirio laughed. “I hadn’t noticed. How impressive, that she got past all of the Big Three! Maybe she should go into stealth heroics.”

He ducked back out again.

Shouto tipped his head, curious. “I didn’t realize he was paying such close attention to her.”

“Maybe it was because of that ‘same quirk effect’ thing?” Natsuo guessed. “Quirk bonding? That happens, right?”

“Maybe? I wouldn’t know,” said Shouto.

When the food was cleaned up and most of the crowd gone, Natsuo started putting away all the extra cushions. He hurried them back to the storage room, and on the third trip he noticed that Hatsume’s bags were still in the courtyard. She really hadn’t returned for her babies. He grumbled and lugged these into the storage room too, but stopped short as he spotted another person.

“Midoriya?”

“Oh! Hi!” said Midoriya, looking very much like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“…Got lost looking for the bathroom?” Natsuo guessed.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it! One of the girls was in the main bathroom and I really had to go so I couldn’t wait, but when I tried to get back, I got lost!” He laughed unevenly. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, you’re almost back already. Just take this hallway down, go right along the courtyard then take the second door on the left,” said Natsuo, gesturing over his shoulder.

“Cool!” said Midoriya, but hesitated. “Um, I’m sorry, but… Is it possible for me to stay the night?”

Natsuo had no idea what would’ve brought this on—Endeavor wasn’t on his way back tonight for any debrief with his interns, there was no terrible threat to hero students, the weather wasn’t bad, and as far as he’d heard Mrs. Midoriya was an anxious angel so nothing to avoid—but the reason became immediately obvious when, directly behind him, Shouto said, “You want to?”

Natsuo jumped. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“The living room,” said Shouto. He had the last of the spare cushions tucked under his arms, but his eyes were fixed on Midoriya. “You want to stay longer?”

Midoriya went red. “I-i-if it’s not any trouble!”

“Oooooh,” said Natsuo, a wicked grin crossing his face. “You know what? Sure! Just make sure your mom knows. I’m sure Shouto will be glad to hang out with you longer.”

He waggled his brows at Shouto for comedic effect but it was useless because Shouto only had eyes for his crush.

“We still have lots of supplies for Girl’s Night,” said Shouto. “Now that we’re not watching anything we can try cucumbers on our eyes. Or you could eat them instead.”

“I think I’ll give it a try!” Midoriya chuckled.

Natsuo took the cushions and sent them off back to the living room to have fun with the other stragglers. Ah, puppy love. Fuyumi would be devastated to miss this. Then again she’d probably be hovering over them to witness it, so maybe it was better that she was off in Tokyo right now.

With the cleaning done for the moment Natsuo intended to leave them all to their own devices for the next few hours. He retreated toward the other end of the house, only to falter partway to his room.

The door to Touya’s room was open.

Toga had not left. She was here, squatted before the shrine and squinting at the photograph.

Did she know who Dabi was?

Natsuo was torn. On the one hand he’d been trying to forge a link with the League, to return to his brother’s life, and if the League knew what was going on and agreed to help that would be a lot easier. On the other hand, what if the League didn’t approve? They’d lived years with scarred Dabi, hearing tales about his sh*tty home life, and surely if they were his new family they’d hate the idea of him being hurt. If Natsuo had heard a friend tell even vague stories along those same lines he’d be telling them to cut all contact forever; maybe the League would do the same. It would be fair. But the idea of losing him again after coming so close…

Natsuo approached cautiously. He knocked lightly on the doorframe so she knew he was there and stepped inside with a wry smile. “I see you found my brother.”

Toga looked up at him. She was smiling as usual, but it was weirdly… quieter than before. “I did. He looks cool.”

“The coolest,” Natsuo chuckled. “He was my favorite sibling. Not that Shouto’s not cool too, but…”

“But it’s different. I get it,” said Toga. “How long ago did he die?”

“Twelve years ago,” said Natsuo. “He was the oldest of us.”

She hummed and straightened up, rocking on her heels and swinging her shoes in each hand. “If you could say any one thing to him, what would it be?”

Natsuo gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “I don’t know. How do you condense more than a decade of wishing he was still here? There are so many things I want to say, I wouldn’t know how to put it in one sentence without it all falling short.” But then it occurred to him to ask, “What do you think he’d want to hear?”

Toga smiled wider and said, “I miss you.”

It seemed too small a thing to say. Already self-evident. How could that possibly convey the longing, the bitterness, the loneliness, the joy that his brother was alive? But Toga knew Dabi better at this point. Natsuo would trust that. He’d trust her.

“That’s putting it all really lightly, but thanks. I’ll remember that,” he said.

“You better!” she laughed.

Suddenly the air behind her distorted— a black fog swirled into being like some big portal to hell. Oh, sh*t! Natsuo knew having this many hero kids in one place would draw some kind of villainous attention! He reached to pull Toga away from it, but she danced out of reach.

“Toga, get back, there’s—"

“It’s my ride home!” she chirped. “Kurogiri’s got a teleport quirk, so we get to see all the coolest places!”

“Oh! Oh, that’s… Um. You’re sure?” Natsuo said weakly.

“Totally!”

Well, now he felt pretty stupid. He tried to pretend normalcy as he said, “Well, I’m glad you’re getting home safely. Thanks for coming to the party. You can probably tell it was Shouto’s first one, but we were glad to have you here.”

“It was lots of fun! You should invite me for the next one! You can invite the rest of the League too if you’re looking for people. Just absolutely don’t invite Shiggy, whatever you do!”

“Because he wouldn’t appreciate it?” Natsuo guessed.

“Probably not! But mostly I’d just want to rub it in his face,” said Toga. “See you!”

She brandished her shoes in a wave before jumping into the portal. It closed behind her with a little wisp of black mist, leaving the room empty like she’d never been there at all.

Chapter 5: How To Wreck A Script

Chapter Text

Paradise dawned bright and, per usual, unbearably hot.

Drama was probably already afoot; Dabi had woken blearily at some godawful hour of the morning to find Gentle sneaking out of the bedroom. If it had been anyone else Dabi might’ve dragged himself to wakefulness and suspicion, but Gentle? If Gentle wanted to start sh*t it would be entirely valid. Dabi could get behind a Gentle takeover of Paradise. More power to him. While it was dark he’d simply rolled over, but when he woke for real when the sun was up properly, he was happily anticipating whatever move Gentle was taking.

“Has he done anything?” said Dabi, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Know of any plans yet?”

The singular red feather on the floor nearby wobbled in acknowledgement but nothing more.

“I meant Gentle,” said Dabi.

The feather stood on end now with interest; clearly any plan of Gentle’s was news to Hawks.

“Ah, forget it. He probably just went out on a walk,” Dabi grumbled.

The feather spun in a circle before zipping over to a new box placed next to his bed, obviously the new boots for this episode. These were bright orange, with cutesy tiger faces on the toes. Dabi heaved a long-suffering sigh but pulled them on. The feather glued itself to his arm and he trudged out to join the others.

All the other competitors were gathered in the dining area again, waiting for the episode’s official kickoff. It was deceptively peaceful. Yes, Zookeeper was circling the edges of the crowd like a scavenger; yes, La Brava was glaring down at her breakfast like it had personally offended her; and yes, Cider and Tsutsutaka were needling at each other; but everyone was sitting together and talking in level tones so it was much better than the last few days. Hawks was the first to spot him approaching; he looked Dabi up and down with an insufferable smirk and said, “Looking good!”

“f*ck off,” Dabi grumbled, kicking at the ground with his dumb tiger boots. “Did you get these out of the kid’s section?”

“You’d be surprised how many kids ended up with gigantification quirks,” Hawks laughed. “I get specialty clothes for my wings, and sometimes if I’m bored I’ll keep scrolling through the specialist sites to see what other things they’ve got on sale. There are crazy stories in the reviews, too. Did you know a mother in Osaka got a pair of shoes in that size for her three-year-old? Three years old and almost six feet tall already… Poor kid’s going to hit his head on so many doorways.”

Dabi scowled. “You got me children’s shoes—”

“They fit, don’t they?”

“Hawks,” said Amplifier, stretching herself out on the table to grab his attention. “Hawks, you have to give me the name of the website. If I don’t get those boots I’m going to die. They’re too cute.”

“Sure, I can do that!”

“It’s really sweet that you’re getting Dabi presents like this, Hawks,” said Fuwa, though she looked a little embarrassed to say so.

“Really thoughtful!” Tatami agreed quickly.

“Yes,” said Gentle, “It— It’s really clear how much you care about each other!”

Dabi squinted at them. Why were all three commenting on this? Why, when it was considered old news? He turned to Hawks and said bluntly, “Are you trying to bribe me or something?”

“Wasn’t my intention, no,” said Hawks. “Why? Can you be bribed?”

“Depends. What would you be bribing for?” said Dabi.

“Don’t know, but I could come up with something, probably,” said Hawks.

“You would need bribes,” Takahiro muttered.

Hawks’ smile went rigid and he turned to face him. “What was that?”

Takahiro’s feathers poofed a little and he glared into his cup. “Nothing.”

Thankfully any argument was cut off before it started, since Sato chose now to make his appearance.

“Good morning, everyone!” he called, and the competitors happily greeted him back. “Welcome to another day in Paradise! How are you all holding up so far?”

“Paradise really does deserve its name,” Kuin simpered. She leaned seductively toward Inasa, but even if Inasa had accepted her rose yesterday he wasn’t one of her brainless admirers; he leaned away at the same time, so they didn’t touch at all.

“I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO NEW OPPORTUNITIES,” he said.

“Absolutely!” said Shikkui.

“I’m glad to hear it!” said Sato. “Last night the women gave roses to the men they’re most interested in, which means this time the men have the roses. You’ll have new arrivals coming in to shake things up, and while they will bring date cards with them, you may also find a card waiting here in the resort for an established couple. Keep your eyes and ears open and consider what you’re looking for in your forever partner, and I hope you enjoy the upcoming surprises. There’s a big one coming your way shortly.”

With that vaguely foreboding speech out of the way, Sato departed again.

Just as they had in the last interval, everyone immediately started gossiping about who was likely to come down the stairs. It seemed to switch off—when women had roses men would arrive, so when men had roses women would arrive. Very neat, in that it would cause the most mess and instability to the existing competitors. Dabi had no idea who might be coming in, but he didn’t much care. If he had the rose, nothing could stop him from passing through the next ceremony unscathed. While the men elaborated on who they hoped to see and the women grumbled about competition, Dabi went for a second helping of breakfast. Hawks accompanied him.

“So, Shikkui,” he said quietly. “Any specific plans on how to get him out of Zookeeper’s clutches?”

“The easiest way would be if the newcomers all like him and immediately want to take him on dates. Third wheels aren’t allowed on dates. And here at the resort, the rest of us can give Zookeeper the runaround,” said Dabi. “I’m sure it won’t be as easy as it sounds, but…”

“But I think everyone here is on our side about that,” Hawks chuckled. “With the entire resort against her…”

“We should all be free of her pretty quickly,” said Dabi.

Hopefully the new arrival would be a ten out of ten: a hot, confident bombshell of a woman who’d be instantly smitten with Shikkui and have the self-confidence and force of presence to rebuff any of Zookeeper’s moves.

This was not the case.

At least Sato had been right: a big surprise was a very apt description.

The woman who came down the stairs was a stupidly tall heteromorph with a pointed snout and pointed ears, sharp teeth and clawed fingers. She had some sort of shark-fox looking quirk, but whatever tricks or nasty attitude those two animal types might’ve brought to the table, they’d completely cancelled each other out. Her every movement was tightly controlled, ginger, as if she worried any step might break the ground under her. She ducked overly cautiously below one of the tall garlands in the entryway, shuffled to clear it, but once she was certain she’d made it without incident and straightened up, her head smacked into one of the hanging lanterns and she ducked back down with a squeak.

“Oh, man, that’s not a great start,” Hawks murmured.

“They’re going to eat her alive,” Dabi agreed.

“Look out! Look out!” Amplifier giggled, rushing forward to take the woman’s hand and guide her along a less perilous route.

“Th-thank you!” the woman stammered. When she came level with them she bent overly low as a precaution, her whole face flushed with embarrassment. “Um, hello! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Hello! Welcome to Paradise!” said Fuwa.

“Ooh, I recognize you! I’ve seen you before!” said Tatami. “What was it, two Bachelor seasons ago? Three?”

“Three. I was on Riku’s season of The Bachelor,” said the woman. “I’m Ippan Josei.”

‘Ordinary Woman.’ She either had the sh*ttiest parents in existence or her self-esteem was so nonexistent she had to resort to this kind of nickname to plea for kindness. That was pretty f*cked up.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Ippan Josei. You’ve got a date card in your hand there, don’t you? Why don’t you read it aloud for all of us?” said Tokuda.

“O-Of course!” She held up the card and read aloud, “Choose a man for an adventurous day in Paradise. I, um, it looks like there are a lot of handsome men here, I hardly know which to choose! Could I speak to a few of you to make a decision? Starting with Shikkui?”

This was just as Dabi had hoped, and sure enough Shikkui perked up too.

“Absolutely!” he said. “Do you want to walk on the beach as we talk?”

“Sure, if you’d show me the way?”

“It’s just over here—”

The two of them moved off without further delay. Zookeeper had stood from her own seat as if to block them, but between Takahiro’s wings suddenly unfurling, Inasa standing up to block the rest of her view, and Claire Voyance’s ‘accidental’ spilling of a glass of orange juice, she was waylaid until they were well out of sight and kept corralled inside the breakfast area.

“I knew she was big on that episode, but she’s huge!” Cider laughed. “Think she’s ever played basketball, or do you think she’s disqualified for height?”

“She looks like she’d run straight into the backboard,” Chikuchi snickered.

“Hopeless, that’s what she looks like,” said X. “How much do you want to bet she goes on that date with Shikkui?”

“As if! She’d probably m-m-mess it up so bad she doesn’t even ask him out correctly!” said Kuin.

“Your jealousy is showing,” Claire Voyance said dryly.

“Me? Jealous? Oh, please,” said Kuin. “I have my pick for any man here in Paradise.”

“Except Inasa, apparently,” said Cider; he was clearly fed up with her two-timing ways and dismissal of Itejuro enough to have lost all his old interest in her. “And Dabi, and Hawks, and Shindo— I could keep going but I might list all of Paradise.”

“You’re just a sore loser. Isn’t he?” Kuin wheedled, turning her false sweetness on Tsutsutaka.

“Excuse you? That’s my man,” said Chikuchi.

“I think Tsutsutaka-baby can choose wherever he wants to go,” Kuin simpered.

Cider opened his mouth again to complain, then caught sight of something else; his eyes widened and he practically tripped out of his chair in the haste to get around to the other side of the table.

“Uh oh,” said Tatami, tensing too.

“What?” said Dabi, casting around for whatever threat they’d spotted. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Zookeeper.”

“What about her?”

“Oh no, is she doing it again?” Amplifier stepped close as if Dabi was some kind of shield.

“What?”

“No, no, she lost her marbles,” said Mongoose, ducking toward him on his other side.

“Will someone explain what’s going on?” said Dabi.

“Damn, you really didn’t watch any of the episodes,” said Cider. “Zookeeper so far has been tame. She’s going into real Zookeeper mode right now.”

Dabi squinted at her. Zookeeper didn’t seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary. Yeah, she was watching the path Shikkui had just gone down, but that was it.

“You can tell by the eyes!” Tatami whispered. “When she looks at you her eyes are completely empty!”

As if to emphasize Zookeeper turned her head to look at them, and holy f*cking sh*t they were right. It was like having a staring contest with a shark, all reason and scraps of decency gone to leave a hostile shell behind.

“Somebody warn Shikkui,” said Dabi, not daring to break eye contact. “He can’t come back here. We can’t let him get cornered with that.”

“On it,” said Hawks, and sped away.

“How do we deal with real Zookeeper mode?” Dabi said urgently.

“You pray,” said Mongoose.

“You don’t,” said Cider, at the same time.

La Brava brought her fist down on the table and turned a livid glare on the woman in question. “Hey, Zookeeper. We have to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” said Zookeeper.

“No?” La Brava challenged. “Not even after you kissed my boyfriend last night?”

“It’s not my fault you weren’t good enough to keep him,” said Zookeeper.

“Hypocrite,” said Shindo.

“What?” Zookeeper said flatly, turning to face him.

“I said you’re a hypocrite,” said Shindo. “You cheated on Shikkui by making out with someone else. You’re not good enough to keep Shikkui, either.”

This all devolved quickly into a loud, raging mess.

La Brava and Shindo had decided that the best defense against Zookeeper was an offense. When exactly they’d formed an alliance Dabi had no idea, but they stepped up as one to verbally tear Zookeeper to shreds. The topics ranged between cheating, to social media activity, to being creepy in general, and it worked. Zookeeper was too busy snarling back at them to notice that Shikkui didn’t return. What did return was a group of red feathers which prodded their targets to gain attention before leading them away. A few friends were summoned to join Shikkui on the beach, while others were cycled through to speak with Ippan Josei wherever she’d been directed to. Dabi eyed the feather that was still stuck to his arm and said, “Good job.”

The feather gave a delighted wriggle but otherwise stayed put.

Since Zookeeper was so well preoccupied Dabi was free to step away without so much stress. He meandered toward the vending machines and, as he’d suspected, Misty hurried to meet him within a few minutes of his arrival.

“What’s up?” she asked. “Do you have something juicy that you absolutely need to share in a confessional right now, or do you need help with anything?”

“Just wanted to double check something,” said Dabi. “Curious isn’t on the crew anymore, but does anyone else want to interfere to keep drama like Zookeeper on? If there’s any pushback from producers I want to make sure we’ve got a strategy for it.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to worry about that,” said Misty. “Zookeeper’s already toeing some legal lines. If anything the producers will thank you all for getting her out before she brings the show and the company down with her.”

That was a little drastic for a company that catered to drama in the first place.

“Has she said something bad in confessionals?” said Dabi.

Misty grimaced. “You have no idea what kind of sh*t is staying on the cutting room floor. I’m not allowed to tell you, either! Just… we’re rooting for you guys. Knock her dead.”

“Gladly,” said Dabi, and returned to the main area of the resort.

As he was passing the hot tub he spotted a few feathers floating in a periphery. When he chanced a look, he found that Zookeeper was alone there with her feet in the water, looking out over the resort and biting her nails with a vicious expression. She was apparently under the impression that Shikkui and Ippan Josei were still talking with each other, because that was all she was muttering to herself about.

“The only reason he’d go out with her is sex appeal. It’s her only appeal,” she’d say as if Ippan Josei were some seductress, but the next second she’d hiss, “She’s so old! Who would want to date a thirty-two-year-old? Her eggs are dead!” as if she were completely unattractive.

Dabi backed away from that fast.

“Tell Shikkui that when he gets out of here he should look up restraining orders,” he whispered to the feather on his arm.

The next lingering feather he spotted was posted at the treehouse door, though this was only one and it rested on the ground rather than stand at the ready for ridiculousness. Ippan Josei was laying on a couch inside, looking miserable. The location had hidden her from the other competitors, but she still appeared to be talking to someone.

“So, I have a date card,” she was saying. “If people are already together I don’t want to interfere with that, but where do I go? I’ve talked to so many people, and this girl’s going out with him, and this one’s after that one, and these two are figuring things out… Where does that leave me? I don’t like that I have the date card.”

Who was she talking to? Dabi leaned further, squinting, and… it wasn’t another person. A crab had climbed its way onto the couch opposite her and was picking its way over the pillows, and she was talking to it like it had signed up to be her therapist.

“Maybe I should just pull names out of a hat,” said Ippan Josei, miming the idea. “Like, who wants to come? Oh, you do? That would work. Then I wouldn’t be choosing, really, and no one should get mad at me. But they’ll get mad at me anyway, won’t they?” She gave the crab a beseeching look. The crab predictably did not share any crustacean wisdom. She heaved a sigh. “Maybe I should just give the date card away so I don’t have to be anxious about it anymore… Zookeeper looked the most eager for a date, so—”

“Abso-f*cking-lutely not!” Dabi cried, jumping out of hiding.

Ippan Josei startled so badly she almost fell off the couch. “What— Who— Oh my god.” She cringed and her long ears wilted. “Um, how much did you hear…?”

“Enough,” said Dabi. “Look, you are here and you deserve your f*cking date. Pick some guy at random if you have to, and go on your date.”

“But everyone already seems to be taken,” said Ippan Josei.

“We’ve all known each other for like six days, no one is taken,” said Dabi.

“Still, I really don’t think…”

Oh, god, this was another Fuwa sort of situation, wasn’t it? Dabi fought the urge to roll his eyes and said, “Everyone was already aware that new people and their date cards are coming in. It is not a sin for you to pick someone. It’s expected. The other women will be pissy for like a day, and then they’ll make friends with you.”

“Still…”

“And if you do make the choice to give away your date card—which I do not support in any way but it’s not my f*cking decision—do not give it to Zookeeper.”

“No?” She tilted her head curiously. “Why not? Isn’t she part of an established couple?”

“No, she’s a stalker that we’re all trying to get booted from the season, and the only person she’d ask out would not appreciate the harassment,” said Dabi.

“A what?” said Ippan Josei, aghast.

So, Dabi sat down and explained the whole situation. Clearly none of the people she’d talked to earlier had mentioned this; they were probably hoping she’d go for the definitely-single Shikkui and worried that she might be scared off if she knew what was following in his shadow. They’d unfortunately been right, because she eyed her date card like it might be poisonous.

“I had no idea…”

“Don’t worry about it too much. We’re all united against Zookeeper right now so you’re safe no matter what you choose,” said Dabi.

“Thank you for telling me. It would’ve been scary going into that without a warning,” said Ippan Josei.

Speaking of scary, the feather on Dabi’s arm stirred into motion again. It tapped frantically as the one in the doorway spiraled and pointed away. Dabi cussed.

“Let’s get out of here. Now.”

Bewildered, Ippan Josei followed him out. He rushed her along the path, and behind them—

“You!” Zookeeper snarled.

Dabi shoved Ippan Josei toward the steps where Inasa had just appeared, and said, “I’ve got this, go!”

“TEAMWORK!” said Inasa. “COME ON IPPAN JOSEI, LET’S GO!”

“O-okay?” she squeaked, and away they went at a run.

Dabi turned and spread his arms, blocking off the path, and came face to face with Zookeeper.

“This is all your fault, isn’t it?” she said.

“Go look in a mirror,” Dabi retorted. “If someone says no to you, leave them alone!”

“Shikkui is mine,” she hissed. “You have no right to keep me from seeing him!”

“And you have no right to treat him like an accessory instead of a human being,” said Dabi.

“You don’t know anything.”

“You would be surprised.”

They held each other’s hateful gaze for a while longer before Zookeeper slowly backed off.

“You’d better watch yourself,” she said.

“f*ck off,” Dabi replied, and thankfully that was the end of it.

Dabi descended the stairs, trying to figure out where Ippan Josei and Shikkui had gone, but it was in vain; Hawks had tagged every single competitor with one of his feathers and was shuffling them around the resort to keep them from being tracked down. Only the people who were proven to get along were permitted to locate each other, which was how Dabi found himself flanked by Tatami and Fuwa fairly quickly.

“Isn’t this impressive?” said Fuwa. “He’s managing so many people at once… Do you think he picked it up in heroics?”

“Probably. I could see this being really useful in hostage situations,” said Tatami.

“Or in natural disasters,” said Dabi. That recent earthquake wasn’t far from his mind; Hawks had said he used all his feathers in the recovery efforts, likely marking out who was trapped and leading those who could move around hidden dangers. Of course he’d have no issue doing the same to a much smaller group in a resort.

“He’s so talented that way,” said Fuwa, her tone a little off as if she were reading from a script. “So dedicated. He’d make a really good boyfriend, don’t you think?”

Of course he would, not that Dabi would ever see that himself. He scowled and said, “I would hope you’d think that, since you gave him a rose yesterday.”

“Well, yes, obviously,” she said, flustered.

“Hawks has all the things someone would look for in a boyfriend,” Tatami cut in. “He’s honest, he’s kind, he has integrity… and he’s really attentive! I mean, look at the way he treats you, Dabi!”

“If you’re talking about Hawks and boyfriends I don’t belong in the conversation,” said Dabi.

“Wrong, because you’re the perfect example of his attentiveness!” said Tatami. “Look at your boots! Even before he was at the beach with you he thought about you and the kind of clothes you’d be most comfortable in, and he bought a bunch of them with fun designs to make you smile! If you’re down he’s always on his way to cheer you up or make sure you’re comfortable, and he’s always one hundred percent on board with your plans. Even this big push to keep Shikkui safe is only working because you were invested and Hawks is so ready to back you up. Don’t you think that’s sweet?”

“That still has nothing to do with boyfriends,” said Dabi.

“Girls would kill to have a boyfriend who’s so ride or die for them,” said Tatami.

“Attentiveness is one of the best things for a relationship. I’d definitely consider it romantic,” said Fuwa.

“Okay, but I’m not dating Hawks, so it doesn’t apply here,” said Dabi.

“But you agree that Hawks’ behavior is really attractive, right?” said Tatami. “If you were in a relationship with someone, you’d want them to act a lot like that, right?”

This was of course true. More true than she probably realized, because it wasn’t even someone similar to Hawks that he’d consider— it was Hawks or no one. He would never admit that, though.

“Why are you going on about this?” he said, giving her a suspicious look.

“Honestly? I’m trying to gauge who or what you might be into,” said Tatami.

“That doesn’t matter—”

“Dabi, you are in Paradise. This is where it matters most.”

Dabi decided he wanted no part in this conversation and looked around for a distraction. Thankfully there was a big one down a nearby path, and he beelined for it, calling, “Hey, Ippan Josei. You made it out okay?”

“I did,” said Ippan Josei, looking up happily from a cup of juice. The cup was so large it may have actually been a pitcher. “Thank you for that. And, um, hello! Tatami and Fuwa?”

“That’s right! It’s nice to meet you,” said Tatami. "So, who’s the lucky man who’s been picked for a date?”

“Oh, I think Tsutsutaka was the one who ended up going.”

“You think?” said Dabi. “Aren’t you the one who asked him?”

“No, I gave the card away,” said Ippan Josei. “I—I know you said I deserved to go on a date, but thinking about it really just made me worried instead of excited, and none of the men really stood out to me, so I decided to pass and give it to someone else.”

Dabi rubbed at his temple, exasperated but resigned. “Who’d you give it to?”

“Kuin.”

“Who?”

Ippan Josei blinked in surprise. “Was that a bad thing? She seemed so sad about not getting a card, and I thought you only said that it absolutely couldn’t be Zookeeper.”

“Kuin is… a lesser evil,” Dabi gritted out.

“She’s had a date already and hasn’t had any trouble getting men to fall for her,” said Tatami, shaking her head.

“…Sorry?” said Ippan Josei.

“Don’t apologize to us! If anything Kuin should be apologizing to you! I should’ve known she’d try one of her tricks if we weren’t paying attention,” said Tatami. “Just forget it and have fun.”

With the date card accounted for and the new couple departing the resort for their date, Hawks decided the danger had passed and brought everyone in to regroup near the bar. It was still a little tense (from somewhere in the trees Zookeeper grumbled, “Shikkui deserved that card. Out of everyone here he deserves it the most,” as if she weren’t ready to throttle any woman who tried asking Shikkui out!), but everyone was eager to return to a sense of normalcy and chatted with each other. Ippan Josei was brought into a conversation with Tokuda and Mongoose about summer festivals. Shikkui was a little saddened that Ippan Josei hadn’t been interested in him but happy to escape both Zookeeper and Kuin’s clutches. Chikuchi was channeling her own inner Zookeeper to curse about backstabbing boyfriends while La Brava tried to console her and Amplifier looked on with gossipy glee. Yeah, pretty normal for Paradise.

Gentle and Hawks settled on either side of him. Gentle seemed excited, as if whatever plan he might’ve had in place was going along well; when he thought Dabi and Hawks weren’t paying attention he turned and gave Tatami and Fuwa a thumbs-up for some reason. Maybe they were in on it? Hawks on the other hand seemed to have suffered a shock of some kind.

“Are you good?” Dabi asked him.

“What? Me? Oh, yeah. So good. Totally good,” said Hawks, and somehow managed to miss his mouth trying to take a drink. Some of his co*cktail spilled down his shirt. “f*ck.”

Dabi turned to Gentle and gestured as if to say, what is this?

“Oh, Hawks has just gotten a lot of information from a lot of people in a short amount of time, so he’s still working on processing it,” said Gentle. “I have high hopes!”

“For what? What did he hear?” said Dabi.

“I’m not entirely sure. I can’t hear through the feathers myself so really all I have are suspicions,” said Gentle. He launched into an explanation of some gossip he’d heard from Amplifier, but with that glimmer in his eye Dabi doubted this was what had rattled Hawks.

Off to the side, X and Takahiro’s relationship was falling apart. X was trying to lean on him with an insincere smile, and Takahiro had enough.

“What’s my name?” he demanded.

“Aw, what’s with that?” X wheedled. “Come on, why are you asking as if I don’t know?”

“Well, if you know, it should be pretty easy,” said Takahiro.

“It is, but you’re acting like you’re accusing me of something, Taka-baby,” said X.

“Maybe I am,” said Takahiro. “What’s my full name?”

X’s expression soured. “I can’t believe you. You really think I’d go on a date with somebody, give my rose to somebody, and not know their name?”

“You really don’t know, do you?” said Takahiro.

X refused to admit that. She huffed, “I have some basic self-respect, so I’m not dealing with this. You can talk to me once you’ve gotten over yourself.”

She stormed away. Takahiro glanced at the bar for support, and he certainly had it—the other men were gaping, laughing incredulously, or assuring him that the whole exchange had been insane—but his eyes landed on Dabi, and his mood darkened further. He turned away without saying a word.

Dabi fought the urge to shrink. He wasn’t a catch. He knew this; his ugliness had been rubbed in his face for years, and he’d never considered a situation where someone legitimately found him attractive, but now of all the awful times it had happened? Maybe? He was still torn on whether Takahiro had actually liked him or whether it had been a prank from the women. Whatever the case, he’d f*cked up in handling it and now Takahiro hated his guts. Where had Takahiro been a year ago when Dabi’s confidence was near nonexistent? Back then he’d have scoffed but maybe given it a shot. Now? Now he had standards and they all tragically matched Hawks. Tatami’s wheedling had just been salt in the wound.

“Another bad couple breaks up,” Gentle muttered, watching them go. “How many different names did she come up with for him?”

“Not sure. I think she gave up after ‘Takami’,” said Dabi. Hawks choked on his drink, and Dabi patted his back uncertainly. “You’re sure you’re good? We can ask Shion to take a look if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’ve never felt better,” Hawks croaked.

It was at this point that another newcomer arrived.

The woman who skipped down the stairs seemed like Ippan Josei’s complete opposite: shorter than most of the other women, bright with enthusiasm, and immediately jumping into conversation. Her outfit made her look like some strangely groomed pink poodle.

“Hey everyone, it’s me! Toy-Toy!”

“Like… a toy poodle? Is that her quirk?” Dabi muttered.

Hawks shrugged.

Neither of their reactions registered, as Toy-Toy was busy greeting everyone else.

“It’s so exciting to be here! And seeing all the men—" She giggled conspiratorially with the other women. “Well, I’m glad I’m on this season! I hardly know who to choose, they’re all so attractive. I suppose I should starting asking to see who’s available…”

“Or you could just go with your gut!” Amplifier chirped.

“Wait, what?” said La Brava.

“Yeah! Just go out on a limb!” Amplifier urged. “Don’t even think about the existing couples! None of them are really established anyway.”

It was then that the others realized Amplifier was making really obvious glances between Toy-Toy and Shikkui. This was a plot to get someone to go after him without being scared off by the Zookeeper mess. Immediately everyone was on board.

“Yeah! Ippan Josei psyched herself out and ended up missing out on her date entirely! Don’t think too hard on it!” said Mongoose.

“WE WOULD ALL COMMEND YOU FOR FOLLOWING YOUR HEART!” said Inasa.

“Exactly! Paradise is the place to throw away reason and let your heart decide!” said Tatami.

“There is no bad choice!” said X.

“Everyone is here to be asked on dates. It’s the point of the show,” said Claire Voyance.

“Don’t think! Just pick!” they all chorused.

Because surely this was a choice without consequences! The only true terrors were Chikuchi the cake-killer and Zookeeper the stalker, and it wasn’t like Toy-Toy was looking to date them! Almost all the women had eyes on Shikkui on day one. Surely when there didn’t seem to be any obstacles for him, he would be the first choice?

Toy-Toy laughed in delight. “Really? You think I should just pick somebody at random without any research?”

“Yes!”

“For real?”

“Yes!”

“Okay! Then I pick Hawks!”

Silence.

Most of them looked startled. A few checked for Dabi’s reaction, but mostly he was resigned. After all, there had only been one man more popular than Shikkui on day one.

“…Was that a bad choice?” asked Toy-Toy. “Didn’t you all say I could pick anyone?”

“That’s actually a fantastic choice,” said Takahiro, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Really. There’s no one better you could’ve picked. Isn’t that right, Hawks?”

“Uh,” said Hawks.

“Please go with me? It would be so cool to go on a date with a hero!” said Toy-Toy.

“I’m not sure it would work?” said Hawks.

“Please?” She pouted.

Hawks looked at Dabi. Why did he keep doing that whenever he was asked on a date?

“What are you looking at me for?” said Dabi.

“You mean beyond the obvious?” La Brava grumbled, but was ignored.

“Toy-Toy, you’re really sure you’re okay asking me out if there’s a possibility it won’t work out between us?” said Hawks.

“Yes? Isn’t that the point of dating instead of instantly getting married?” said Toy-Toy.

Hawks did some mental calculations, and it was clear he wasn’t very happy with his result, but forced a smile and said, “Okay. Dates are what we’re here for.”

“Alright!” Toy-Toy cheered. “Let’s have lots of fun together!”

Most of the others congratulated them on the decision, but many were less than pleased. A few women seemed annoyed that Hawks had agreed so easily when he’d been so hard to pin down before. A few, though… well. Those reactions definitely weren’t jealousy so were a little harder to understand. Tatami covered her face with her hands. Gentle let his head thunk down onto the bar top and whined into the woodgrain, “We were so close.” Fuwa rested her hand over his and said, “This isn’t the end! There’s still a chance!”

“Hope springs eternal, or something,” Gentle replied, still not picking up his head.

The date wasn’t scheduled until the next morning but Toy-Toy was eager to start getting to know Hawks regardless and stuck close. It was similar to what Kashiko had done, but Toy-Toy wasn’t near as overbearing. That didn’t mean Dabi liked having to watch, though. He made an excuse and wandered off, this time unaccompanied by any feathers.

“So?” said Misty, when he’d found his way back to his vending machine confessional space. “What are your thoughts?”

“On what?” said Dabi.

“Hawks’ new date,” said Misty. “Are you happy for him? Disappointed?”

“Happy? I guess? They were right, dates are the reason to come here, and it makes sense that everyone’s after him.”

“That’s true, but setting aside obvious truths… what are your personal feelings about it?”

“I don’t see how that matters,” said Dabi.

Misty’s lips quirked in a smile. “It matters because a bullet point list of facts doesn’t engage the audience. They know those things just as well as you do. They’re invested in you as people, your thoughts and your actions. They’re curious about your personal opinions.”

True enough. Dabi cast around for something more in detail that wouldn’t present a gaping wound.

“I think… that while it makes sense for so many people to be after Hawks, that they’re not treating it seriously enough,” he said slowly. “They’re blinded by the stardom. And Hawks lives up to the hype. But you wouldn’t bring a retail worker home and then expect them to spend all their time folding your clothes or putting sh*t away. Work mode gets turned off at some point. I think a lot of people make the mistake that, since Hawks’ hero persona is so casual, that it’s his entire personality and there aren’t any other depths to him. I made that mistake myself when I first met him. The truth is that he’s not drastically different, but if all you try to do is engage his work mode, it leaves that professional barrier up between you so a genuine relationship would never work. I don’t think the women asking him out are willing to look past the surface. It feels a like they’re expecting him as the hero to do all the work to sweep them off their feet, but it doesn’t occur to them that they have to reciprocate. I mean, plenty of people fantasize about dating a hero, but why should the hero want to date you? A relationship’s a two-way street.”

“So you’re saying Hawks deserves better?” said Misty.

“If you put it like that it sounds dumb,” Dabi grumbled.

“No, no, I think you’ve really nailed it,” said Misty. “People join Paradise for love, not just to put in more work for no gain, and Hawks is one of them. What did you think of his expression when Toy-Toy asked him out?”

“He didn’t look very happy about it,” said Dabi. “I still don’t understand why he looked at me…”

“Yeah, he did that today and when Kashiko asked him out, didn’t he?” said Misty.

“He did. It’s weird.”

“If someone asked you to do something you didn’t want to do, where would you instinctively look?”

“I don’t know, at a distraction? Something to convince them to leave me alone?” Dabi paused. Let that settle in. “f*ck, was he looking for an excuse not to go?”

“There it is,” Shion muttered from behind the camera.

“Why would he even need that?” cried Dabi. “He— He’s Pro Hero Hawks, he doesn’t have to settle for this sort of thing! He could just turn them down!”

“Doesn’t he, though?” Misty wheedled. “It’s like you said, people expect certain things from him and he can’t be sure if they’ll reciprocate or ask him to do all the emotional heavy lifting for them. Probably the only reason he’s accepting dates is to figure out how they’d treat him, or because he feels he has to for his hero brand. He’s not on duty, but you can probably imagine his brand suffering if he gets a reputation as a heartbreaker.”

“He’d get a reputation as a heartbreaker by going on dates with lots of women, too!” said Dabi.

“Which is also true, which might pressure him into staying with a date that he’s not actually happy with, who he could quietly break up with after the show when the audience’s attention finally drops,” said Misty. “But if he had an excuse he could fall on if he was uncomfortable, then the audience wouldn’t see a rejection as his fault.”

“f*ck,” said Dabi, and then with more feeling, “sh*t.”

“Any other thoughts for the confessional?” Misty said sweetly.

“No. Where’s Hawks right now?” said Dabi.

“Why do you ask?” she said, with a smile that did not fit the situation at all.

“I’m going to give him his f*cking excuse.”

“Joules said Hawks is down at the beach,” said Prey.

Dabi gave him a nod of acknowledgement and hurried off.

He wasn’t entirely sure what kind of excuse would be good enough to help Hawks while sating the fans. The audience would be under the same impression as the dates and even Dabi had stupidly been— they’d assume Hawks had full control of the situation and his actions were because he genuinely wanted to do them. To imply otherwise would be saying Hawks was not in control which would not only make him feel more hopeless than before, it could send him tipping into TV villainy as everyone second-guessed his motives and sincerity. So, no. He couldn’t go in with the truth. He couldn’t make it about Hawks. Therefore, it must be about himself. Something believable. Something that couldn’t be dismissed.

What had Dabi touched on already that could be enough of a potential dealbreaker to stop Hawks from going on a date?

The answer was obvious. He didn’t like it—the idea made him feel far too vulnerable to bring it up if the threat weren’t already directly before him—but wasn’t this for a good cause?

“Hey, Dabi,” said Takahiro, stepping in front of him near the bar. “You look like you’re in a hurry. What’s up?”

“I’m trying to find Hawks,” said Dabi.

“Oh? What for?”

“I’m not sure he should be going on that date, so I want to talk to him about it,” said Dabi, trying to sidestep him.

Takahiro moved to block him. “Is something wrong?”

Dabi stepped the other way. “I just want to talk to him.”

Again Takahiro blocked. “This might be a bad time to interrupt, though…”

“Why?”

“He and Toy-Toy are getting along really well right now,” said Kuin, who had returned from her date and was for once not accompanied by any of her suitors. “Go on, take a look!”

The bar area had a decent view of the beach, so Dabi followed where she was pointing. Toy-Toy had sat down on one of the day beds and was laughing and gesturing for Hawks to join her. Hawks appeared to be amused, and said something back that had her laughing even harder.

“See? It’s nothing like the Kashiko date,” said Kuin. “She was such a bitch.”

“Yeah,” Dabi said dully, watching as Hawks accepted the invitation and sat with her on the day bed.

“Did you hear something weird about Toy-Toy?” asked Takahiro. “From what I heard she’s a pretty nice person.”

“She’s a little ditz,” Kuin snorted.

“But nice!” said Takahiro. “I wouldn’t think she’s hiding anything—”

“I wouldn’t think she’s capable of it,” said Kuin.

“Really?” Takahiro said flatly, to which Kuin only smirked. “Ugh. But Dabi, really, is there something wrong we should know about?”

Dabi hesitated. He’d been hoping to keep the excuse to himself, Hawks, potential dates, and the cameras; no one else. If other competitors latched onto it they’d call him paranoid and maybe blow off his input if he tried to give it in the future. He could only see it being harnessed for the drama. But Hawks might be in a real mess, and it wasn’t like Dabi was going to get any happy ending from this show. He may as well embrace it.

“I’ve done some thinking about Hawks’ situation,” he grumbled. “He’s famous. Obviously. And attractive.”

“Yeah. Attractive,” Takahiro echoed in a weird tone.

“And so was Shikkui,” said Dabi.

“…You think Shikkui’s attractive?” said Takahiro.

Dabi scowled. “No, but I know a lot of other people do.”

“Oh. Good,” said Takahiro.

“Good,” Kuin wheezed.

“And Shikkui has a crazy stalker that he felt pressured into accommodating,” said Dabi, deciding he didn’t want to know what had her so amused. “If someone like Zookeeper was able to make it onto the show for the express purpose of pursuing him, isn’t it much more likely that someone more famous like Hawks could run into the same issue? Maybe I’m paranoid, but I’ve had too much experience with people going into sh*tty, toxic matches because at the beginning they were sure it ‘wouldn’t be that bad,’ and I don’t intend to let that happen again. I want to vet anyone who goes after Hawks.”

“…You want to approve all his dates.”

That made him sound like an overprotective parent or a jealous ex or something. Dabi flushed and snapped, “I just want to make sure they’re not creeps or violent like at least a third of the Bachelor Nation people I’ve met so far! You can’t tell me it’s not a possibility when it’s only been about a week and we’ve had both Zookeeper and Kashiko just on this one season. Paradise is full of crazy sh*t. Don’t decent friends look out for each other?”

“Yeah! It makes sense. You and Hawks are good friends after all,” said Takahiro.

What was with that emphasis?

“Too good of a friend, really,” said Kuin. “Dabi, don’t you realize that you’ve given people the wrong idea about your relationship? All the girls who come in automatically assume you and Hawks are together. It’s a miracle anyone’s asked Hawks out. If you start vetting his dates on top of that—”

“He’s going to be out by the next episode,” said Takahiro.

“What are you—”

“You’re planning to be a co*ckblock,” said Kuin.

“That’s not always a bad thing,” Dabi defended.

“It’s real loser behavior,” said Kuin. “Hawks is a big boy with his own plans. If you’re interfering, whatever his plans are get derailed, and you might be costing him a good opportunity by walking all over his date. All these poor girls are going to back off because they think Hawks is already taken, and who’s left to give him a rose later?”

“You might think Hawks is popular enough to pull through it all anyway, but girls really will back off fast. No one wants to be the side piece,” said Takahiro.

“Hawks and I aren’t like that,” said Dabi.

“You act like you are, sometimes,” Takahiro replied with a sympathetic wince.

Dabi felt shame crawling up his neck again. “Well, we’re not, and Hawks isn’t going to be making any moves on me so they’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe you can compromise on it?” said Takahiro. “Like, have somebody else suss them out for you. Have one of the girls do it in your place, so it doesn’t automatically scare the date off or make Hawks feel like he has to give you a certain answer…”

“I could do it for you,” said Kuin.

“Absolutely not,” said Dabi.

“I could ask Chikuchi—”

“I don’t trust that bitch any further than she can throw a cake,” said Dabi.

Kuin laughed. “How about Mongoose, then? You got along with her at one point.”

“And then she kissed Romero, so I don’t trust her either,” said Dabi.

“La Brava, then?”

Dabi stewed for a moment, contemplating. La Brava was susceptible to manipulation, but she’d also be specifically on guard against it so soon after Romero. “I could accept her.”

“Cool! Let me go get her,” said Kuin.

In only a few minutes she led a confused La Brava back over to the bar.

“You want to ask Hawks questions without talking to him yourself?” said La Brava, skeptical. “Since when have you cared about doing it like that?”

“Since he realized he might be misleading people about the state of their relationship,” said Takahiro.

“Is he? Is he really?” said La Brava.

“It’s complicated,” said Dabi.

La Brava was not impressed but apparently willing to go through with it. She listened as he listed off questions to ask, and set off to do her investigations with Kuin hot on her heels.

“And now we wait,” Takahiro said cheerily. “Do you want to sit with me and have a drink?”

If Dabi stayed still he felt like he might go mad, so he shook his head. “No thanks. When she comes back, tell La Brava I’ll be up by the treehouse.”

“Sure. I’ll still be here if you change your mind later,” said Takahiro.

Dabi grunted in acknowledgement and sulked away. He sat alone in the treehouse room for a while, head tipped against the back of the couch and eyes closed as the light outside began to fade. When La Brava returned it was alone.

“I hope you understand how hard it was to lose her,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. “What did you do to make Kuin so interested in you all of a sudden?”

“Become a source of drama that can distract from her own sh*t, probably,” said Dabi.

“As if.” She shook her head and went on, “I talked to Hawks, alone so Toy-Toy wouldn’t influence his answers.” She rattled off all the information he’d had questions about, which boiled down to saying that Hawks wasn’t sure whether things would work with Toy-Toy but was still willing to test the waters on the date, and that he did have next steps in mind for whichever way it might go. “I told him you were worried, and asked him point-blank if he was comfortable and wanted an excuse to get out of it. He said thanks, but he’s fine. He was happy you cared, though.”

“Oh,” said Dabi. He flopped back onto the cushions. “Good. Thanks.”

La Brava didn’t appear pleased by his reaction. “What are your plans from here?”

“Honestly? I’m just making things up as I go along,” said Dabi.

“Well, you should get it together fast. Paradise isn’t as long as you seem to think,” she said, and left in a huff.

…Was asking her for help really that annoying?

In the near distance he heard her again: “What are you up to? Didn’t he already turn you down?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Takahiro’s voice. “I was just thinking, Dabi’s probably feeling pretty bad since Hawks committed to the date after all—”

“I didn’t tell you that. Was Kuin telling you that? Why are you and Kuin working together?” said La Brava.

“We’re not!” said Takahiro, affronted. “I just want to be a good friend right now. Look, I’m bringing him food!”

Dabi didn’t want to be comforted by someone he’d turned down so brutally. There was no way it would end well. Why had Takahiro gone out of his way to talk to Dabi at all today? Was this a lead-in for mockery? Dabi didn’t know, and he didn’t want to face it. Silently he thanked La Brava for the distraction, and crawled out the window on the other side of the treehouse room.

From there he focused on getting away under the shadow of the foliage, which wasn’t very effective because Prey was following him with a camera and Prey’s hair was so blindingly white it may as well be a beacon.

“Can you at least go lower?” Dabi hissed at him.

Prey obligingly dropped into a crouch, but this did nothing to help.

Thankfully salvation was spotted quickly: there was Shindo carrying… was that a picnic basket? Weird, but whatever. There was no one in the resort more of a Kuin-alliance deterrent than Shindo, so Dabi fell into step next to him quickly. Shindo barely glanced at him.

“What are you up to?” asked Dabi.

“Helping Tokuda,” said Shindo, jerking his head toward the beach.

“Mind if I tag along?”

“So long as you don’t mess it up, I don’t care.”

Their destination was indeed on the beach, but on the opposite side from where Hawks and Toy-Toy had been hanging out, so no one else was in sight. They found a setup similar to what Itejuro had done for Kuin a few nights ago: tea lights flickering in the sand around a picnic blanket strewn with pillows. Shindo placed the basket strategically among the pillows, then ushered Dabi away so they could spy at a distance. Not long afterward Tokuda made his appearance, leading Ippan Josei by the hand. She gasped at the sight.

“Oh, no, are we interrupting someone’s date?”

“Not at all,” said Tokuda. “This is actually something I put together for you.”

“Me?” She looked baffled by the idea that anyone would bother.

“I thought it was a shame that you weren’t able to go on your date before, so I wanted to make sure you had the opportunity here in Paradise,” said Tokuda. “It’s not as impressive as a proper Bachelor date, but maybe small and low-key might be something you’d appreciate, and I really would like the chance to get to know you better. Would you accept my invitation?”

Ippan Josei blinked rapidly, sniffled a little, and nodded. “Yes. I—I’d really like that.”

They sat down, ate their picnic, and chatted away, and gradually Ippan Josei relaxed. Her uneasy laughs became louder and more genuine as Tokuda encouraged her, her anxious shuffling became an afterthought, and her ears pricked up. They seemed to be having a good time.

When Dabi glanced to the side he found Shindo watching them with a kind of vague longing.

“Were you hoping to ask Ippan Josei out?” he asked.

“No. She’s not my type,” said Shindo.

“Then… Tokuda…?”

“That would be like dating an uncle. Gross.”

Then it was the scenario itself he wished he was part of? Dabi pondered this for a few minutes before asking, “Why is it that you haven’t asked Tatami out?”

Shindo scowled. “None of your business.”

“That isn’t—”

“Let me ask this, then,” said Shindo, turning away from the beach entirely. “Why haven’t you asked Hawks out?”

Well, f*ck if that didn’t hit him where it hurt. People had hinted or joked about Team Hotwings being a relationship before, but never this directly.

“…It’s complicated,” Dabi grumbled.

“It’s pretty hypocritical to ask that kind of sh*t when you’re not willing to share it yourself,” said Shindo.

“I don’t know if I respect you or despise you,” said Dabi.

Shindo snorted and waved his hand. “That’s most people’s impression of me. You’ll get used to it.”

Dabi turned back toward the date. He imagined a scenario where it was him and Hawks down there on the picnic blanket, and his stomach twisted in guilt and longing. He sighed and admitted, “We just wouldn’t work.”

He glanced self-consciously at Shindo and had to do a double take. Never had he seen an expression of such utter incredulity on a person before.

“You did not just f*cking say that,” said Shindo.

“Of course I did. What’s it to you?” said Dabi.

“If you and Hawks can’t make it work, then there’s no way anyone here in Paradise can,” said Shindo.

“What?” said Dabi.

“Oh my f*cking god. I can’t deal with this. I’m out of here,” said Shindo, beelining for the path. “You can talk to me again when you start making sense.”

“What does that mean?” Dabi called after him, but Shindo didn’t reply.

Dabi settled on despising him.

Hawks couldn’t say that Paradise had been very good so far.

Not boring! Absolutely not boring!

But not fun.

It felt like every time he’d found steady ground, someone came along trying to throw him off again, and much to his displeasure it was working. Why were all these people harder to work with than Pro Heroes? Not everything was bad, but it was all.. a lot to process.

Even Gentle had been acting a little strangely. Dabi had implied that the man might be up to something yesterday morning, so when Gentle had approached during the chaos to ask Hawks to steer certain parties toward or away from each other, Hawks had been intrigued. This had changed to bafflement when Gentle requested, “Bring Tatami and Fuwa over to Dabi, and once they’re over there, just… listen? Please?”

The talk had included Hawks himself, with the girls practically singing his praises and hyping him up as an ideal boyfriend. They’d then hinted at Dabi to confirm whether he thought the same. Hawks could admit, he lost a lot of concentration in his other feathers at that point. He’d even held his breath. Dabi deflected for the entirety of the conversation, and Hawks was torn. Dabi had not agreed that Hawks was attractive. But he also hadn’t denied it. It would’ve been very easy to just say no; Dabi wasn’t the type to shy away from confrontation. Maybe he’d held back on criticisms because he was so aware of the feathers following them around? But Majestic’s words were lingering in Hawks’ mind, and only a few nights ago Dabi had said that didn’t really factor in.

Hawks had held back for so long because he was sure he wasn’t an option.

It was only now that he wondered… did Dabi realize he was an option?

Had it just never occurred to him that Hawks would be willing to date a man? Surely Hawks had advertised that somehow?

…sh*t, he hadn’t.

He really hadn’t!

All those times he’d worried about being too overt or too much, he should’ve been the opposite! He should’ve been obvious! Waved a pride flag around, or something!

But that didn’t change the fact that Takahiro got shot down fast as soon as his attraction was noticed. One day had not erased all their similar bird quirks. Maybe they were too similar, and Dabi wouldn’t be attracted to Hawks either.

But surely if that were the case, Dabi would’ve used that to shoot Tatami down when it became clear he didn’t want to keep talking about her dating ideas?

Hawks’ brain hurt.

When he tried to talk with Dabi afterward he felt like his tongue was tied up in knots. He couldn’t figure out what kind of move to make, or even if he should make a move at all. And then Toy-Toy had come barging in. He was ashamed to say it, but he let himself slip back into mission mode.

After all, there had never been a same-sex couple in all the years the Bachelor series had been going. If he wanted to do anything about his crush it would have to be after the show, and he needed to stay on as long as Dabi did for his own protection. His roses in the future weeks had to come from somewhere. So. He agreed to the date. When La Brava came down, took him aside, and told him that Dabi intended to get him out of this if Hawks wanted to, it had sent a bright smile across his face. No one else in his life had ever offered an escape like that, no matter how mundane the problem.

After Paradise, he vowed to himself.

After Paradise, when the threat was gone and Dabi was free to leave if he wanted, then Hawks would bring up the idea of romance. If Dabi didn’t find someone else during filming, anyway.

All in all, when Hawks met up with the producers to go on the date early the next morning, he was a second-guessing mess, one wrong move from calling it off entirely.

Toy-Toy’s date card had read, “Choose a man who floats your boat.” Thankfully there were no gimmicks to the date: it was one of the most straightforward, boring, and repetitive dates in the Paradise arsenal: a yacht ride. Pillows and towels had been laid out at the bow for the two of them to sit on, and the boat sailed off into the morning without further ado. Eventually it anchored near another small chunk of land and they were shooed off to swim. Hawks wasn’t sure why this was so important to the date when it was so easy for them to swim at any time on the beach, but whatever. He splashed around with Toy-Toy until the producers had them climb aboard again, and they began the cruise back to Paradise. There would be no meal or further interaction; just a heart to heart on the move, and the date would be done.

"So, I’m wondering, why was I the person you chose for this date?” said Hawks. Because while he hadn’t found this date particularly appealing Toy-Toy was a definite step-up from his last one, and maybe he could nudge her toward someone she’d connect with better.

“Because you’re really cool!” said Toy-Toy. “Whatever happens from here, I went on a date with a hero! That’s something to check off on the bucket list.”

“And did you like what you found on the date?”

She gave a noncommittal shrug. “You are cool. Nobody can deny that. But I guess it didn’t feel real?” Hawks’ face fell in horror and she waved her hands frantically at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong! You’re really sweet! Any girl would dream of this kind of date with you! But that’s what it feels like. A dream. Something that’s, uh…”

“Ephemeral?” Hawks guessed.

“Yeah! Like I’m going to wake up and find I smooched a Hawks poster instead of the real person.”

Hawks laughed, incredulous.

“That’s not an insult!” Toy-Toy squeaked. “Your posters are also super hot! I’m sure there are a lot of girls who kiss your posters! That sounded weird, didn’t it? I didn’t mean it that way!”

“No, no, I think I understand,” said Hawks.

Toy-Toy groaned in embarrassment and covered her face in her hands. “Sorry. It’s just, you don’t feel like something I could obtain, and you never have. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel bad about not feeling anything more on this date. I should’ve asked someone else out instead of wasting your time.”

Hawks had not gone into this thinking he’d be the one rejected, but he definitely wasn’t mad about it!

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re being upfront about it with me,” he said. “Did the other choices intimidate you?”

“No? Maybe?” She peeked at him between her fingers. “I didn’t think much about it at all. The pressure of coming into these later episodes is insane.”

“Did you not come here hoping for someone in particular?”

“Not really.”

“Well, what are your goals? What kind of person are you looking for?”

“A husband, of course,” she laughed uneasily. “…I’m not picky, really. I want him to be nice. Having a lot of money is also a plus! My dream is to be a stay-at-home mom with three kids, so he’d have to be well off enough to take care of us!”

He waited, but she said nothing more. “…That’s it?”

“That’s it! Other than having kids and not being an abuser, he could be anyone under the sun!”

“So the ‘nice’ thing is really about being a good father?”

“It would be nice if he was, but that’s not a dealbreaker,” she replied, with the kind of causal acceptance that showed someone in her life had done a sh*t enough job to ruin her trust in men entirely. “So long as I can be a mom without struggling, I don’t care.”

“Your dad wasn’t so nice, I’m guessing?” said Hawks.

Toy-Toy’s smile tightened. “He wasn’t. I think Dabi would have a field day with him.”

This was making a real turn for the depressing. Hawks thanked his lucky stars that Toy-Toy hadn’t arrived until Romero was long gone. He turned to look at her better and said, “You deserve more than just an invisible benefactor. Aren’t married couples supposed to be a team? Like, in the middle of the night your husband gets up to take care of the crying baby so you can get some sleep? And if you need help with something you can rely on the other?”

“It doesn’t always work out like that,” said Toy-Toy.

“But it should, and most times it does,” said Hawks. “Are you just resigning yourself so you don’t get disappointed later?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Life is easier without that kind of let-down.”

“Easier, maybe, but not happier,” said Hawks. “Think about having those kids and doing activities with them. What’s the kind of father you think would be best doing that with you?”

“Activities?”

“Yeah! Like family vacations, reunions, school trips, all sorts of things!”

She pondered as if these had never occurred to her.

Hawks leaned further. “The most mundane future, just think of some little span of time— it doesn’t matter when or where. What kind of person would you want by your side in that moment?”

“I’ve never let myself think about it,” she admitted quietly.

And that was heartbreakingly sad, because Hawks understood. In childhood, in training, in his first years as a hero, he’d done his best to crush down any yearning because it just wasn’t possible. He’d been forced into that position, though. For someone who’d been free of such terrible agencies to be resigned into that mentality, too…

Hawks took her hand and looked her dead in the eye, and in his firmest hero tone he said, “That happiness exists for you.”

She gaped. “What?”

“That kind of bright future is waiting for you to grab it,” he insisted. “You’re going to have those kids you want, for sure. But there’s a man out there who’s going to be your perfect husband, and he’s going to love you and respect you and adore your children, and you’re going to be happy. Don’t decide that he doesn’t exist just because he hasn’t met you yet.”

Because he firmly believed now that he could have a happy future, and if he could, then so would she.

“I—I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said, lip wobbling.

“Yet,” said Hawks. “It’s the nicest thing yet.”

Toy-Toy burst into tears. Hawks held her close and soothed her, and there was nothing romantic about it, but it was probably still the most useful date he’d been on.

When they returned to the resort they were not holding hands and Toy-Toy’s eyes were red, so a lot of people were concerned.

“Is everything okay?” said Fuwa, hurrying over. “Toy-Toy, are you crying? I have tissues, let me go get—”

But Toy-Toy gave her a wide smile and said, “I’m more than okay. Hawks and I won’t work out, but I’m glad we went on that date.”

“Me too,” said Hawks, and batted her gently with a wing. “Let me know if you want to talk about it later, okay?”

“Okay! I think I’m going to talk with the other men here and see if I can… well, imagine anything. I’ll see you later!”

She walked off. When she was out of earshot Hawks leaned closer to Fuwa and said, “Hey, I hate to ask this, but could you look after her for a while? Our talk on the date got a little existential and I think she’d really appreciate some friendly support. You’re really good at making people feel at ease.”

“Sure, I could do that,” said Fuwa. “Are you okay after that?”

Hawks gave an awkward shrug. “A little sad. A little introspective. It’ll pass easy. Do you know where—”

“Where Dabi is?” she chuckled. “Sure. He’s in the treehouse again. Ah, but if Takahiro asks, he’s up by the hot tub.”

“Takahiro’s after him?”

“Has been since last night, but Tatami and I are helping Dabi stay out of his way. I hope you have a good talk!” she replied, and skipped away after Toy-Toy.

The treehouse turned out to be the ideal hiding spot. Dabi was almost always followed by Prey who, true to his name, tended to be easy pickings. In the treehouse though, Prey had sat himself on one of the couches, hidden from the door and walkways outside but still with a good angle on where Dabi was trying to become one with the cushions. When Hawks crossed the threshold Dabi jerked, pulling up a pillow as if caught between hiding under it or throwing it at the intruder, but when he realized who it was, he dropped it on his stomach and flopped back over.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“I hear you were expecting Takahiro?” Hawks teased.

“He keeps following me around. I don’t know why. It’s getting creepy,” said Dabi. “Forget that, though. Where’s your date?”

“Toy-Toy? Ah, we mutually agreed it wasn’t something to pursue. She’s looking at other potential matches right now,” said Hawks.

Dabi’s brow furrowed. “Oh. Sorry?”

“It feels kind of like a relief, actually,” said Hawks. “We had a pretty frank conversation, though. It sort of rattled the both of us. In a good way, I think.”

“What about?” said Dabi.

“Being able to visualize the future,” said Hawks. He sent an uneasy look at Prey and resolved to ignore him as best as possible. “Do you remember, uh, back on the Bachelorette when I got drunk? I said some things you found a little, uh…”

“f*cked up?” Dabi raised a brow. “Yeah, I remember.”

The memory was foggy for Hawks and seeing it in the episode had been so embarrassing, but at that time when he’d drunkenly clambered into a patio chair and spilled out his heart and heard Dabi singing softly while running fingers through his hair… He’d never felt so safe in his life.

“I told you that I, uh, had a new lease on life,” said Hawks. “Toy-Toy’s not in the same place, but she… she’s got the old me’s mentality. It was a little painful to see in action. She’s just kind of coasting without any hope or real plans for the future, because she doesn’t feel like she has or deserves one. No goals. Even… before, I had little things to look forward to. Like hanging out with Rumi, or going to a party so I could add to a running list of bad denim puns from Best Jeanist. Isn’t that normal?”

“It is,” said Dabi. “I think if you don’t have little things like that to shoot for, you’re not going to make it.”

“Exactly! It freaks me out a little that she doesn’t, but at least she seems like she’s going to try coming up with some. It could be big or small things! She wants kids, that’s big. But maybe just looking forward to a new seasonal flavor for coffee or something? The siren song of a new kind of donut? Trying a new hobby? Doing Bachelor-style dates on your own because why the f*ck not?” He went on listing possibilities, throwing a few of his own in the mix as he did. The more he’d thought about it the more it had given him the jitters, and babbling like this seemed like the only way to vent it all out. “You’ve got them too, right?”

Very, very quietly, Dabi said, “I want to go to my brother’s graduation.”

For a moment Hawks gaped at him—took in his downcast eyes, the way he picked a little too casually at the threads of the cushion—then clicked his mouth shut and dropped down in the seat next to him.

“Tell me.”

Dabi chuckled unevenly. “What?”

“That future. Tell me about it,” said Hawks.

Dabi blinked at him a few more times, brow furrowed as if he couldn’t understand why Hawks would be interested—as if Hawks hadn’t just been rambling about it. Hawks raised his eyebrows as if to say, seriously, and Dabi averted his eyes again.

“My brother is studying to be a doctor,” he muttered. “We haven’t… talked. In a while. But. He was my favorite.”

Hawks nodded slowly. Dabi didn’t talk about his family much. The scraps about his parents Hawks only learned while watching episodes of their Bachelorette run, so it felt almost deceitful for him to know at all. Hawks understood the reluctance to talk about it; he had his own abusive parents, and he’d certainly never had the guts to bring them up in conversation. Hawks didn’t have siblings, though. He didn’t know how to relate to those, and by his wording, Dabi had multiple.

“He never got the attention he deserved,” said Dabi, picking harder. “He isn’t what our father wanted, and he’s quirkless on top of that, so a lot of people write him off as a disappointment. He works hard, though, and he’s good at what he does. He deserves to be celebrated. So.” He gripped the cushion tight, voice dipping quieter but all the more fervent for it. “When he makes it, I want to be there. I want to be the loudest, most annoying attendee in their fancy f*cking assembly hall, so he knows he has someone cheering for him. Our father sure as hell won’t. Mom’s physically incapable of attending. So. I want to. Even if he doesn’t recognize me.”

“That—” Hawks had to swallow against a lump in his throat. “That’s a good one.”

Dabi scoffed. “You think so? Well, what’s one of yours?”

“Going to that super fancy kaiseki place,” Hawks answered immediately.

Dabi aimed a weak kick at him, grumbling, “You wanted to take me there, that isn’t—”

But Hawks caught his ankle to keep him in place and said, “Yeah. You being there is kind of the point.”

Dabi stilled. His expression was surprised and wary and maybe a little—

“DATE CARD!” screeched Takahiro, barging into the treehouse at a volume that was really more suited to Inasa.

Actually, there was Inasa, hanging off of the other man like he’d tried to take him down in an American football tackle and failed. “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ANNOUNCE IT IN A GENERAL AREA, NOT IN A PRIVATE TALKING PLACE!”

“The treehouse is a general area!” Takahiro insisted.

Gentle crawled in after them, as if he’d also gone for a tackle and ended up trampled instead. “It isn’t even your card! She isn’t all the way down the steps yet!”

“But she’s going to be here any second and everyone needs to be rounded up!” said Takahiro.

“Oh. New arrival,” said Dabi. He shook his foot loose and stood up. Hawks followed glumly. “Any idea who it is?”

“I don’t know but I’m looking forward to shaking her hand!” said Takahiro.

Inasa and Gentle sent him some truly poisonous looks.

They all rendezvoused near the dining and pool area, just in time for the newest woman to make her way onto the Paradise stage.

“Heeeeey!” said the most valley girl voice to ever valley girl. “Oh-em-gee, everybody here is so swoony!”

“Is that a word?” said Dabi, deeply perplexed.

“’Sup, people! I’m Camie Utsushimi!” said the girl. She had dark blond hair, big lips, and a very skimpy swimming suit. “I’m crazy psyched to be here!”

“For real,” said Dabi. “Is ‘swoony’ a word?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a dictionary handy,” said Hawks, though he suspected it wasn’t.

Dabi turned to where Tatami had predictably come to join them and asked, “What’s her deal?”

“Camie’s infamous in Bachelor Nation,” said Tatami, with a look of great suffering. “She was a series villain, but less because she tried to go after people and more because she didn’t care what others thought of her. Her attacks were more clap backs than anything. She talks like this all the time, so she stands out pretty easily.”

“All the time?” said Hawks, impressed.

“What does your date card say, Camie?” called Takahiro.

Camie waved the card overhead and read aloud, “Choose a man to take on your first date in Paradise! Okay, but before I go picking my man, I’m gonna bounce with Dabi ‘cause I know he’s totes got all the hot goss!”

“…What?” said Dabi.

“Be my broski!” said Camie.

“If she’s calling you broski, she’s not interested in you. You’re safe,” said Tatami. “Go and give her the Paradise rundown. You’ll figure out what she’s saying from context cues.”

“And if I don’t understand?” said Dabi.

“Then she’ll think you’re funny. Go on!”

Camie linked their elbows and dragged Dabi away.

The others broke apart to gossip among themselves. The men seemed especially excited; apparently Camie was a very outgoing, adventurous person, so most of them were hoping to go on the date with her regardless of any other current options. The women grumbled about the very same thing; Chikuchi loudly denounced Camie’s sex appeal, but judging by the way Tsutsutaka and Cider kept glancing at each other, this served more the purpose of rattling off a good resume than hurting her prospects.

With the gossip abounding, Hawks was left alone with a realization that was now settling in his mind.

That little exchange with Dabi had charmed him. Honestly, about ninety percent of anything Dabi did was charming, but this had felt like the last lock popping open on a door he’d sealed shut.

On their date, Hawks had talked to Toy-Toy about resigning oneself to keep from being disappointed. That backing down before even trying was letting it go in failure. And he realized he was a hypocrite. That was what he’d been doing with Dabi this whole time: backing down, making excuses, trying not to get hurt and thereby making sure he was hurt.

You know what? He was going to do it.

Hawks was going to confess.

Not at the end of Paradise, but now.

The idea made him want to scream and fly far, far away, but all the show contracts and hero mission kept him bound here as effectively as a ball and chain. That was probably a good thing. He was supposed to face his problems head on. Maybe he was a little grateful for the panic, because he’d dealt with panic on missions and knew how to work with it, sometimes even how to fuel himself with it. Panic was familiar. His sidekicks would hate him if he ever said that out loud.

For real, though.

Confession.

Hawks was going to let all of his messy feelings out, and Dabi would give his response, and Hawks could stop living in this emotional limbo. It would suck if Dabi felt uncomfortable about it. It would hurt if Dabi pulled away, if they weren’t constantly together… but that might be for the better. That might help him actually get over this instead of pining forever.

How was he going to do this?

Hey, hello, I know you came onto not one but two TV shows seeking women, but I’m a man who thinks you’re massively attractive and I’m hoping you could tell me your boundaries so my pathetic self doesn’t overstep and make you uncomfortable?

Ugh.

Surely there were better ways. Wasn’t confessing feelings some kind of ritual among high school students? He had a distinct image in his brain of a schoolgirl bowing and offering a love letter to the most popular boy on campus, but beyond knowing that existed as a cliché, he had no idea what went on with that. He’d never gone to school to see it in action, and never watched shows where it took on any big role. Hawks had no internet to research with, so he turned to what he did have: experts. He beelined for the dining tables, where Tatami and La Brava had retreated for some snacks.

“Confessions?” said Tatami, stalling halfway through a bite of shaved ice.

“High school confessions?” said La Brava, clutching her fruit smoothie with a skeptical look.

“Or any confessions, really,” said Hawks, thankful that none of the others were in earshot. “I’m not exactly… experienced in these things.”

“I find that hard to believe,” said La Brava. “You must get hundreds of confession letters from fans.”

But I don’t know any of them and that feels so insincere, Hawks wanted to say, but La Brava’s grip on her glass was tight and her face was pinched with something like annoyance or regret. Maybe she’d written confession letters to heroes, once. Hawks really hoped she’d never written anything to him. No matter the case, he changed tactics.

“It’s one thing to get a glimpse of the presentation, but what are all the steps leading up to it?” said Hawks. “If I want to confess to somebody, how do I do it?”

Tatami’s eyes lit up. “You’re confessing to someone?”

Oh, no, he didn’t want anyone hounding him about it. The situation was bad enough as it was. Hawks grimaced. “If, Tatami. If I wanted to confess, how would I do it?”

“Well, going along the lines of the high school confession would come off pretty cute,” said Tatami, still grinning. “There are thousands of ways to confess, but that one’s innocent and sweet and hard to misunderstand. Everyone here is looking for love, so if you did that for someone, I’m sure they’d be thrilled.”

Not if they were hoping for a different person to be doing it, they wouldn’t.

Innocent and hard to misunderstand, though. That sounded like exactly what he needed.

“Did you two ever do that?” he asked.

“Oh, sure. It’s a rite of passage,” said Tatami, waving her spoon. “Even when we weren’t permitted to have relationships, at my high school it was just a matter of when you confessed to somebody, not if.”

“Did it ever work for you?” asked Hawks.

Tatami flinched. “Uh, not really.”

“What happened?”

“Well, everyone in my class would confess to the same boy,” Tatami muttered. “He would always turn everyone down by saying he couldn’t return our feelings. He was really nice about it, though. That’s probably why we all did it—we’d be happy if he accepted, but if he didn’t, then it didn’t hurt. It’s nice to learn disappointment from someone kind. I appreciated him a lot more when I tried for-real confessing to other boys later on. So many of them were rude, or mean, or just didn’t care. One of them ripped up my letter in front of me without bothering to even open the envelope.”

“He what?” said Hawks, aghast.

“Tore it right in half.” Tatami shrugged, but the movement was stilted, like it still hurt to think about. “Look at it this way, though: a little bit of mean right then saved me from suffering all the meanness I’d have faced in dating him.”

“I tried writing a confession letter,” La Brava said quietly. “It was for a boy in my class back in middle school. He was on the baseball team, and I’d go to all the games to watch him. He read it out loud in the classroom and made fun of it with his friends. He said it was creepy for someone he didn’t know to write all those things. And I guess he really didn’t know me, because he never noticed that I was sitting right behind him the whole time.”

“Oh, La Brava,” Tatami murmured, and wrapped her up in a hug.

“That was cruel,” said Hawks.

“That’s how it goes,” said La Brava, rubbing at her eyes. “Tatami’s right, though. Everyone here is already expecting and hoping for someone to say all those passionate, romantic things to them. If you’re confessing to any of the contestants, it’ll go well. We’ll cheer you on, Hawks.”

They tried to bolster his confidence, but really they’d thrown it into the trash. The high school confession tactic had been appealing because it seemed to have a blueprint he could follow, and also because if Hawks chickened out he could just throw a letter in Dabi’s face and run. Everyone on the show was hoping for mushy declarations of love, but like, heterosexually. Hawks was about to cross into unknown and potentially hostile territory. If the producers got wind of this, they’d be livid. What would Dabi think? Hawks’ mind was suddenly plagued with images of Dabi torching a confession letter. He knew that Dabi wasn’t cruel despite the front he could put up, but those thoughts just wouldn’t leave him alone.

New plan: no confessions following a cliché.

He had to be subtle with it.

Just… sneak it into conversation.

Be cool.

Be relaxed.

Casual.

f*ck, he hated every second of this.

“Hey, hey, party people!” cried Camie, trotting back among them with Dabi hot on her heels. “I’ve decided! Shikkui, you’re a certified hottie and I was totally simping over you before. Let’s go out!”

Delighted gasps rang out. Zookeeper dropped her cup. Dabi looked very smug; clearly this was his doing. Shikkui was thrilled. He opened his mouth to accept, only for Zookeeper to come marching between them.

“No,” she spat. “Shikkui is mine.”

“Really? I don’t see your name on him,” said Camie, leaning from side to side as if genuinely looking for sharpie marks on his carapace.

“Homewreckers like you should just—”

Camie straightened up again, exuding some kind of weird dumb-blond radiance that deflected all of Zookeeper’s intimidation. “And I heard that earlier you were, like, super into him getting a date card. Like, he deserves a date more than anybody! Right?”

“He does, but he shouldn’t have to stoop to one with a whor* like you,” said Zookeeper.

“Language!” cried Gentle.

Camie didn’t so much as blink at the insult. “So this hunk going on a date right now is totally part of your plans! You up for it, Shikkui? We leave, like, now.”

Shikkui had been eager to start with, and the idea of an instant escape was just a cherry on top.

“Yes!” he cried.

“So fetch,” said Camie.

She dodged around Zookeeper, grabbed Shikkui by the arm, and towed him off toward the exit before the ‘jealous ex’ could get her claws on him. Zookeeper pursued, hissing with rage, but producers were already moving to block her so all would be well.

Dabi strolled over to the others, still smirking, and said, “I like Camie.”

“What did you tell her?” said Hawks.

“The truth,” said Dabi. “The nice thing about a series villain is that she’s not scared to f*ck sh*t up if needed.”

“And Shikkui definitely needed it,” Tatami laughed.

“I’m sure he’ll be thanking you, especially after the rose ceremony,” Hawks agreed. “Hey, before anything else happens, do you think we could—”

A great commotion caught their attention. Inasa was, again, trying to hold back a Takahiro who seemed determined to get up close and personal with them.

“Great job, Dabi!” Takahiro cried. “Great planning!”

“Yeah, it’s about time someone took Shikkui out on a date,” said Kuin. “I’d have done it myself, but he’s not my type.”

“As if you weren’t drooling all over him the first day,” Chikuchi growled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you confuse me with yourself? Even now you’re still so desperate,” said Kuin.

“Why, you three-timing—”

“Hell yeah, we’re going to finally lose Zookeeper!” said Cider, punching the air in victory.

Some of them bickered. Some of them wanted to crowd around Dabi to congratulate him on successful scheming. Some of them wanted to speculate on how Zookeeper would react or how the Paradise landscape would change. They stayed all crowded together until the dinner hour arrived, and then sat down to eat without even a pause in the conversation, and it drove Hawks crazy. He knew Dabi was popular, but why was he suddenly the center of attention when Hawks wanted to talk feelings?

He couldn’t call dibs on Dabi at dinner.

After the meal some of the men insisted on getting Dabi’s opinion about— hell, Hawks didn’t even know. All he knew was that Dabi was mired in conversation and for some reason Tatami, Fuwa, and Gentle had all gathered around Hawks to loudly talk about how Dabi would be an awesome boyfriend, and! Hawks knew that! That was why he was trying to subtly get Dabi out of here so they could talk! He was still blanking on what exactly he’d say, but that was step two and could be procrastinated! He needed to execute step one first!

Eventually night fell, and the couple returned in high spirits. Zookeeper was absent, likely sulking or detained by producer shenanigans. But this at least splintered the group: the women all flocked to Camie while Shikkui reconvened with the men.

“You’re smiling. I take it the date went well?” said Tokuda.

“She was really into you?” Cider checked.

Shikkui laughed. “Well, she called me an ‘S-tier twink,’ so I think so?”

Dabi violently choked on his drink.

Hawks patted his back anxiously and asked, “Are you okay?”

“S-tier,” Dabi coughed. “Like Shigaraki’s sh*tty mobile games!”

Hawks had never played such games, but some phrases from them were popular enough among civilians what he’d been given a brief rundown in case of slang.

“And this mobile game is different from the ones he’d play in the arcade?”

“Yeah, they’re—” Dabi paused. “Actually, no, there’s some overlap.”

“Huh,” said Hawks, mentally filing that away. The rhythm game back then had been fun; it might be cool to find such a thing and keep it on his phone after all this.

Shikkui regaled them with the goings-on of his date—they’d gone to a staged dinner in town, only for a band to sneak up behind them and start playing so they could dance along to it—and the men did their due diligence in asking questions about the relationship and poking at drama points for the cameras. Eventually it died down. They were turned away toward Takahiro going on a tangent about the date trends, and Dabi was stabbing the last few crumbs on his plate with chopsticks, and Hawks seized his opportunity. He leaned toward Dabi and said quietly, “Want to go for a walk?”

Dabi shrugged, blessedly ignorant of any anxiety. “Sure.”

They slipped away, down the stairs, and set out across the beach. The sand was still warm from the sun and the tide kept rolling, but it was dark. The further they walked from the beach house, the less the laughter and electric glow reached them; after a few minutes they walked in moonlight. It felt right. Absolutely charged with anxiety, sure, but a good atmosphere for this kind of talk. Hawks let out a shaky sigh and turned off his microphone. Dabi raised a brow, but wordlessly copied.

Hawks opened his mouth. Hesitated. Shut it. Opened it again. Shut it.

“You good?” said Dabi.

“Fine!” said Hawks, a little high pitched. “So, uh, how about those crabs? You were right, they’re everywhere.”

That was not what he’d wanted to say but he was still unsure how to formulate it so just kept on about the crabs while his mind raced. Mercifully Dabi played along. They kept talking about stupid, irrelevant things all the way up to the end of the Paradise perimeter. Floodlights were set up alongside a barrier manned by the security team. Pro Heroes Ms. Joke and Mandalay nodded to Hawks in greeting but said nothing. Hawks nodded back, distracted as he and Dabi turned and headed back up the beach.

“So,” said Dabi, when the security team had fallen out of earshot, “this is all riveting, but I don’t see why we had to turn off our mics for it.”

Hawks opened his mouth again for an excuse… and didn’t find one. This was tiring, and he felt stupid already. A roundabout, casual attempt wasn’t working. He’d face it head on.

“I want to be really honest with you,” he said, and Dabi straightened at the sudden resolve in his tone. “About me. And why I’m here. And why I’m—” He flipped his hands around.

“Why you’re like this,” Dabi said slowly.

“Yeah.” Hawks sucked in a deep breath and held it, psyching himself up before, “My name is Keigo Takami.” Out went the rest of the air in a whoosh. “Oh, man, it feels good to say that. I haven’t introduced myself like that in years!”

Dabi’s brows raised again. “Years?”

“Years!” Hawks scrubbed at his hair to work out the rest of his nerves. “I wasn’t… allowed to say it, you know? Or maybe you don’t. Um. Have you been following the Commission trials?”

“Up until we came here, anyway,” said Dabi.

“Cool. Then you know what they were saying about the Legacy program?”

He had. Dabi turned to look at him fully, eyes wide. “You were in that program?”

“I’m also the reason the public knows about that program now,” said Hawks. “Part of that tragic backstory I told the Iidas for the coup! I should back up a little, though. Start at the beginning. I was born in a shack on the outskirts of f*ckuoka. No hospital, no paperwork. Mom just popped me out on a floor that, in retrospect, I might not even consider a floor. It was mostly trash. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t die. She had a surveillance quirk. Floating eyeballs, like I have floating feathers. My father wasn’t married to her. He was a criminal, just using her to keep himself safe from heroes and the police. You… may have heard of him. Thief Takami?”

He watched closely for a reaction.

The Commission had told him that the name ‘Takami’ was like a poison. It would alienate anyone who learned it. No one would trust him. No matter what Hawks did, if his name was known, he would be hated.

Dabi’s eyes predictably tracked to Hawks’ wings, red like the feathers that had grown on his father’s arms, but so different from anything Thief Takami had shown. But then his eyes moved right back to Hawks’, and there was no hate or judgement in them.

“Thief Takami doesn’t strike me as a good father figure.”

“No,” Hawks laughed. “No, he and my mother both… they were sh*tty parents. He was violent and paranoid, and he hated that I existed. As soon as I could walk, he thought I was determined to turn him in. I didn’t even understand the concept at that point. My mother never defended me because she was obsessed with him. As far as she was concerned, he could do no wrong. I think I was like an engagement ring to her. A link to my father. But he hated her, too. Thought she was creepy and clingy. Only bent to her to keep her happy enough to keep him hidden.”

A quiet understanding was dawning on Dabi’s face. “Endeavor arrested him.”

“He did! It was the best day of my life. I’d seen heroes on TV, but I wasn’t really allowed out, so I thought they were make-believe. Then one day I saw Endeavor arresting him on the news, and he never came back. It was like a fairytale come true. I wonder what Endeavor would say if I told him he was my fairy godmother,” Hawks said with a grin. “You know what the most ironic part was? My only possession back then was a little Endeavor doll. Mom bought it off a clearance rack to shut me up, and I went everywhere with it. Thief Takami had to look at my doll that whole morning and then got arrested by the real thing that afternoon. I hope he felt really stupid about it.”

Hawks remembered that time as a kid: three days gone since the arrest, Mom freaking out, realization settling in that his father was never coming back. He’d looked his Endeavor plushie in the eyes and thanked it with all the sincerity he could muster, as if the doll were some advance scout for the hero himself.

“Predictably, Mom didn’t take it well,” he continued. “She thought someone would come to arrest her, too, so we went on the run. She was terrible at taking care of herself, so she decided that if I had wings, I should make use of them. I became the seven-year-old breadwinner, and on one of those excursions… I caught the Commission’s attention. They made a deal with her. Now she’s got a fancy penthouse in Tokyo and more money than she knows what to do with. I haven’t had any contact with her since she sold me. It’s probably for the best that I never got to the hometown dates. The idea of introducing her to anyone sort of makes my skin crawl.”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. “She sold you.”

“She did.”

“And you didn’t have any papers for your birth.”

“Yeah. The Commission was probably happy about that. No need to make someone disappear if they’ve never legally existed in the first place.” Hawks’ existence had been a windfall for them: strong quirk with practical use, an easily manipulated child, and no legal or emotional ties. “And I was dumb. I was so dumb. They asked me if I wanted to be a hero and I said yes, and no matter what they did to me I believed they had my best interests in mind, and I was obedient. I didn’t even realize at the time that there were other kids like me in the Legacy program. I thought it was just me and Lady Nagant, and that after she went rogue they’d shut it down once I graduated. Again, I was dumb. I let the H.P.S.C. heap all sorts of horrible things on me over the years because in a way, I didn’t knew any better. Like, what was I supposed to compare them to? Thief Takami? They steered everything from what I wore, what I ate, to the people I was ‘allowed’ to interact with, and everything had to adhere to their PR rules with regular check-ins. If I hadn’t, if they realized I was getting out of their control, they’d have sent me to the Recycle Program. It took me way too long to find a support network of other heroes who told me it wasn’t okay. So not okay that they started a coup, and I became one of the main conspirators, whose involvement would inevitably be found out by the H.P.S.C. When it reached the point of us learning that the Recycle Program they’d almost put me into was actually the Nomu factories, and that the H.P.S.C. had been knowingly bankrolling that nightmare, it became life or death for all of us. And… you know how on The Bachelorette, you got in an argument with Tobio early on and you said the I was probably the only one there for the right reasons?”

“Trying to find a girlfriend the Commission wouldn’t manipulate seems like a decent reason to me,” Dabi said slowly.

Hawks winced. “Yeah. No. The romance was kind of secondary. I joined for witness protection.”

Dabi boggled at him. “Witness protection?”

“Yeah.”

“Witness f*cking protection?”

“…Yeah.”

“How the f*ck would that even—” Dabi put a hand to his head, incredulous. “The cameras. f*ck, it was for all the cameras, wasn’t it? No matter what might happen, there’d be evidence on the cameras and half of Japan would be watching your every move.”

“Plus the isolation gave the perfect excuse for me not to answer any calls or get pulled away for anything beyond a real emergency,” said Hawks.

Dabi laughed. “That’s the dumbest, most genius thing I’ve ever heard of. A hero saved by reality TV.”

“It did a good job of it, too. Paragon even caught the Commission assassin.”

Dabi did not look surprised at the mention, though a little uncomfortable not to have noticed it happen. “When was that?”

“At the very end, after I came back from the earthquake efforts.”

“sh*t, when you were carrying around a knife. Did I f*cking sleep through that?”

“You did,” Hawks chuckled. “It’s not surprising, considering how far away on the property he got stopped. If I understand right, you might’ve had some run-ins with Commission assassins in the past? I’m guessing that’s part of your dislike of heroes, back when we first met.”

“That was part of it,” said Dabi. “…I didn’t think the Commission had anything to do with your reason for joining. I thought it just started catching up with you during the earthquake.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really specific with you back then,” Hawks admitted. “I guess I felt a little ashamed to admit to anyone my ‘wrong reasons’ for being there. I didn’t want you to think I was lying or trying to lead anyone on.”

“Not any more than me,” Dabi muttered.

That’s right— after they’d left The Bachelorette and had sat down at a Yakitori stand to process their ‘defeat,’ they’d talked over how Dabi hadn’t been overly hopeful for love on the show. But at least he’d hoped enough to join!

“I wanted to make it clear what my situation’s been,” said Hawks. “I want to be really upfront with you so you know where I’m standing, and so you know that when— When I’m talking about the future from here, I’m being genuine. All the romance and the dates up until now I’ve only done because I felt like I had to, not because I felt anything for those girls. I… would really rather have taken someone else on those dates.”

I wanted to take you.

Those were the next words. Five words! They should be so easy to say! And yet Hawks was choking on them. Maybe phrasing it differently would work?

“I saw some kids like you,” Dabi said absently.

Hawks startled. “O-oh. You did?”

He’d hesitated so long he’d lost the subject! Was this a blessing or a curse?

Dabi’s gaze was distant, like he was lost in memory. “They cycled through sometimes. I’d see them for a few days. One conversation, maybe. Then they were gone. Forever.”

Oh, sh*t. The bottom dropped out of Hawks’ stomach as he realized Dabi was referring to his time in the program. He’d never mentioned it before. Never got anywhere close to admitting what had happened. This was… good, right? Sharing vulnerabilities?

“In Aomori, right?” Hawks ventured.

Dabi blinked as if only just realizing what he’d said. He eyed Hawks warily. “You know about that place?”

“It’s come up during the coup,” said Hawks. “When Giran gave Eraserhead the information to take down Doctor Ujiko, he gave enough pieces for us to put the rest of the puzzle together. That's how we found out the Recycle Program and the Nomu factories were one and the same.”

“That bastard’s big mouth always got him in trouble,” said Dabi. “Do you know for sure if he’s…”

“If he’s alive, Sir Nighteye will find him,” said Hawks. “I’m sorry it…”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” said Dabi, as if informants were regularly hunted down, beaten into bloody pulp in their own home, and vanished without any further trace than a few severed fingers. God, Hawks really hoped that wasn’t normal in Dabi’s experience.

“How long did you know him?” asked Hawks.

“Years,” said Dabi, averting his gaze again. “He was— It was right after. We lost Chiyo and then we ran into him right after, and he’s the reason we could hide from the Commission. We wouldn’t have survived without him.”

“The more I hear about him, the more of a good guy he seems,” said Hawks.

“Good? f*ck, no, if he heard you say that he’d probably puke,” said Dabi. “It was quid pro quo. We had useful quirks, he had useful skills, it was a partnership."

“With the kind of money and pressure the Commission could throw around, though, any other partner could’ve turned on you easily,” said Hawks. “Giran wouldn’t bend for them, and he didn’t talk until he knew he had a hero in hand who’d make sure you stayed safe. That’s a good guy in my books.”

“…Yeah. I guess so,” Dabi muttered. “Guess a real bad guy wouldn’t help us find out what happened to Chiyo or the others, either.”

“Chiyo being…”

“Another from the factory,” said Dabi. “She broke out with the rest of us. If you can call it ‘breaking out’ when it was just that she was close enough for Kurogiri to grab while I was torching the place. We didn’t know her beforehand. Cages weren’t always close, you know? And the Doctor liked structuring what interactions we had. Who we could talk with and when. He used it as a reward for us sometimes, a punishment in others. It was always a game to him. Sometimes he’d ‘slip’ and let me talk with the kid in the cell next door, and I’d know she’d have a metal teeth quirk. Then it would go quiet, and then he’d bring me into the lab and there’d be his new Nomu with metal teeth, and the rest of her in pieces on another table to recycle into something else. He ran through ‘subjects’ so fast the Commission almost couldn’t keep up. So many dead, and never a Nomu that would stay alive or together or strong enough for what he wanted. The only reason I wasn’t one of them was because he said my quirk was too valuable. He’d just take bits of me to see if that worked, and only commit the killing me once he had the Nomus properly stabilized. Until then… I was a witness. After a while I stopped talking to anyone he brought in close. Wouldn’t look at them, either. Thought it might not hurt as much that way. Maybe that was true, but it always did hurt.”

“f*ck,” Hawks whispered, horrified. “That’s— I’m sorry. f*ck, I’m so sorry you went through that.”

“And so many were like you,” Dabi went on, as if he hadn’t heard Hawks at all. “Villain parents, or parents that were convenient to cast as villains. They’d cry because they knew their mommies and daddies had been framed for things to get them out of the way, or to make them powerless enough that they couldn’t protect their children. You know the H.P.S.C. had agents working in the child protective agencies? Because they did. Lots of kids got removed from their families that way and ‘disappeared’ in the system.”

Hawks had suspected that, and hated that it was right. He opened his mouth to reply but faltered. Dabi still wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything at all, and his voice was growing more detached, like he was disassociating himself from the memories even as he was spilling them.

“Hey,” Hawks said urgently, “you don’t have to tell me this. I’m really grateful that you trust me enough to say it, but if you don’t want to or you’re not ready—”

But Dabi just talked over him. He was spiraling hard.

“It hurt to be there. The needles and the knives and the tests and the burning, and the screaming. I don’t know how I made it as long as I did. And then I decided I wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to let him hurt me anymore, I was going to destroy myself so fully he couldn’t use my pieces if he wanted to, and I was going to tear down all his work at the same time.”

His steps were starting to weave. Hawks seized his hand and tugged him so they were side to side, supporting some of his weight and wrapping a wing around his shoulders. Dabi’s temperature was running high with the stress, but he squeezed Hawks’ hand back; he was present enough to recognize the attempt at comfort.

“I was supposed to die, back then. The only reason I didn’t was because Kurogiri slipped his leash and used his quirk to dump me somewhere that could put out my fire. I don’t even remember where. When I woke up I could hardly think through the pain, and by the time I was coherent we were on the run. Kurogiri was the oldest, and he was determined to keep us safe. Shigaraki trusted him, and I didn’t give a sh*t anymore, but Chiyo kept fighting him. She wanted to go home. Her mom had been framed and arrested for some kind of drug charge but her unemployed dad was still there. She screamed and she cried and she even tried to hurt me to convince him she couldn’t stay, and eventually he gave up because she was going to get all of us caught. He used his quirk to deliver her home, straight into her loving dad’s arms, and he was so happy to see her again that we convinced ourselves she was going to be okay. For a little while I thought even I might be able to crawl home if I stayed quiet enough about it. But just as quick and quiet as Chiyo went home, the Commission went in and killed them both. They’d been watching, you see. The Commission had eyes on all of the families they stole from, because you never know when a relative might get wise and start asking around or trying to track down a displaced kid. They removed a lot of those people. Arrested, usually. Dead, sometimes. Always ‘accidents.’ There was one I know that slipped through their net. One of the kids came from a divorced family; Commission thought the bio mom was a deadbeat and all they’d have to worry about was the dad and stepmom, but the next thing they know, bio mom was out in public, screaming in front of one of those big Commission offices, where’s my baby? What did you do with my baby? They had one of their pet heroes go out and attack her there in the middle of the street to make her shut up. She died. Didn’t fight, only used her words, and they still killed her in broad daylight. They claimed she was ‘resisting arrest’ and that she’d been high or something and it was really the effects that killed her instead of the broken f*cking spine.”

Dabi sucked in deep, calming breaths.

“I hated her. Chiyo.”

Hawks was still reeling from all that phenomenally f*cked up information but tried to keep up. “Because she tried to hurt you?”

“Because her dad was so happy to see her again,” said Dabi. “After the Commission caught up with her we knew we could never go back. If we had any family left behind they’d go down with us, so it was a good enough excuse to stick together. But for years I’d remember her going home, and hating her because even if I’d had the chance to go home, nobody would’ve welcomed me back.”

“That’s not true,” said Hawks.

“It is,” Dabi hissed. “I was an experiment from day one. Maybe Ujiko and the Commission got hold of me later, but my parents had me with the hope that they’d create some revolutionary quirk to take heroics by storm.”

“A quirk marriage?” This was ringing a bell somewhere deep in Hawks’ mind but he didn’t have time to focus on it.

“My quirk isn’t what they wanted. Instead of getting their perfect little heir they got an embarrassment, so they kept trying. My father treated my mother like an incubator. She was either carrying kids or failing them somehow and he never let her forget it. And they got failure after failure after failure, and every time they’d look back at me and know I was where it went wrong, and all that sh*t could’ve stopped if I’d just— f*cking— come out right. But I was this ugly f*cking waste and neither of them gave me the f*cking time of day otherwise, and I knew as soon as I woke up in that f*cking laboratory that they were probably glad I was gone. Of course the Commission was able to get me. There was no way I’d be missed. I deserved to get taken.”

“No. No. Absolutely not,” said Hawks. He stepped in front of Dabi, still holding his hand but jolting him out of whatever self-hate reverie this had devolved into. “Don’t say that about yourself. You, right here in front of me, are the greatest person I’ve ever met. You came out of a supremely sh*tty situation, but you weren’t the cause of it. You were not where anything went wrong.”

“You don’t know sh*t about my family,” Dabi spat.

“No, but I think I know you!” said Hawks.

“Do you? Or do you just like the convenient little story you’ve spun about me? A hero on TV should only surround himself with decent people to keep up his reputation, so of course you’d build up the impression that the person you spend the most time with is good. Well, newsflash, Hawks!” Dabi’s temperature was spiking, his eyes shone bluer and brighter than ever, and his lip curled in disgust. “I’m a f*cking monster. There were probably still other kids in the Aomori factory, and they’re dead because of me.”

“You don’t know that! For all I’ve heard, all remains found there were proved dead even before the fire,” said Hawks.

“Can you really trust that report?” Dabi sneered. “And when Chiyo died, I was happy! I was glad her happy ending fell apart because if I couldn’t have one, why should anyone else!”

“You were hurt and homesick and a child! It’s natural for you to have been jealous!” said Hawks. “But if Chiyo were here and alive right now, you wouldn’t let her happiness fall to pieces! I’ve seen you do it for so many people already, no matter how jealous you’d be, you’d help her achieve it as much as you can—”

“As if that wouldn’t f*cking doom her anyway!” said Dabi. “Everything I touch gets ruined! I try to work a decent job and there’s a criminal investigation! I go part-time in a band and their bar is wrecked by a deranged villain! I go on a dating show and the production company decides to murder us with giant robots! I existed in my family and it all f*cking fell apart!”

“You can’t blame yourself for the consequences of your stupid f*cking eugenicist parents’ choices!” Hawks retorted. “What about your brother, huh? Your quirkless brother whose graduation you want to go to so badly! You said he was your favorite! He wouldn’t think you ruined anything! I bet he’d—”

“I f*cked him up,” Dabi snarled. “I clawed at him and complained and made him carry way too f*cking much and I ruined him! Of course he would hate me now he’s old enough to realize what sh*t I was!”

“You can’t just decide that for him! For all you know he’s been looking for you this whole time!”

“That family doesn’t give a damn about me! They erased my entire f*cking existence as soon as I burned!” Dabi clutched at his chest, bunching up his shirt in his fist as he downright shook with rage. “Don’t f*cking say I can’t decide sh*t! You’re the interloper here! You’re the one trying to rewrite a truth that’s already set in stone!”

“I don’t believe you!” Hawks shouted back, his eyes stinging. “You’ve been kind to me, when you could’ve hurt me so many times! I’ve given you so many openings, given you so much information you could use to your advantage, and you haven’t once used it no matter how profitable it could be! A monster wouldn’t do that! I don't know why you’re so desperate to believe these lies about yourself, but none of that should’ve happened to you! No matter how bitter, or sad, or difficult you might’ve been, you were just a kid, and no one deserves to be hurt like that!”

“Well I did!”

Dabi turned on his heel and stormed away.

“Hey!” Hawks hurried after him. “Don’t just walk away from—”

Dabi turned sharply, and blue fire blossomed between them. Hawks yelped, backpedaled, overbalanced in the sand and fell on his ass. Dabi looked at him through the curtain of flame—dark, looming, vicious. Nothing like the awkward, soft-hearted alley cat of a man he’d fallen for.

“Piss off, hero,” he snarled, and then he was gone.

The fire didn’t last long in the sand. The blue flickered out, but it had burned hot enough to melt bits of the beach into glass. For a long time Hawks didn’t move, and when he finally did his movements were jerky. He patted the sand off his clothes. His hands went up to his head to check his visor, but there was no visor. Automatically those hands redirected to his lapels to pull his collar up, but he wasn’t wearing a jacket either. Just beach clothes. There was no checklist of hero gear that he could distract himself by counting. His wings pulled in tight to his back and then forcibly relaxed. He walked back to the main resort with a steady gait.

“Hawks, what happened?” said Tatami, rushing to meet him. Her face was pale. “Dabi just came back, and he was—”

“Are you okay?” said Gentle.

“Fine,” said Hawks.

“I—I’ll get you some water,” said Fuwa, and rushed away.

“I don’t need it, I’m fine,” said Hawks.

“Are you sure?” said Gentle. “Because you’re—”

“Fine,” Hawks insisted.

He made his way to one of the daybeds, laid down on it, and folded his hands over his chest. Ah. In this position he realized that his hands were shaking, and his feathers were making a soft rasping sound as semi-sharpened quills shivered against each other. No wonder the nicer competitors were coming to circle him as if he were on a sickbed. He accepted a cup of water from Fuwa to make her feel better, rather than because he had any desire for it.

“For real, though, what happened?” Tatami asked gently.

“Yeah, Dabi blew everybody off when he came back from your talk and he looked super mad. I think he scorched the steps on his way up,” said Amplifier, uncharacteristically grim.

“Well, we tried to have a heart to heart,” said Hawks. “I was thinking, if we were already talking honestly, I’d confess my feelings.”

The others looked horrified. “He was that mad about a confession?”

“No, no, I— We hit on some… lingering trauma. I never got the confession out.” When the others still looked appalled, he went on, “People react in different ways to traumas, and the ones we touched were… pretty extreme. So. A volatile reaction is only to be expected. It’s not that he’s acting like that on purpose, he’s just hurt and probably blindsided, and I’m sure he’ll calm down soon, and—”

He paused at a distant sound. He’d left a stray feather in the bedroom—plenty of people would retreat there to gossip throughout the day for whatever reason—and it was picking up Dabi’s movement there. He could hear a rustling like thick paper being drawn out of the bag. For a moment all was still, and then came a crumpling noise, as if Dabi were trying to viciously ball it up. Almost immediately after that he cussed, and crinkling returned as he apparently tried to straighten it out again. More rustling as his grip tightened. The scrape of staples across a page. Clearly he was studying something painful, but without being there in person Hawks had no idea what it could be. Was it possibly a photograph? It was definitely something hardier than normal paper. A picture of the family he was so sure he’d wrecked? Whatever it was, Dabi’s breath was starting a painful rasp that tied Hawks’ stomach in knots. He couldn’t stand how painful it sounded.

“Gentle,” he said urgently, “can you check on Dabi? He doesn’t want to see me, but— Please, please make it stop.”

“Is he hurt?” said Gentle, concerned.

“Not physically?” Hawks winced at the sound of a particularly harsh breath. “Please.”

“I’m on it,” said Gentle, and hurried away.

“Is there anything we can do to help you, Hawks?” said Fuwa.

Hawks shook his head. “No, I’m not hurt or anything. I’d really rather have some peace and quiet to put my thoughts in order, if that’s okay.”

“Of course! We’ll give you space,” said Tatami, and shooed the others away.

Soon it was only La Brava lingering. Her expression was sad.

“I’m really sorry it didn’t work out,” she said quietly.

Hawks nodded in thanks or acknowledgement, he wasn’t really certain, but La Brava understood. She left, and Hawks was alone on the moonlit beach. He recalled the feather from the bedroom as soon as Gentle arrived there; he didn’t want to hear any more at this point and he didn’t think Dabi would want him to, either. The feather slipped back into his wing as if it had never left. He looked up at the stars, out at the distant lights of cruising boats, and with no other eyes on him, let the tears go.

To think he’d been so confident, earlier today. To think he believed he could manage a decent (if awkward and embarrassing) confession! All he’d managed to do in the end was ruin everything before he even got a chance.

Hero, Dabi had called him.

He hadn’t said the word like that since before they’d become friends. He said it like an insult. A rejection.

Forget potential romance, had their entire relationship gone down the drain?

The idea made him feel sick, but with the way Dabi had looked at him, what he’d said… it was a definite possibility. Even if they remained friends, they’d be on thin ice. The easiness would evaporate. They’d be starting from the beginning again. Hawks was willing to work to rebuild it, but god. He needed a little time to mourn first.

What had to be two hours later, one of the producers approached.

“You’re not really planning on staying out here all night, are you?” said Misty. There were bags under her eyes. “It’s really not that comfortable.”

“I’ve slept in stranger places,” said Hawks.

“You shouldn’t have to, though.”

Hawks shrugged. “I’d rather not go back to the bunk room at this point.”

Misty shifted her weight from one foot to the other and said, “I could get you a room back at the hotel. Not exactly Paradise policy, but if you don’t say anything, I won’t either.”

“I thought that was only allowed for the crew outside the dates?” said Hawks.

“You accepted that lanyard at the airport, didn’t you? That makes you one of us,” said Misty.

Hawks huffed a laugh. “Well, I appreciate it, but I’ll have to decline. I don’t really want to leave the resort right now. I want some distance, but… not that much distance.”

“I suppose I get that,” said Misty. “You know you can tell us if there’s anything you need, right?”

“I remember.”

“Okay. Good.” She nodded awkwardly. “Reach out at any time. Otherwise I’ll… see you in the morning.”

Hawks stayed on that daybed for the full night, but didn’t sleep much.

He retrieved his breakfast before any of the other competitors woke up and distanced himself as best he could. Dabi also retreated. On the few times Hawks glimpsed him, Dabi sat alone deep in thought. He waved off anyone who tried to talk to him.

The tension rippled out to everyone else, too. All the competitors were on edge, and even the ones who’d seemed confident in their partners yesterday were suddenly jumpy or trying to pick fights. Hawks didn’t listen in depth to any of them. He only rejoined the group as evening closed in and everyone had to prepare for the rose ceremony.

“Where have you been all day?” Gentle worried as soon as Hawks entered the bedroom.

“Nowhere important,” said Hawks, quickly changing clothes.

“We’ve all been concerned… Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

He sped through preparations and was on his way out via the balcony door when a hush went over the other men. When he turned his head, he saw that Dabi was standing in the opposite doorway. Dabi didn’t look at him, focusing his glower on the floor as he said, “This is just me telling all of you that nobody is allowed to pick Zookeeper for their rose this episode.”

Takahiro laughed uneasily. “Yeah, I don’t know why anyone would want to…”

“Exactly. No exceptions. There’s no valid reason anyone should want to do it. We all know she’s crazy. The only person she’s after is Shikkui, who doesn’t want her back, and no one else here is dumb enough for fall for any potential act that she might be into anybody else. If she tries to bully you into letting her through, drop her immediately. If you play along you’re bringing all of us down. Are we all in agreement?”

All of the others loudly agreed. For his part Hawks simply nodded and went on his way.

As usual, all the contestants gathered in the palapa, and Sato came out to greet them. He looked a little concerned at first, but as soon as he was in the cameras’ sights, he threw on the usual smile.

“Welcome back, everyone. I understand it’s been a rough few days for many of you. There have been misunderstandings. There have been breakups. But some relationships have persisted, and those relationships may go all the way to the end of Paradise and beyond. You know how this goes: it’s another rose ceremony tonight. Men, you are the ones with the roses. It’s time to have those conversations. Ladies, if any of you aren’t in a relationship by the end of the night you won’t get a rose. Do what you need to do, and I’ll see you later at the ceremony.”

Thus, the co*cktail party began. Hawks remained only at the periphery, gathering information with his feathers but otherwise not involving himself.

Kuin was up to her antics again. She’d gotten Tsutsutaka wrapped around her finger once more, had an extended conversation with a wary Cider, and tried her luck on Shindo again.

“How sad,” she said, draping herself seductively against a wall and batting her eyes. “I was so close to asking you on that date…”

“Look at my face,” Shindo simpered. “Look into my eyes. Listen to what I am saying: f*ck OFF.”

Yeah, clearly that wasn’t going well for her.

Zookeeper tried to scare Camie off, but that didn’t go any better.

“Shikkui is mine,” she insisted, her voice and expression deadly. “I am all he needs, all he will ever need. A floozy like you stands no chance. All he has to do is look at me and know I’m his everything.”

Camie sipped noisily at the straw in her co*cktail a moment, then chirped, “In that outfit? No way.”

Zookeeper tried to grab her, only for the woman to dissolve into sparkles; the Camie she’d been talking to had been a quirk-made illusion, and the real Camie was giggling in a conversation with Shikkui and Inasa by the bar.

Tatami, Fuwa, and Gentle were in a hushed, serious discussion about some kind of plan that had fallen through. They referred to it as “the operation,” and seemed to believe they could still steer the parties involved back toward each other. Gentle was advising caution. Fuwa feared that their interference had done more harm than good. Tatami insisted they should give it one last shot, and left the group. A few minutes later Hawks realized she was seeking him out for whatever reason. He sighed, resigning himself even before she spotted him.

“Hawks! Could we talk?”

“Sure,” he said, pasting on a smile. “It’s probably not going to do you a lot of good, though.”

Tatami sucked in a fortifying breath. “It’s about Dabi. I had a talk with him a few days ago, on how we felt about love.”

As if that wasn’t salt in the wound. Hawks didn’t need to hear how well they’d been getting along right after his failed confession attempt. He tried to turn away but she caught his wrist and said, “I think you need to hear it. Please.”

She didn’t look at him with pride but a plaintive determination.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Fine, whatever.”

He let her pull him to a couch out of earshot of anyone else.

“You know Dabi way better than any of us,” Tatami said as they sat down, “so you know that if you ask the right questions he’s almost painfully honest. But I think you’re close to him enough that you’re not always asking the right ones to get the answers you’re looking for. The two of us, we… talked about love. It was straightforward, and it hurt a little, but it gave a much clearer picture than what you’re probably going off of, so I need you to know that he doesn’t understand it.”

“What do you mean?” said Hawks.

“I mean that he’s in denial,” said Tatami. “He confessed that there are a lot of limits with his quirk that mess with his emotions, so he’s been denying all of them for a really long time. I think you already know some of the times he’d reject things that should matter to him, that do, but he refuses to acknowledge them because it could hurt.”

Even before my injuries no one wanted to engage with me beyond their initial assumption of my character, and after the injuries, no one even pretended to try, Dabi had said in his Bachelorette introduction video.

Shigaraki and I tried busking once, and no less than five people immediately called me in as a villain. No band will ever succeed with me attached to it, he’d said on a date, scratching at the printed musical score.

That’s how it is in this world.

The more people look at me or talk to me, the more they realize what a bad idea I am. I’m lonely.

You don’t know me.

Dabi always brushed things off. So many times it seemed nonchalant, but Hawks had seen the quiet care he put into them, the fear in his eyes when someone had stood him in front of a mirror and rejected his denials to tell him he mattered. That violent rejection when someone tried to tell him other people would care.

“It’s not that they don’t matter,” said Tatami. “He’s just struggling to accept them. He’s only recently realized how far in denial he is, and he said he wanted to change. To accept these things. And I think it’s your care and support that’s made him feel safe enough to start confronting all of those feelings he’s been rejecting.”

That almost-confession had ended in disaster, but… Dabi had opened up. He’d told Hawks things he probably hadn’t even hinted at to anyone else in years. He had been vulnerable.

“You think so?” Hawks murmured.

“I’m positive. You were trying to support him last night, weren’t you? He said something to imply that he was bad or wrong, and you corrected him, right?”

“I tried. But—”

“But that wasn’t a bad thing! He’s just been stuck with this misconception that he isn’t worth love for most of his life, so it’s clashing with his worldview. He knows that view is wrong. He’s trying to accept it. But that’s not something you change your mind about overnight. He needs some time to absorb it, that’s all.” Tatami held Hawks’ hand in both of hers. “Please don’t let this come between you. Just give him some time. Please.”

“I don’t know that I have a choice in it,” said Hawks. “He made it really clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me right now.”

“But you could try—”

“No.” Hawks shook his head. “I care about him a lot, and if he wants to try mending things later on I’ll be up for it, but I’m not going to overstep his boundaries this time. I’m waiting for him to make the first move.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” said Tatami.

Hawks gave a thin smile. “Then I’ll know he’s not comfortable with me anymore.” Tatami very clearly didn’t like this response, but that didn’t change his mind. He stood up again and said, “He’s got enough on his plate right now. I’m not going to pressure him into anything he doesn’t want to do. I think it’s better if you concentrate on yourself for the rest of the party.”

He left, but wasn’t far out of the treehouse when he ran into Toy-Toy.

“Oh, there you are! I was looking for you,” she said.

Hawks tried to straighten his smile into something a little nicer. “Hey, what’s up?”

For her part, Toy-Toy looked very happy. Practically radiant, compared to the expression she’d worn on the yacht. “I wanted to thank you. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on our date, and I wanted to let you know I’m going for it! I’m not going to settle.”

“Did you find someone here you’d be interested in?” he asked, intrigued.

“No,” she said. “I think I need a little more time figuring out that future and what I want from a husband, instead of accepting any blank slate. Maybe one of these men will be right after all, but I don’t think I’m in a place to recognize it, if you know what I mean? I’ll talk to Paragon and see if they’ll allow me back next season for Paradise. But for now, I’m going to be leaving.”

That sent an unexpected pang through Hawks’ chest. “Do you have to? There are more men coming next week…”

She shook her head, still smiling. “I think it would be a disservice to all of us if I just floundered around without a direction. But I haven’t given up! I’m more determined than ever to reach my happiness! I just wanted to let you know that, since you understood me before. Even if I’m leaving, I’ll be cheering for your happiness, too!”

She hugged him. Hawks patted her back and choked, “Good luck. We’ll miss you.”

“You too. Keep your head up, Hawks! You deserve to be happy, too!”

She flashed him a smile and left. Hawks watched her go, feeling strangely bereft.

Did Dabi feel unmoored, the way Hawks and Toy-Toy did? After that failed confession, would he fixate on it enough to leave, too? The idea made him feel sick.

Hawks mingled for the rest of the party, participating as far as the cameras were concerned, until it got late enough in the night that he decided it would be fine to retire to the palapa early. He split off from the most recent group, trudged up the stairs… and found his way blocked.

Despite everyone’s best efforts, Zookeeper had found Shikkui. She made a grab for his arm, but he pulled sharply away.

“Ah, Zookeeper—”

“Why are you pulling away?” she demanded. “We’re meant to be together. Why don’t you understand that?”

Shikkui tried to smile and kept his voice calm: “I’m really flattered that you like me so much, but we haven’t known each other for very long. You can’t really say we’re meant to be. I think we both owe it to ourselves to explore what we want in a partner—”

“So you’re just going to wait instead of going for what’s right in front of you?”

“Well…”

“Do you feel bad if you see me with other men?” She took a step closer, eyes wild. “When I kissed Romero, did you feel anything?”

Shikkui took a step back to keep their distance, clearly uncomfortable. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“That’s such a cop out. You’re full of sh*t!” she spat. “I kissed Romero because I wanted to provoke something in you, and you’re just—You’re full of halfhearted sh*t! Didn’t you come here to invest yourself in someone? What’s wrong with you that you’re not accepting me?”

“I came here to see if there was someone I could invest in, and get to know them better. I didn’t come here to accept a proposal from the first woman who laid eyes on me!” said Shikkui. “You keep saying we belong together, but how do I know that? I’ve known you for nine days, and on none of those days have you actually asked my opinion on anything! You just decide what you think I believe—”

“Of course I know what you think! I—"

“Stalked my social media, you told me that! But that doesn’t mean you know me!” said Shikkui. “And you don’t want to know me! You just want me to play a part!”

Zookeeper drew back, disgusted. “Is that all you think of me?”

“You haven’t exactly given me reason to think otherwise,” said Shikkui.

They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, both of them scowling.

“You will give me your rose,” said Zookeeper. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“I won’t,” said Shikkui.

“You will,” she insisted, and left.

Shikkui sagged in relief when she was gone.

“Good job,” said Hawks.

Shikkui whirled around. “Hawks! How long were you standing there?”

“Only a few minutes,” said Hawks. “I was going to butt in, but I think she needed to hear that from you. I’m glad you stood up to her.”

Shikkui laughed uneasily. “Yeah, I couldn’t do that before… Maybe it’s just confidence from knowing she’ll be gone after tonight, so I don’t have to worry so much about the consequences.”

“Whatever it is, it’s a good thing,” said Hawks. “Come on. Let’s see through this rose ceremony and get you to your freedom.”

He slung an encouraging arm over Shikkui’s shoulders, and they walked together back to the palapa.

The time for the rose ceremony was soon upon them. All the contestants trickled into the palapa and took their seats on the couches inside. Hawks had sat himself down in his habitual spot on the end of the couch with the one short leg. In previous ceremonies Dabi had sat beside him, but tonight he was on another couch, practically at the other end of the men’s line. He didn’t look angry anymore, at least. Just contemplative. Hawks pretended he didn’t notice. Everyone else seemed unnerved enough about the arrangement.

Sato came back and paused near the center of the room, where the little table and tray were stacked with roses.

“Ladies, gentlemen, welcome to the rose ceremony,” he said. “New relationships have been forming. Old relationships have gotten stronger. But the most important thing is that there is a great potential for love here. That’s why we’re all here. Gentlemen, there are ten roses to be given. Ladies, Toy-Toy has left Paradise, which means that there are twelve of you. I wish all of you the best. If you’re ready, we’ll get started.” He stepped aside, leaving the floor clear, and said, “Tokuda, if you would start us off?”

Tokuda went to the tray, picked up a rose, and said, “Ippan Josei.”

It took a second for Ippan Josei to process that she’d been called, but she jumped to her feet and hurried over, head ducked by habit even when the ceiling was tall enough for her. “Y-yes?”

“I enjoyed our time together and I’m hoping we can keep going. Would you accept this rose?” he said.

“I will!” She took it delicately in hand, and together they returned to their seats.

The ceremony went on.

Shindo picked Amplifier.

Tsutsutaka picked Chikuchi.

Hawks zoned out a little as he contemplated his own choice. No one appealed to him. He intended to pick Fuwa if she was still available when his name was called; she hadn’t connected with any other men, and hopefully would appreciate being brought to the next episode even if she had no chemistry with him either. If she was taken, that would be fine. He’d just pick whoever was left that wasn’t Zookeeper. It would be dull, and it would be emotionless, but this night could finally end.

Sato held out his hand to invite the next person. Inasa was shifting, but Dabi was the one who stepped forward.

“Can I go right now?”

For a moment fear gripped Hawks’ heart. Go? Like, leave?

Sato blinked in surprise. “To give your rose? Yes, please go ahead.”

Dabi nodded shortly. In complete silence he approached the tray. He picked up a rose. He studied it for a moment as if it held some great wisdom, rotating it between his fingers before turning back to the group. He didn’t call a name, but walked. He was probably headed toward Tatami, who he’d been comfortable with before. But Tatami drew in a sharp breath, because it suddenly became clear that Dabi wasn’t angling toward her. Dabi stopped close enough for his knee to knock into Hawks’ and looked straight down at him, expression infuriatingly neutral.

Is this a threat? Hawks wondered distantly. Is he going to make a jab about our argument and then turn around to make his pick?

“Hey,” said Dabi, casually. Softly. “You want a rose?”

It took a moment for Hawks to comprehend the rose directly in front of his face. He didn’t know if the room had stopped breathing or if his mind had just gone blank.

Him?

Dabi was giving a rose to Hawks?

Was that allowed?

His eyes trailed back up to Dabi’s face. If Dabi were joking, he would smile; everyone would laugh and move on and the cameras would have their juicy clip to shoehorn into episode previews. But Dabi didn’t smile. He said nothing about their argument. He waited, and no one laughed, and no producer was running in to smack the rose out of his hands. So this… was allowed.

Hawks had permission to accept the rose.

He had permission to stop reining in his thoughts when he lingered too long on the way Dabi’s eyes crinkled when he was amused even if his mouth didn’t shift; on what a kind-hearted person he was even while he was playing up the petty asshole routine; on how Hawks always wanted to be closer, closer, closer because it felt easy to just exist around him and easy had always felt so hard. Dabi hadn’t even blinked at the parentage the Commission had been so convinced would damn him.

Dabi had reached out like this of his own volition.

Hawks had permission to want. To hope.

He felt a smile spread slowly over his face.

“Yeah,” he replied, reaching up to take the rose. “I think I’d like that.”

“Cool,” said Dabi, and sat next to him on the couch as if the very foundations of the show hadn’t just been rocked.

Amplifier made a shrill noise like a delighted tea kettle, and that broke the dam because suddenly all the contestants were screaming and hollering.

“Finally! Finally!” Tatami wailed.

“It’s really happened!” cried Gentle.

“Congratulations!” said Fuwa.

The others were all babbling along the same lines, clearly thrilled by the development. No one else’s selection had ever gotten this kind of reaction! Hawks laughed, embarrassed but pleased. Dabi’s healthy skin was going red even as he fought to keep his expression clear.

“Aren’t we in the middle of a ceremony? Hurry it up,” he grumbled.

“Yes! Yes we are!” said Sato, who looked near tears with happiness himself. “Inasa! Your turn!”

Inasa bellowed with excitement and charged up to grab a rose. “La Brava!”

The following couples all had way too much energy in their presentations.

Gentle picked Tatami.

Cider picked Claire Voyance.

Takahiro picked Kuin.

Shikkui picked Camie, which had Zookeeper fisting her hands so her knuckles went white.

This left an odd number of women left. The heteronormative setup had been skewed; with two men out of the picture, even after Toy-Toy already gone they were left with four women. Mongoose, Zookeeper, X, and Fuwa were all roseless.

“Hawks,” said Sato, “we know that you’ve already accepted a relationship tonight, but your rose is still here to be given away. Please come up and present it to the woman you’d like to see with us in the future.”

Hawks kept his rose close to his chest, but he went up to the tray and called, “Fuwa.”

Fuwa let out a shaky breath and walked up to meet him. He eyed her with a grin.

“I have a suspicion of what you did,” he said, “so here’s me paying you back.”

“It was worth it,” she chuckled, accepting her rose.

Once everyone was back in place, Sato went to the center of the room again.

“Mongoose, Zookeeper, X, I’m sorry. Take a moment and say your goodbyes.”

X was fuming. She hugged the few friends she had and flounced out without a word, though. Mongoose got a lot more sympathy and some actual sorrow at her loss. Zookeeper, on the other hand? She pointed at Shikkui like some villain in a cartoon and growled, “You will regret this,” before stomping her own way out.

Hawks leaned slightly against Dabi and said, “Good riddance, right?”

“Abso-f*cking-lutey,” said Dabi.

“And that’s all for the rose ceremony tonight, everyone!” said Sato. “Like all of you here, I’ll be thrilled to see how the future unfolds for our couples! From Paradise, good night!”

With that the episode was a wrap. Everyone tried to mob Dabi and Hawks, but the producers rushed in citing confessionals, so they were dispersed happily enough. Hawks was brought to his usual confessional location, where Joules asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know what just happened, but I’m very happy,” said Hawks, smiling wide. “I never actually got out the confession I wanted to give, and I’m not sure what conclusions he’s drawn after our argument, but this is a really good sign, right? You don’t give roses to people you hate? I have to talk to him to know for sure what his plan is, but I’m feeling positive about it!”

Because Dabi wouldn’t have allowed anyone to bully him into giving his rose to someone specific, and Hawks wasn’t in a position where he’d need a pity rose to go forward. There was really no other explanation than the fact that Dabi wanted to do this, and the more Hawks thought about it, the more his wings puffed up in excitement.

Judging by past rose ceremonies there would be an informal party in the palapa for all the contestants to wind down after the selections—champagne would of course be served—but Hawks had little patience for that tonight. He sent a feather up toward the place Dabi had his own confessionals. It met him en route; Dabi had clearly ended his own interview quickly, too. The feather brushed at his elbow, and when he held up his hand wrote on his palm:

“C-A-N-W-E-T-A-L-K-?”

Dabi took the feather in a warm, gentle grip, and hummed his agreement. In the next minute he was brushing aside a fern as he reached the same terrace Hawks was waiting on. He was moving a little slow, as if wary about whether he was welcome.

“Hey,” Hawks chuckled, holding up the rose like a toast.

“Hey,” said Dabi. “Sorry about the…” He gestured lamely at the dark beach.

“It’s cool. That sort of ordeal f*cks people up, so dealing with it isn’t pretty. I know that from my own experience,” said Hawks. “I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have acted that way with you, no matter how angry I was,” said Dabi. “You were only trying to help.”

“I think I still could’ve reacted better,” said Hawks.

“And so could I,” said Dabi.

Hawks huffed a laugh. “Are you just going to try stealing any potential fault here?”

“I don’t know, are you going to keep trying to fault yourself when you don’t need to?” Dabi retorted. He shook his head. “Look, let’s just drop it. It was f*cked up, you didn’t want to hurt me but I didn’t want to hear it, and I won’t react like that if it ever comes up again. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” said Hawks. “…I hope you don’t mean that this is a ‘sorry for yelling at you’ rose.”

“It’s not,” said Dabi.

Hawks hadn’t thought so himself, but this answer gave him the confidence to take a step closer. “Then… I wonder if you could tell me why you chose me? Because I’ll admit, even before our… discussion… I wasn’t expecting a rose from you.”

Dabi’s eyes dropped to the ground and his jaw worked as he struggled with his words. Hawks waited patiently, holding the rose like an anchor, its petals against his chin.

“My life has always worked in a cycle of hope, embarrassment, and disappointment,” Dabi said at last. “There isn’t a single goal I’ve undertaken, or a relationship I’ve been involved with, that hasn’t followed that trend. Even coming here to Paradise, it was because of a failure. I got a job as a janitor at one of the Paragon offices after a long time being unemployed, but it turned out to be a filing mistake so when I showed up they immediately wanted me out. I was mad, and I was humiliated, and I made a scene while I was leaving, and Misty saw me on the way and decided I was striking enough to stand out in the crowd at the Bachelorette mansion, so she offered me the role. I took it because I figured I had nothing to lose, not because I was into the idea of The Bachelorette or in any way interested in falling for anyone. So, if you think you’re a liar for going into that program for witness protection, I’m twice the fraud because I was treating it like a free vacation. A sh*tty vacation, but a free one. I didn’t expect to meet you there. I knew from the start that I’d have to deal with Pro Hero Hawks, but I didn’t realize I’d also be getting… Keigo Takami. If you’re comfortable being known that way.”

He glanced up at Hawks and then right back down again; for his part Hawks was pretty sure he was tearing up.

“If something goes right in my life, it’s only a matter of time before it gets taken away or slandered. It’s usually a pretty quick process. So with you, I believed it would be the same. But I waited and I waited… and you’ve been by my side and trying to build me up and acting like I’m worth a damn, like you genuinely want to be here. People have claimed that sort of thing before, but they never mean it. They always take it back or leave. But it’s been months, and you’re still—” He swallowed hard. “I don’t understand it. I really can’t. There’s no reason for you to buy into an act like that for so long. Especially letting me live in your apartment between filming! You’re talented, you’re well known, you’re hot, there is nothing you can gain from me. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I’ve been stuck in the hope stage this whole f*cking time and I don’t know what to do with myself. I know realistically it has to end. I’ve thought the whole time that this was an impossibility, but… you make me want to try. I want to believe all those things you say about me. I want to believe it so badly. When you said I didn’t deserve what happened— I don’t think I could ever believe that from anyone else. But if it’s you I want to try.”

“You think I’m hot?” Hawks said in a watery voice.

Dabi flushed. “Is that all you got out of that? Yes, you’re hot! That was never in question!”

“I questioned whether you thought I was hot,” said Hawks. He stepped even closer, so they were almost nose to nose, and Dabi was still too embarrassed to meet his eyes, and Hawks’ heart was doing something mushy. “I—I think I fell for you on night one of The Bachelorette.”

That startled Dabi into finally meeting his gaze. “You what?”

“Night one,” Hawks said firmer. “You did the smolder and I forgot everything else that was happening in that room. I thought you were just really, really good at the smolder, but then you were really good at everything else, too. I didn’t think there was a way to sexily pick up a rice bowl, but you did it! And finally I realized, wow! I was just down bad and really terrible at recognizing it!”

“You… fell? What?”

“Yes!” Hawks laughed. “All those things I said to you were true, and one of the reasons I was able to recognize all those good traits of yours is because I really like you. Yesterday when I was trying to get you alone and off the microphones to explain where I was coming from… it was supposed to be a leadup to confessing to you, because I didn’t want you to doubt me. So, even though yesterday didn’t work out too well, I’m really glad you gave me this rose tonight.”

Even though he’d given the rose and made the first move, Dabi looked at him in shock. “You like me?”

“I do,” said Hawks. “And you like me?”

“Yeah,” Dabi said weakly.

“Then even if you don’t fully believe it yet, I’m glad you decided to try. I’ll do my best to convince you,” said Hawks. “Can I hug you?”

Dabi opened his arms in wordless response, and Hawks embraced him as tight as he dared. The last time they’d hugged Dabi had been awkward, and just as before his warm hands settled under the base of Hawks’ wings, but this time they were with more confidence. Dabi relaxed. It was incremental, muscle by muscle until he practically sagged against Hawks and let out a shaky sigh.

Hawks got the idea that something very fragile had finally found a safe place to land.

Natsuo liked to think he was getting desensitized to the whole ‘heroes everywhere’ thing. His father was Endeavor, after all, and he didn’t even bat an eye anymore when Mt. Lady, Ryukyu, or Rumi dropped by.

But it was one thing to expect heroes.

It was another thing entirely to have All Might at the threshold of the Todoroki family home.

All Might looked nothing like the loud, enormous man who’d stood so long at the peak of heroics. He was still tall, certainly, but emaciated—his skin lay sharp over his bones, his eyes dark and sunken and hair almost wilted. There was a gleam in his eyes, though, and his jaw set in a manner of a dog that would bite down and refuse to relinquish its grip no matter how much you shook. He may have trashed his body in whatever that fight in Kamino Ward had been, but no one who could see him this close would dare call him weak.

“Pardon the intrusion,” said All Might. “I was hoping to speak with Endeavor.”

Natsuo had frozen upon opening the door, but shook himself back to reality. “Oh. Uh, sure, let me see if he’s free.”

He gestured for All Might to come in. All Might did so, taking off his shoes in the genkan and then following Natsuo into the house in a pair of guest slippers. Shouto was reading at the table in the sitting room; he looked up at the approaching footsteps and co*cked his head in confusion.

“All Might?”

There was a clatter and squeak of surprise from the kitchen. “All Might?” Fuyumi hurried out, wiping her hands quickly on her apron. “Oh, my god—I mean, welcome, sir! It’s wonderful to meet you in person!”

“Likewise,” said All Might, bowing his head. “You must be Miss Fuyumi, and the young man here would be Natsuo?”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Fuyumi. “I’m so sorry, but is something wrong? Is Shouto’s class being brought back to the dorms? Has there been a villain attack?”

All Might held up a hand to stop her fretting and cracked a smile. “Nothing of the sort, young lady.”

“He’s here to see Endeavor,” Natsuo said meaningfully.

If anything that made Fuyumi even more nervous. She clearly remembered Endeavor’s hissy fit after All Might had retired—some of the training equipment still bore scorch marks.

“I’ll go get him,” she said. “Can I ask what this is about?”

“Something business, but also something personal,” All Might replied cryptically.

Fuyumi nodded uncertainly but hurried off.

Business? What was business supposed to mean? All Might was retired so it shouldn’t be hero work. That only left his job as a teacher.

“For real, though, did Shouto flunk a test or something?” said Natsuo.

“I bet it’s English,” Shouto deadpanned.

“I thought you were good at English,” said Natsuo.

“That was before we started spelling exceptions,” said Shouto. “I before E except after C is a lie.”

“Oh, yeah, English is ridiculous,” said Natsuo.

All Might chuckled. “If it helps at all, young Shouto, you are already far more proficient in the language than I was when I studied abroad in America… and even many native speakers get those rules wrong.”

“That may be true, but I don’t think Present Mic will accept that,” said Shouto.

They were interrupted as Fuyumi returned with Endeavor in tow. Endeavor paused in the doorway and… looked at them. Fuyumi wrung her hands, glancing between them all as if expecting a fight. Shouto remained still but watched Endeavor out of the corner of his eye. Natsuo balled his hands into fists, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

They’d all grown up with the name “All Might” flung around like a curse. Endeavor had dedicated literal years of his life and the sanity of his family to the idea of ripping the other man off his pedestal. All Might may not have realized that coming here was essentially treading on enemy territory, but Endeavor certainly did. Would he fly into a rage as he’d done after All Might’s retirement? Would he simmer through a talk and then take out his frustrations on them when All Might left? Was Shouto going to be okay?

“Fuyumi,” Endeavor said at last, “I’ll take that tea into the other room.”

His brow may have been furrowed, but his voice gave nothing away. Confused, Fuyumi handed off the tea tray to him (she’d been making a pot for him to drink in his office), and Endeavor tipped his head in wordless order. All Might followed him away. The siblings waited a good thirty seconds to be sure they were gone, then both Natsuo and Fuyumi rushed for the table. Shouto jerked his book toward his chest in surprise as both of them slapped their hands down on the wood and started demanding hushed answers.

“Why the f*ck is All Might—”

“Are you sure you’re not in trouble?”

“—and here of all places, it can’t—”

“—please, please, please, he’s not the type to stay, or—”

“—why would he even—”

“—and the house is not fireproof, and All Might’s not fireproof, I don’t think—”

Shouto watched them blankly until they realized he wasn’t going to answer until they shut up. They both paused for air, and when Shouto knew he had their undivided attention, he shrugged.

“What the f*ck does that mean?” cried Natsuo.

“If he were here about me, he’d have given me a warning,” said Shouto. “So, I don’t know why he’s here.”

Great.

Natsuo gritted his teeth and looked back up at the hallway where they’d disappeared. “I’m going to listen in.”

Fuyumi gasped. “You can’t do that! It’s so rude, and All Might said it was for business!”

“Yeah, well, All Might’s also a severely injured civilian alone in a room with a man who’s wanted him dead for over two decades,” Natsuo snapped. “I may not be a hero, but I’m not leaving him alone like that.”

“All Might may be injured, but he’s more capable than you think,” said Shouto. He closed his book, though, and stood. “I’ll go with you.”

“Not you, too!” Fuyumi groaned.

“Midoriya says that the essence of being a hero is sticking your nose in other people’s business,” said Shouto.

That didn’t sound right, but Natsuo was too grateful for the support to try arguing the point. They crept down the hallway, Fuyumi sneaking after them with whispered pleas for them to stop. Having grown up in this house with a vested interest in avoiding attention, they all knew the path to take in order to steal silently into the room beside Endeavor’s chosen meeting place. They settled in Shouto’s old tutoring room and sat close to the shoji panel. They could hear Endeavor and All Might through the paper—they were making stilted small talk about the weather and the garden—but if they weren’t careful, the heroes would hear them, too.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Endeavor said at last, interrupting All Might’s appreciation of the teacup designs. “Did Tensei Iida send you?”

“He did not,” said All Might. The light click of the teacup told them he’d set it down, to get to business. “No one in particular sent me, but I’m going to give you some information that Tsukauchi was intending to send along regardless.”

Endeavor shifted. “Does this have to do with my last meeting with Eraserhead?”

“It does,” said All Might. “They’ve discovered just how Touya’s death was falsified.”

Wait. What?

Natsuo looked at the others. Shouto’s eyes were wide, and Fuyumi pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. All Might had no idea that he’d dropped such a bomb on them; he kept going.

“The labs that ran the testing on the jawbone found at Sekoto Hill were adamant that their results was accurate and unbiased. We had assumed that someone had been bribed to forge the results, but it’s come to our attention that it may not have been needed. Doctor Ujiko had created a number of specialized Nomu, and one of them—referenced as ‘Mocha’ in the records—was able to create… duplicates. It is now our belief that Touya was duplicated by this Nomu to cover up his kidnapping. After all, if there was ‘proof’ that he didn’t leave the hill, no one would look for him.”

Natsuo’s hands were shaking now, too. This was what he’d been pushing—what he’d argued with Fuyumi over, that the evidence was wrong and Dabi and Touya were the same—but hearing the cold facts laid bare like this felt like being stabbed. They implied so much more.

To cover up his kidnapping.

Touya didn’t willingly walk out of their lives. Someone had stolen him, and Touya wouldn’t have made it easy. Had the fire of Sekoto Hill been the result of self-defense? For a boy who willingly, repeatedly hurt himself for his goal, how badly had he been hurt to make him stop struggling? Sekoto Hill was in walking distance of their house. Had he looked in that direction, hoping or screaming for help?

Endeavor sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled in a way that sounded like he was blowing smoke.

“Is the Nomu accounted for?” he growled.

“It’s dead,” said All Might. “I destroyed it ten years ago, without realizing it. Doctor Ujiko listed its death. Its… parts… were unable to be recycled, so we don’t have to worry about potential imitations at this point.”

“Then we’re back to square one,” said Endeavor.

“Better that than taking steps backward,” said All Might. He paused, then said, “I volunteered to tell you this because we have very similar goals.”

“Of course we have similar goals!” Endeavor snapped. “What idiot doesn’t want this whole Nomu debacle and everyone behind it crushed?”

“We’re both addressing the problem of the Nomu,” All Might agreed, steady even before Endeavor’s frustration, “and we are also both looking for missing children. That is the personal nature of my visit.”

Endeavor paused. “What do you mean?”

“It is… a long story. I’m sorry to take up your time, but I hope you’ll listen,” said All Might. There was silence a moment, as if he were gathering himself. “I went to U.A. like you did, but more than anyone, I credit Nana Shimura with my education as a hero.”

Nana Shimura? Where had Natsuo heard that name before… The Criminal Age documentary sprang back into mind. Nana Shimura: buff, smiling, kicking ass without any heed for fame.

“She was my mentor,” All Might continued. “The criminal All For One is my enemy only because he was hers first. He is a selfish, despicable man who delights in the suffering of others. Nana knew that, and did her best to protect me from it. She also wanted to protect her son. She’d been a mother, you see, before she and All For One laid eyes on each other. He was relentless, and after her husband was killed, she was afraid her son would be caught in the crossfire too. Rather than see him hurt, she made the decision to give the boy up. It was a good choice. Only six months after she’d given her son away, All For One killed her. It was… a particularly gruesome death.” His voice was heavy with grief. “Because I was her heir, All For One’s wrath turned to me, and knowing that, she’d made me promise never to interact with her family, to make sure I’d never accidentally draw his gaze to them. I never met or communicated with them, but I did monitor them. My home was bleak. When Nana took me under her wing, I thought of her and her family as my own. When her son grew up, I was proud of his progress, as I would be of a brother’s. When he married, I sent him an anonymous gift because I wanted so badly to support him in his happiness. When he had children of his own, a foolish and distant part of me liked to pretend that in a different world, I could’ve acted as their uncle.”

There was another pause, and a shuffling sound as All Might presumably pulled something from his wallet. Endeavor grunted in recognition of whatever it was—a photo, judging by All Might’s next words.

“These are Nana’s grandchildren. The little girl is Hana, and the little boy is Tenko. Their dog is Mon. I understand that they loved him very much.”

“How are they related to Touya?” asked Endeavor, gruff but quiet.

“The Shimura family was also kidnapped by All For One.”

“When?” Endeavor asked sharply.

“Eleven years ago,” said All Might. “The whole family went out for a day trip—Nana’s son, his children, wife, and her parents. All For One caught them while they were out in the countryside and took them prisoner. In addition to being able to take someone’s quirk, All For One was able to give quirks to other people. That’s how he gained such a dedicated following. But gifting a quirk like that can be cruel. While the Shimuras were his prisoners, he forced a destructive quirk on young Tenko. The boy was quirkless and well past the age of manifesting an ability, so he didn’t know how to cope with it. It also wasn’t something that had manifested in the family line, so his parents had no idea what to expect either. Not being made for his body, the quirk made him suffer. But when his family reached out to console him, the quirk killed them. I was too late to save them. Since I was monitoring the family, I was one of the first to know when they disappeared, and when someone found the dog left with their belongings. The children wouldn’t have left Mon like that. I knew immediately it was foul play. But I wasn’t fast enough. By the time I tracked down All For One’s hiding place, young Tenko was the only one left alive.”

Another pause. The quiet was heavier now. Foreboding. When All Might spoke again the grief was almost overpowering.

“When I found him, he was so frightened that he couldn’t speak. I broke him out of his cage and tried to carry him out, but All For One arrived. We fought, and I won, but… not really. The destructive quirk he’d given young Tenko was called ‘Decay.’ Whatever he touched with all five fingers would disintegrate. In the chaos of the fight, he accidentally touched himself. Perhaps if the quirk really was his he might’ve been resistant to it, but…” All Might swallowed thickly. “He was not. Tenko Shimura fell apart in my arms, looking at me with the fear of a dying child, but the faith of one who thought I could still save him. But I couldn’t. I was useless. That face has haunted my dreams for a decade.”

“I’m sorry,” Endeavor said quietly.

“The only comfort I could take was that I wasn’t the one who gave their location away,” All Might murmured. “All For One delights in pain. He was happy to regale me with the details of the Shimuras’ deaths from the quirk. If he had followed me to them, he would’ve goaded me for that, too.” All Might drew in a deep breath and forced his tone steely again. “It is true that All For One is a sad*stic mastermind, but in this case, it works in our favor.”

“Favor?” Endeavor scoffed. “Kidnapping and traumatizing works in our favor, now?”

“It does if it indicates the children might be alive,” said All Might.

Another clack indicated Endeavor had set his own teacup down. “Explain.”

“All For One orchestrates all his schemes for maximum distress,” said All Might. “Why did he never step forward, even after the program was in his name alone, to say that he’d taken Touya? He could’ve destroyed you in the eyes of the public: the Number Two who couldn’t protect his own firstborn. At the time, the press was still enamored with your family—there was almost as much footage of Touya as there was of me! He was a media favorite! All For One could have weaponized that, but he didn’t. That indicates that he had something more sinister in mind.”

“I am aware,” Endeavor said through gritted teeth. “Touya’s quirk—”

“Was powerful, but he as a person was even more valuable,” said All Might. “Endeavor. Could you have fought a Nomu wearing your son’s face?”

What the f*ck.

Natsuo felt like he was going to be sick. He turned his horrified gaze on Shouto. Shouto, who’d been attacked by Nomu at the USJ and on the night of Stain’s arrest; Shouto, who was staring at the wall as if realizing how close that kind of nightmare scenario could’ve been for him.

“It is my belief that Touya was being stored,” said All Might. “Fire quirks are easy to obtain, but the son of the Number Two is not. The Nomu program has existed for a long time, but we saw from the USJ that it took over a decade to produce one fit for the field, and Ujiko’s notes state that they were still in an experimental stage. He was about to debut a new batch called ‘High Ends’ with twice the effectiveness. If All For One was going to confront you with Touya, it would be in the most high quality form, to be sure it could get rid of you. Therefore, while they took Touya at the most convenient time, they would have waited until the project was ready before doing him any more harm than necessary. For that reason, I believe Touya is alive and intact.”

“He wasn’t in any of the factories we raided,” said Endeavor. “All For One’s hideout, where he kept the Shimuras, where was that? Could there have been a hidden chamber?”

“We’ve already checked over the site, and there’s no sign of any visitors since my fight there,” said All Might. “You’re right, though, to link Touya’s location with Tenko’s. With the details of this new investigation, I believe Tenko may also be alive.”

“After you watched him fall apart?”

“The Nomu Mocha’s duplication ability could create copies of people. Not fully autonomous ones, but passable fakes that could move and emote in echoes of their source. According to the notes, their biggest giveaway was that they couldn’t talk.”

“And you said Tenko Shimura was too afraid to talk?”

“Exactly. If All For One had already set plans in motion to do something so terrible to you, when you weren’t his sworn enemy, why should he have settled for something so simple and quick when faced with myself and Nana’s legacy? I will admit there is no proof, but with the circ*mstances as they are… I think that the real Tenko is alive and being held the same as Touya. If they were meant for the same project, then it’s entirely possible that they were kept in the same place.”

Endeavor’s thoughts were clearly running along the same lines: “You believe that if we find one, we’ll find the other?”

“Yes. Since we don’t have proof of Tenko the way we have it for Touya, his existence isn’t being considered as part of the investigation,” said All Might. “But if you’re tracking down a lead on Touya, and find traces of Decay instead…”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Endeavor. “Have there been any leads on Giran or Kurogiri?”

“None, I’m afraid.”

They spoke a little while longer—about points in a larger investigation, about destroyed factories, about movement of other heroes involved—but eventually All Might’s cell phone began to ring.

“That would be Principal Nezu. I’m afraid I’ll have to take this,” said All Might. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

“I’m not able to go on the investigation team yet, but I’ll pass the information along to my contacts involved,” said Endeavor.

“Much appreciated. Please do thank your children for their hospitality. They’re very polite.”

“…Yes.”

Both men left the room. Even with them gone, for a long time none of the siblings spoke. Fuyumi was the one to break the silence.

“He was such a crybaby.” She was staring straight ahead, completely shellshocked. “He would’ve been crying.” And so did she, tears beginning to well up as her face twisted in horror. “When that person took him and the hill was burning, he would’ve been— He would’ve been—!” Natsuo had no idea what to say, so pulled her into a hug. She clung to him, shaking. “Someone took him! Someone— Oh, god!”

She broke down sobbing. It took a long time for her to recover from it. Natsuo and Shouto hovered by her, anxious because they’d never seen her like this before, and trying to reassure her because if they were right, Touya was alive and safe. This only backfired— her tears were interspersed with near-frantic I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t believe yous, and any satisfaction at getting her on board with the theory was nonexistent. Natsuo rocked her back and forth in his arms the way Mom had done for them as children, the way Fuyumi had attempted to comfort him when Mom was gone, and gradually she reined it in.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again into his shirt, which now had a big wet patch from the tears.

“Don’t be. We understand why you didn’t believe us before,” said Shouto.

“Yeah, if I weren’t already in this mess I’d totally think I was a conspiracy theorist,” Natsuo tried to joke.

“But you were right,” Fuyumi sniffled.

“Yeah,” said Natsuo, holding her tighter. “It doesn’t change what happened before, but it means we might be able to see him again.”

Another cell phone went off. It was a jingle for some obscure All Might TV show from years ago. Shouto quickly pulled out his phone and silenced it, then glanced up guiltily.

“Sorry. I set an alarm for Bachelor in Paradise.”

“You needed an alarm?” said Natsuo, incredulous.

“I wanted to ensure I was early enough to claim the TV in case Endeavor tried to use it first,” said Shouto.

“As if he ever watches TV,” Natsuo scoffed. “Does he even know how to use a remote?”

“I have indeed witnessed him use a remote at the agency,” said Shouto.

“…That was a joke, Sho.”

“Oh.” Shouto thought about it. “I don’t think it was very good.”

It was good enough to get a choked laugh out of Fuyumi, anyway. She straightened up, rubbed at her eyes, and said, “We— We should go, then. Turn it on. See him.”

The other two were happy to oblige, and quickly escorted her back to the living room. They passed Endeavor on the way, who did a double take.

“Fuyumi? Are you alright?”

Fuyumi immediately looked alarmed; as the law-abiding voice of reason in the house she would be loath to admit to eavesdropping as she had, so Natsuo cut in, “There’s been a plot twist in the drama we’re watching. Terrible one. Super dramatic.”

“…Oh?” Endeavor’s eagerness to be there was visibly evaporating. “It’s so bad that—”

“I cried too,” said Shouto, who clearly hadn’t been crying at all.

“It’s so bad,” Natsuo insisted. “I don’t know how we’ll survive the cliffhanger until the next episode. We need to distract ourselves with something mindless now.”

“Ah. Well. Enjoy?” Endeavor sent one last concerned look at Fuyumi but otherwise stepped aside.

“You know, we probably could’ve just admitted we wanted to watch Bachelor in Paradise and he’d leave just as fast,” Natsuo said as they sat down on the couch. “It’s like bug spray for him. It’s great.”

To his great relief this also surprised some humor out of Fuyumi. “I have noticed that before. I asked him to watch The Bachelor with me last year to convince him he didn’t have to stay with me one weekend instead of going to a conference. It wasn’t even the right time of year for The Bachelor to be on.”

“Glorious,” said Natsuo. “Maybe I’ll record the Paradise theme song and leave it on my voicemail and he’ll never contact me again.”

“You can do that?” said Shouto, intrigued.

It turned out that Shouto’s alarm was right on time, or otherwise that Bachelor in Paradise had an increased timeslot this time, because when the TV was turned on, it was already in the middle of the theme song.

The episode started with Gentle sneaking out of the men’s bedroom. It was so early only a thin gray light illuminated the resort, and he was constantly looking over his shoulder as if some assassin was haunting his steps. He slinked into the treehouse room, cast one more wary look outside, and closed the door with a quiet click. The lights were already on in the treehouse; Tatami and Fuwa were waiting there, and a few crewmembers could be glimpsed on the edges. All of them looked solemn.

“Were you followed?” said Tatami.

“I wasn’t,” said Gentle. “No feathers.”

“Good.”

Behind Tatami two of the workers—a feline quirk and a white-haired guy with little horns—spun a portion of the wall, changing it from a gaudy panel to a massive whiteboard already jumbled with notes in orange marker. Tatami brandished the marker in question at it and announced, “Welcome to Operation Hotwings! Our mission: to get Dabi and Hawks to recognize and act on their romantic feelings that literally everyone but them has noticed!”

“Counterpoint!” said Gentle. “They’ve absolutely noticed! They’re just in severe denial!”

“So much denial they’re drowning in it!” said Fuwa.

“Exactly!” said Tatami. “They’re both highly intelligent and empathetic, capable of picking up on other people’s crushes, except when any of that is directed toward themselves! They have massive blind spots! Critics might claim that they recognize it and are rejecting it, but it isn’t just about each other, they’ve got these blind spots for anyone liking them. Dabi still isn’t convinced Takahiro was genuinely into him, and the man did a sky dance for crying out loud!”

“Agreed, it must be part of their worldview,” said Gentle.

“Unfortunately, I can see where they’re coming from,” said Fuwa. “Tatami, you said Dabi never let himself feel or understand his emotions, so he’s never had the chance to explore romance… And from what he said on The Bachelorette, it doesn’t sound like he’s had any good examples. Especially considering what he said about his mother’s abuse, the concept of romance and marriage must’ve been tarnished. Maybe he never had any drive to pursue something like that because it only had bad associations for him.”

“Not to mention the prejudice he’s faced for his appearance,” said Gentle. “For all his shows of confidence, his self-esteem is practically nil. Hawks isn’t much better, either! When we first met he barely ever talked about himself, and would only pivot between what was the obvious moral route or divert to other people’s opinions. He got into heroics young and must’ve had significant backing to be where he is now, but such big support tends to come with a price. Do you think maybe he had a contract with his benefactor like idols do?”

“You know, that would explain so much,” said Tatami.

“Oh, you’re right! Idols are forbidden from having romantic relationships,” said Fuwa. “That contract must be up, if he’s on dating shows like this…”

“But if it was in place from a formative age, it could’ve impacted him in the long term anyway,” said Gentle.

“So when it comes down to it, we have Dabi who thinks he’s unlovable, and Hawks who thinks he’s not allowed to be happy.”

“That about sums it up,” said Gentle.

Wow. Just wow. Way to nail Touya’s biggest fear and the clusterf*ck of the Todoroki family in one roundabout conversation. Natsuo chanced a glance at the others. Shouto was blank-faced as usual. Fuyumi had her hands over her mouth and her eyes were still red, but thankfully she wasn’t reacting to that ‘no good examples of love’ bit. If she’d tried to defend Endeavor on that one it wouldn’t have gone well.

“The best solution,” said Tatami, scribbling a cartoon Dabi and Hawks on the board, “Would be for them to have a straightforward conversation about this. It’s clear to everyone that they do like each other and that their fears are unfounded in this case, and they seem to have emotional maturity enough to have addressed big things clearly in the past, but…”

“But those conversations never quite make the point,” Gentle said dryly.

Tatami drew lines over their heads with two angry swipes of the marker. “No kidding.”

“It’s like they’re scared to acknowledge it. They hint around it but they don’t want to be the one to take the first step for fear of being rejected, and they’re already so comfortable with each other that it’s a big risk to their dynamic,” said Fuwa.

“Which is totally valid, if frustrating!” said Tatami. “But I don’t know who Hawks thinks he’s fooling—"

“Aside from Dabi himself?” said Fuwa, fighting back a laugh.

“It’s nothing short of a miracle that he hasn’t acknowledged it. Hawks isn’t subtle,” said Gentle.

“Remember that soda can two days ago? Obliterated,” Tatami said with a shudder. “But the obviousness might work in our favor. If we can just crack through their thick skulls and have them consider it as a possibility, they’ll think back on everything and figure it out fast.”

“I think it would be best to work on Hawks first,” said Fuwa. “I mean, on the first day we all took Dabi aside and he said that he didn’t have a chance with Hawks. If Hawks is the one approaching him, I think it would work.”

“Hawks does seem like the one more likely to act on an attraction,” said Gentle.

“Then Hawks it is, but we’ll need to make sure Dabi is prepared for a confession too!” said Tatami. “Are we all in agreement?”

“Aye!” cried the others.

They immediately got to work at breakfast, sidling up to Dabi and Hawks and using the new boots (orange with tiger faces this time) as ammo for their wingman operation. It was clumsy at best.

A new woman appeared, talked to crabs, and was swindled out of her date card.

A largescale operation occurred to keep Zookeeper away from Shikkui, and to prevent any other collisions that might end in drama. During this runaround Tatami and Fuwa cornered Dabi and tried to wheedle him into admitting he found Hawks attractive. Dabi did not confirm or deny, just avoided it the same as he had all the other times anyone had tried asking him about this.

Another new woman was encouraged to just pick someone at random, and chose Hawks because of course she did. Everyone who’d suggested spontaneity looked like they’d swallowed lemons.

“We shot ourselves in the foot,” Tatami admitted in the confessional, head in her hands.

Dabi might have gone to try breaking up the date before it happened, but he was waylaid by Takahiro, who’d formed an alliance with Kuin.

“I know I said I’m over him, but I think I still have a chance,” Takahiro said in his confessional. “I mean, Hawks accepted another date! Why would he do that if he’s interested in Dabi? One date you might be able to brush off, but two? No way. And if Dabi’s feeling down about it, that should make it easy for me to come in and cheer him up! Just watch, I’ll be the one taking him on a date next!”

In her confessional, Kuin laughed. “It’s cute that Takahiro’s so fixated on Dabi. And if one birdbrain won’t ask Dabi out, what’s the harm in helping the other birdbrain do it?”

“Oh, god, this is painful to watch,” said Natsuo, as Takahiro did his best to hint at dropping Hawks for him, and Dabi failed to pick up on any of it. No, it was so bad that after La Brava gave the okay that Hawks did want to go on a date, Dabi escaped out a window rather than deal with Takahiro further. “What is it with Dabi being so attractive to so many bird quirks?”

“Tokoyami thinks it’s the staples. He’s shiny,” said Shouto.

“Please tell me your classmate isn’t also crushing on Dabi,” said Natsuo.

“No. Tokoyami likes mad banquets of darkness,” said Shouto.

“Mad banquets of what now?”

On the show, Dabi and Shindo watched jealously as Tookuda and Ippan Josei had a mini date on the beach. Dabi complained to Shindo that he and Hawks “just wouldn’t work.” Shindo, like ninety percent of the viewers, took great offence to his. He left Dabi behind and marched up to Tatami, his expression downright agonized.

“Tatami,” he said, “Dabi just told me he didn’t think he and Hawks would work, and he looked like he believed it. What is wrong with these people?”

Tatami clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes bright with glee. “You talked to him about it?”

“Tangentially!” said Shindo.

Tatami took a moment to gather herself, set her hands on Shindo’s shoulders, and said very sincerely, “Welcome to Operation Hotwings.”

It then cut to a confessional scene where Tatami was so excited she seemed ready to vibrate off the chair.

“This is fantastic!” she said. “We’ve got another member! We’re all working on Team Hotwings, surely with this kind of teamwork we’ll break through their thick skulls! And… maybe it’s selfish of me to say this, but I’m looking forward to working with Shindo again. Maybe we can revive that bond we had before if we have this kind of excuse to stay close to each other.”

“This makes so much more sense,” Shindo said in his own confessional, eyes focused somewhere in the distance. “I knew Tatami was really invested in him for some reason, I just couldn’t put my finger on it before. It’s this. She’s trying to set him up with someone else. That’s what all this was for.”

“Oh, that poor man,” Fuyumi chuckled. “He probably thought Tatami really was into Dabi on some level.”

Hawks went on his date. It was objectively terrible. Toy-Toy had a super depressing outlook on life, Hawks gave her a pep talk, and that was it. Far more entertaining was time at the resort, where Dabi was walking through life and getting his snacks in perfect peace, all while the members of Operation Hotwings were fending off Takahiro and Kuin’s efforts at sabotage. Other couples trying to have their moments were interrupted by Takahiro flapping in the background, or Gentle running across the camera line to waylay Dabi before he could cross Kuin’s path. By the time the two definitely-not-lovebirds returned from their date, Operation Hotwings was run ragged. Luckily their targets were working in their favor this time because Hawks sought out Dabi and talked about the future. And Natsuo was interested, of course he was, but the next line surprised him.

“I want to go to my brother’s graduation.”

He turned to look at Shouto, encouraging but also baffled. The impression of Touya hating Shouto’s existence was well and truly dispelled after their talk with Rei, but Shouto had said they only met twice. Did a high school graduation mean so much that Dabi would cling to the idea like this?

“My brother is studying to be a doctor. We haven’t… talked. In a while. But. He was my favorite.”

Wait a second. Doctor? Dabi was talking about Natsuo?

“He never got the attention he deserved. He isn’t what our father wanted, and he’s quirkless on top of that, so a lot of people write him off as a disappointment. He works hard, though, and he’s good at what he does. He deserves to be celebrated. When he makes it, I want to be there. I want to be the loudest, most annoying attendee in their fancy f*cking assembly hall, so he knows he has someone cheering for him. Our father sure as hell won’t. Mom’s physically incapable of attending. So. I want to. Even if he doesn’t recognize me.”

A lump formed in Natsuo’s throat. He put his hands against his face because he had to do something or he’d just be entirely overwhelmed.

Dabi was really talking about him.

For years he’d wished he could hear Touya again. For months he’d been desperate for some proof of identity from a man far too similar. As far as he was concerned, this was all the proof they needed. Dabi remembered him. Dabi recognized him. Dabi wanted to see him again. Dabi wanted to go to his graduation.

And to think, in some reality where Dabi hadn’t gone on a dumb reality show, it might’ve happened without Natsuo ever realizing. Natsuo could’ve walked right past the brother he missed so much, and never realized that he was there or alive or gave a damn.

f*ck not recognizing each other.

Natsuo was going to hand deliver a graduation invitation to Hawks himself if he had to.

“Natsuo, are you crying?” said Shouto.

“No I’m not,” said Natsuo, who was definitely crying.

And of course, in came the next woman. Camie was… interesting. She pulled Dabi with her to the beach for a Paradise explanation, and listened to all of Dabi’s complaints about the Zookeeper situation.

“Oh,” Camie said at the end. “So she’s cray-cray.”

“Yes,” said Dabi, thrilled to see her on the same page so fast. “We need someone to save Shikkui from her. Are you up for it?”

“Totes!” said Camie, and followed through.

In confessionals Zookeeper called her many names that were bleeped out by the editors.

“Don’t they have to do psych evals or something to go on this show? How did this person manage to get in with a personality like that?” said Natsuo.

“Probably the same way a producer was allowed to kidnap people,” said Shouto, eyes narrowed. He still had a grudge against whatever producer had allowed the hero date on The Bachelorette to happen, and Natsuo didn’t blame him.

“I suppose it would take them a while to weed out all the bad ones,” Natsuo grumbled.

He did not grumble long, though. Somehow between his weird date and the Shikkui mess, Hawks had decided to do research on confessions. He talked to Tatami and La Brava about high school confessions, and later convinced Dabi to go down to the beach with him… and that was all anybody knew.

“This is going to be good!” said Tatami, with her fingers crossed. “When they come back, Hawks will have confessed, and they’ll finally be together like they’re supposed to be—”

“I’m really looking forward to seeing how they act as a couple,” said Fuwa. “They’re so sweet and supportive of each other already! Would they just double it?”

“I don’t have that kind of faith,” said Claire Voyance. “If it were that easy, they’d be together already.”

“Don’t be a party pooper!” Amplifier whined.

“Whatever. It’s not like they make a good looking couple anyway,” X grumbled.

“That’s a heinous lie!” said Tatami, and they devolved into an argument.

That argument was quickly overshadowed by raised voices from the beach. The resort went quiet, everyone’s eyes turning to the sand. The words were indecipherable but it was definitely Dabi and Hawks yelling at each other.

“What are they saying?” said Fuyumi, leaning forward as if that might help.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t it have been caught on microphones or something? I thought those were supposed to be everywhere,” said Natsuo.

Dabi returned alone, blue embers flickering at his shoulders and smoke seething through his teeth. He ignored any attempt to talk to him, going instead to the bedroom where he threw open his suitcase and rummaged around for something. A shaky camera peered cautiously around a corner to record as he bowed over some kind of paper like it was something to mourn. Hawks also returned, rattled, but refused to move from one of the daybeds.

“Oh, no,” Fuyumi whispered, as Hawks explained that his confession had gone really wrong. “Oh, no…”

“Did he actually do the confession?” asked Natsuo, feeling uneasy. “I mean— Dabi’s into him. He’s definitely into Hawks. Surely it would’ve gone well? What could they have possibly said to get this out of it?”

Because Hawks looked downright heartbroken, and this shook all of the others to their cores.

“I don’t know what we can do about this,” said Tatami. “I really thought— How did it go so wrong?”

“Team Hotwings is done for!” said Takahiro, visibly smiling but audibly uneasy. “That suits me, but… wow. Didn’t expect the fallout to be so… explosive. Should I really approach Dabi right now? I don’t really know…”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again. If Dabi and Hawks can’t make it in Paradise, I don’t think anyone can,” said Shindo.

“If they fell apart, anyone can fall apart! If they still failed when they were so secure in themselves, how can any of us count on what we thought was certain?” said Mongoose. “I thought I was safe with Cider for the upcoming rose ceremony, but how would Cider be more reliable than Team Hotwings? I just don’t know. Should I look at other options? Would I believe in them any better?”

It sent all of them into a frenzy over the next day. Couples split. New ones formed. Those split, too. Everyone was on edge even into the co*cktail party. The only ones not actively freaking out were Hawks—gliding along the edge of the party and wearing an exceedingly fake smile—and Dabi, who’d taken up the same daybed Hawks had languished on the night before. Unexpectedly, instead of anyone from Operation Hotwings approaching him, it was Camie.

“Hey hey!” said Camie. She sat down next to Dabi without waiting for a response. “So, like, real talk. Do you hate Hawks’ guts right now?”

“What?” said Dabi. “No, I don’t (bleep)ing hate Hawks. Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re totally acting like you hate him and he def thinks that too,” said Camie. “For realsies, why’d you even fight?”

“We didn’t— I didn’t—” Dabi sulked. “It was a misunderstanding. I don’t hate him.”

Camie tipped her head. “So, like, if you don’t hate him, do you like him?”

“Yes. That should be obvious if I tell you I don’t hate him.”

“If you like him, do you like, like-like him?”

Dabi gave an angry bark of laughter. “What does that even matter? You just said he thinks I hate him.”

“Wow. Talk about getting in your own way,” she said, fascinated.

“Are you just fishing for drama or something?” said Dabi.

“I just think it’s way weird that you’re all honest about other people’s issues but like, mega bad at addressing yours,” said Camie.

“(bleep)?” said Dabi.

“Yeah! Real cringe,” said Camie. “If you want it to change then just, like, do something about it, right? Super easy.”

“What about this is easy?” Dabi snapped.

“Use your words?” said Camie. “Like, hey Hawks, you’re a certified hottie, no cap.”

“There is no way I’m saying that,” said Dabi.

“Your choice,” said Camie. “Be salty all you want. But like, if you don’t say something, it’s never going to change, right? Is that really cool with you?” Dabi didn’t answer right away. She stood up and stretched. “I’m getting more booze. Laters!”

“Huh,” said Natsuo. “I… did not expect that kind of sense from her.”

“She’s a lot smarter than she sounds,” Fuyumi chuckled. “I really hope he takes her advice.”

He did.

“Hey. You want a rose?”

What a lame line!

“Really?” Natsuo muttered, half elated, half exasperated. “You had a shouting match earlier and your first words after it are hey want a rose?”

“I-I think it’s beautiful!” Fuyumi was choking on tears again. “He— Touya— Dabi’s really— At last!”

Hawks didn’t seem to mind the wording either. A smile spread slow but radient over his face, and just as casually he replied, “yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“Cool.”

And that was it.

The other competitors lost their minds. Confessional clips kept splicing into the scene, some contestants punching the air, some of them jumping for joy, all of them screaming in various high pitches. All were triumphant except Takahiro; clearly everyone had been waiting on them to figure it out.

“Operation Hotwings is a success!” Tatami cheered. “They had us worried for a while, but it’s a success!”

“Like, finally,” said Camie, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “They were, like, killing me on The Bachelorette.”

The cameras actually switched to the host just outside the ceremony room, beaming wider than any of the others. “I’m not supposed to have opinions on these things! It would be wrong of me to accidentally steer anyone into a relationship or make them feel as if they have to stay.” He dabbed at his eyes with a choked laugh. “But I am very happy they found each other. Oh, goodness. Does anyone have a handkerchief?”

Yes, all the competitors partied hard in the aftermath, with Hotwings confirmed and Zookeeper ousted… And Dabi and Hawks slipped away to a darker corner to talk. It was more candid footage, taken from further away so it seemed more like eavesdropping, but the audio came through clear this time.

“My life has always worked in a cycle of hope, embarrassment, and disappointment,” Dabi said at last. “There isn’t a single goal I’ve undertaken, or a relationship I’ve been involved with, that hasn’t followed that trend.”

They watched in silence, all three siblings unconsciously leaning forward in suspense as Dabi spilled his insecurities. Because this was his life in a nutshell since leaving them… and honestly, it had been his life before Sekoto Hill, too. Constant disappointment. Pretty lies from other people who never followed through on finding him a new place in the world than the one he’d been denied. The pervasive idea that something was deeply wrong with him. Not all of it was shared—the footage was cut up a little, as if some particularly secret parts had been omitted—but what remained was still achingly vulnerable. Hawks moved in, teasing but receptive, and there was that confession they’d been expecting.

“You like me?”

“I do. And you like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then even if you don’t fully believe it yet, I’m glad you decided to try. I’ll do my best to convince you.”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” Fuyumi was saying under her breath, and groaned when they did not.

The lovebirds hugged. But judging by the raw expression Dabi was wearing and the way he buried his face in Hawks’ shoulder, that was the right choice. In a voiceover the host cheered, “Like all of you, I’ll be thrilled to see how the future unfolds for our couples! From Paradise, good night!”

The episode ended. The post-credit scene included several of the men trying to use boogie boards in the shallows and failing miserably. Tsutsutaka complained loudly about getting saltwater up his nose.

“…So they’re together-together now?” said Shouto. “Where they weren’t before, somehow?”

“Yes! Dabi is— Touya is—” Fuyumi’s excitement faltered. “How have you been referring to him?”

“Dabi, since that’s what everyone else calls him right now. Also because we don’t know if he’d want to use Touya anymore,” said Shouto.

And the new, obvious fact that there was some kidnapper out there who’d targeted Touya Todoroki once before.

“Oh, good, then I’ll stick to that,” she sighed. “I’m so glad it worked out for him! I’ve been watching Team Hotwings this whole time and hearing from Rumi how much Hawks adores him… I’m so glad that when Dabi fell for someone he did it with a person who loves and respects him so much! It’s perfect! So exciting! Ooh, I don’t even know what to do with myself! I know, I’ll make a snack! Stay right here, I’ll be back.”

She leapt up from the couch and rushed to the kitchen. Natsuo and Shouto shared an uneasy glance.

“I know she was into Team Hotwings earlier, but that seemed a little… much,” said Natsuo.

“She’s overcompensating,” said Shouto.

“Do you think it’s… like, second guessing Dabi being Touya again?”

Shouto looked pensive. “Endeavor and All Might both said his death was forged. They are both reliable sources. But a reliable source didn’t always mean much to me, either.”

No, that didn’t sound right. Shouto had been rebellious for years, but Fuyumi was more the type to go with the flow, redirecting and reevaluating things easily. She wouldn’t doubt that kind of news from Endeavor.

“Maybe she feels like she has to be extra supportive of the idea now that it’s proved?” he guessed. “Like, trying to keep up but also gratify us for holding onto the belief in the first place?”

Shouto frowned. “I don’t need to be gratified.”

“Yeah, but she might feel like she has to make up for yelling at us about it before and double down—”

“I don’t want her to gratify us.”

“Neither do I,” Natsuo sighed. “Look, I— Let me go and talk to her alone for a second. That first and biggest time she blew up it was at me, during my watch party, so the root has to be in there somewhere. You come up with something to cheer her up when I bring her back in here.”

Shouto gave a determined nod and picked up his cell phone. “Uraraka says cat videos fix everything. I’ll ask my classmates for the best ones.”

“Do you crowdsource all your memes?” said Natsuo.

“It works,” said Shouto, already typing away.

Natsuo shook his head in wonder and made for the kitchen, somewhat dreading what he might find. It all looked normal at first glance. Fuyumi had her back to him, busy cutting up apples.

“Yumi? You okay?”

“I’m great!” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her work. “Our brother is alive! It’s something I never even dared to dream! And of all places, he’s on TV pursuing love on a beach!”

“…Yeah…”

“And I didn’t recognize him, or maybe I did, but I just didn’t want to because that might— Ah, but who am I kidding? There’s no way this can end but happily! Everything is fine! Really, really fine!”

She kept on chopping. The plate was overflowing, but she still reached mechanically for another apple.

“Fuyumi? Please?”

The knife stopped. Very carefully, Fuyumi set it aside. She rested her hands on the counter, and little spirals of frost crept out from under her shaking fingers. When she spoke again it was barely audible.

“If our brother is alive, that means he’s been alive for years. This whole time, he’s been out there, and able to be helped. How can I live with myself, knowing that I didn’t?”

Oh, no.

“Don’t,” said Natsuo, stepping closer to her. “Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t know he was alive. None of us did.”

“But you figured it out.” She lifted her glasses to rub at her eyes. “Who’s to say I couldn’t, if I’d just paid more attention? Maybe he wanted us to find him, and he was hurt that we didn’t. We didn’t try. We just listened to—to a lie, and the whole time he’s been— This is what Dad wanted to tell us, isn’t it? But he won’t say it until he knows for sure what’s going on, so he doesn’t give us false hope. But it’s a real possibility, otherwise he’d never even pretend it was— It doesn’t feel real, though. Isn’t this all too good to be true? Him alive, and on a romance show that all of us are watching, only a few common friends away from us, just out of the blue, and— How?”

“I don’t know, and I’m a little scared to question it,” said Natsuo.

“But I have to,” said Fuyumi. “Nothing is ever this easy! This is— If it’s true, it’s going to fall apart again, isn’t it? Something’s going to go wrong.”

“We don’t know that for—”

“If it wasn’t his choice to leave, why didn’t he come back?” said Fuyumi. “Natsu, what if he can’t? What if something’s— I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone would’ve taken him in the first place! What if that thing is still out there? What if he—”

She was shaking badly again, and Natsuo wrapped her up in another hug. She clung on gratefully, like she didn’t really want to be standing on her own power anymore.

“If something’s wrong, we’ll figure it out,” Natsuo said firmly. “We’ll keep investigating. But you heard him on the show. He wants to come to graduation. He does still think of us as family. He does want to see us again. We just have to clear the way for him. Right?”

“Right,” she said weakly. “I’m sorry. I just want him to be okay.”

“We all do,” said Natsuo. “You know you don’t have to be all there immediately, right? Shouto and I puzzled our way into it. It was gradual for us. You’ve just been thrown in. It’s a lot to process. Take your time. He’s in our reach, but it’s not like we’re going to have lunch with him tomorrow. You have time.”

“Okay,” said Fuyumi, and closed her eyes with a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

Shigaraki let out a catastrophic sneeze.

Twice shrieked with laughter. “Someone must be talking about you, Shiggy! Who’d bother?”

“Whoever they are, they must be having quite the lengthy conversation about you. That’s the fifth sneeze in as many minutes,” said Compress, producing a handkerchief from his sleeve like a particularly blasé magic act.

Shigaraki snatched the handkerchief and blew his nose. “It’s annoying as f*ck.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a cold?” said Magne, concerned. “It’s been raining pretty hard…”

“I am not fragile,” said Shigaraki, throwing a glare at the window in front of them. The rain was indeed coming down in torrents against the glass. “Shut up and eat your food.”

Tonight had them planning their next move in a convenience store near the outskirts of Osaka. It was one of those larger stores with a counter for customers to eat their store-bought bentos and a TV overhead that should’ve been running approved commercials, but it was a slow gloomy day and the cashier had been daring enough to connect it to actual TV. It was playing Bachelor in Paradise with subtitles. Shigaraki could only thank whatever higher power that the cashier hadn’t figured out how to connect the speakers properly. The League had become very used to the quick, cheap stops inside convenience stores, and had gotten a knack for guessing which ones had little eating areas like this. What had once been a treat was now the boring day-to-day. They didn’t have time for any proper sit-down meals otherwise.

The League had been on the move for months following Overhaul’s attack on the bar.

Shigaraki was well used to the nomadic lifestyle— after breaking out of Ujiko’s lab, he, Dabi, and Kurogiri had used warp gates to travel the length of Japan, never in the same place for more than a few days. They were everywhere and nowhere. Untraceable. It was deeply unpleasant to be back to it, but Shigaraki covered up that grief with spite.

It helped that this time, he wasn’t a little boy still crying for his mother and clinging to any hand in reach; they weren’t on the move to hide.

They were on the move to kick ass.

After they’d escaped Overhaul’s clutches, made sure Dabi didn’t moronically put himself in the line of fire, and found somewhere safe to lick their wounds, Compress had brought up a very good point:

Giran was too valuable to kill.

As an information broker, and one of the foremost of such in the underground near Yokohama, Giran had his fingers in many pies and friends in many varying places. He made deals with heroes, vigilantes, and villains, and while he would sneer and play the part of a man unconcerned with others, he would pick people up and get them back on their feet (future investments, he’d claim) and never backstabbed any client who hadn’t backstabbed him first or wasn’t a downright liability. He was smart. He built loyalty. Half the slums were in debt to him in one form or another. To murder him was to turn literal hundreds of unhinged people into your enemies.

Overhaul is patient and intelligent. Why be so quick about killing Giran when he knew so much? Compress had said. Even if you were to ignore us and the Nomu factory issue, as well-connected as Overhaul was once, he was inside Tartarus and his usual network is destroyed. He needs the kind of information Giran can provide. Why lose that? Why sacrifice the influence he could gain over all the people in Giran’s pocket? He needs to rebuild his power and Giran could very well be his ticket to doing so.

So. A curse. A blessing. Giran was valuable.

He might still be alive.

Kurogiri reached out to Giran’s contacts, Compress reached out to his own, and they quickly amassed enough information to create a clear picture: Overhaul was meant to be in Tartarus. He had been, at least for a few months. Then, without so much as a whisper, he was out on the streets and on the move again. There was no paperwork to say he’d been released, but more telling, there was no paperwork to say he was missing. Rumors of Tartarus’ conditions ran all over the underworld, entertainment and warning in the same tale; everyone knew that a villain as strong as Overhaul shouldn’t have been able to move a finger without Tartarus’ guards descending on him. It was impossible for his escape to go unnoticed. Therefore, it was sanctioned. With no trail about a release and no belligerence from the guards, that made it obvious this sanction came from the H.P.S.C. itself.

The H.P.S.C. had commissioned the Nomu project in the first place. Of course they’d be interested in restarting it, and of course they weren’t above making deals with devils for it. They already had, on numerous occasions before. For his part Overhaul was infamous for developing quirk-erasing bullets, so he’d at least be interested in the part of the process that involved removing a quirk before transferring the power into a Nomu. He’d stick with the H.P.S.C. for his own goals, and they would treasure him as the perfect blend of brutality and intelligence to carry out all their bloody orders.

With the Shie Hassaikai disbanded and imprisoned, and his usual strongholds evicted and under watch, Overhaul likely made his hideout in one of the H.P.S.C. locations. And wasn’t that a wonderful idea? Like, oh, some guy with a beak mask just walked out of a Commission office. But it can’t be a villain because no villain would be allowed in and out of a Commission office in broad daylight! Hiding in plain sight. f*ck that.

As a result, the League had been raiding H.P.S.C. offices.

The longer time passed the lower the likelihood of Giran’s survival, but they refused to consider the alternative.

“Which site are we hitting next?” Shigaraki asked.

Compress had unfolded a large map marked in red where the H.P.S.C. had its larger, more secretive offices. The ones with stars were known assassin bases. Anything marked off in green was out of their hands; heroes were gaining steam in their coup and storming some of these offices themselves, and the last thing the League wanted to do was wind up in the middle of one of those. It was better to target what they hadn’t identified. Their contact network was keeping a close eye on the heroes to see if they located Giran, but no luck so far.

“I’m thinking this one,” said Compress, pointing at a marker near Hiroshima. “Some of Giran’s friends sent along details about one of the Shie Hassaikai’s Eight Bullets being seen around there.”

“If Giran’s alive, they’d definitely have someone like that guarding him,” Magne muttered, brow furrowed.

Spinner tried to say something dramatic to fit in, but had his mouth full of rice ball so it made absolutely no sense.

Shigaraki sneered. “At least chew first. God, you’re embarrassing.”

Spinner choked it down, banged a fist on the table, and said heatedly, “If anyone here is embarrassing it’s you! What’s with that getup?”

“What?” said Shigaraki, offended. “It’s a suit, I’m supposed to be one of those f*cking salarymen that nobody pays attention to—"

“With that hair?”

“Big words from you, pink hair! How are you in any way incognito?”

“It’s styled differently! Twice didn’t even recognize me!”

They all glanced at Twice and winced, because this was not the reassurance he wanted it to be. Twice’s disguise was a grubby paper bag pulled over his head with a smiley face drawn on it. When he noticed their attention he gave them all a thumbs up.

“It’s super convincing! So ugly I want to die!”

“Toga, tell him he looks awful,” said Shigaraki.

Toga did not reply. She was looking at the TV, chopsticks paused halfway to her open mouth. She’d been in that pose long enough for what ramen she’d caught to splash back into the cup.

Shigaraki elbowed her. “Toga.”

She dropped her chopsticks and blinked at him. “What? I’m paying attention.”

“You are not,” Shigaraki snapped. “You’re watching TV! Why are you even bothering? We all know how it’s going to go! Dabi and Hawks are going to dance around each other and be stupid as all hell and it’ll be over without any kind of change! Your stupid Team Hotwings is never going to happen.”

“They are too! Look, a bunch of other contestants are planning to get them together!” said Toga.

“I have zero faith in them,” said Shigaraki.

“Magne, tell them—"

Magne winced. “You know I’d love it just as much as you would if Team Hotwings got together, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for tonight, honey. Tatami and Fuwa have their work cut out for them.”

“You just say that because all you want to do is work on this stupid plan!” Toga puffed out her cheeks in a pout. “I’m sick and tired of looking at all your dumb maps! I’m going to get dessert!” She hopped off her stool and stormed away into the aisles.

“Hey, get back here!” said Shigaraki, twisting to follow. “We need your dumb—”

Kurogiri rested a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Let her go,” he said tiredly. “We’ve been working on little else for months, with no sign of getting closer to wherever Giran’s being held. She’s only in high school. It’s understandable for her to feel burned out.”

Shigaraki turned back, muttering darkly. He’d been much younger than high school when he, Kurogiri, and Dabi had spend months on the run. He hadn’t complained back then! He’d handled it perfectly fine!

“We can give her the plan once we’ve got it figured out,” said Magne. “Mister Compress, will this new site be one where we could use—"

“Mera’s blood? Of course,” said Compress.

By some strange windfall they’d come across the commission worker Mera during one of their raids, and while he seemed to have very little ambition or energy, he also had clearance everywhere. Having Toga masquerade in his image was like using a master key for even the most top-secret offices. It made break-ins significantly easier.

“Don’t rely on it,” Shigaraki warned. “We used his blood three times already. The Commission might already be getting wise. Besides, we don’t want to use it all up only to need it later.”

“But if we don’t use it and they end up changing their security—”

“Better to not be using it and not landing Toga in any traps, then.”

“What are the others we’ve got blood for? We can see if any others line up to do the job…”

They pored over the lists they’d come up with, arguing and restructuring their approach. At one point Shigaraki looked up to roll his eyes, and froze.

“Put away the map.”

“What?” said Spinner.

“I said put away the f*cking map, we have incoming.”

Because there were four people coming in from the rain, and their leader was instantly recognizable.

“Do we have time to get out? Is there a back door or something?” Spinner hissed, as Compress hurriedly folded and stowed the map.

“Not one we could reach without him seeing us!”

“Don’t run. Just act like you belong, and maybe he’ll ignore us. Look at that pipsqueak he’s got tagging along, there’s no way he’s actually out to arrest anybody with that in tow! This has to be a snack run!”

“Act natural! We’re going to die!”

“Toga, get back here! Toga!”

They went silent as the doors opened with a chime. In stepped Pro Hero Sir Nighteye. He was tall, spindly, severe, dressed in a suit like the Commission pencil pushers, and Shigaraki immediately disliked him. Nighteye collapsed his umbrella with great purpose—how the f*ck did someone even manage that—and prowled into the store with three sidekicks behind him.

Twice gripped his bag-mask with both hands, tight enough it started to tear. Spinner pulled down his baseball cap. Shigaraki adjusted his mask. They all sat tense and silent.

Nighteye paused right behind them. His sidekicks were tense too, like a fight might break out any second. Had they come here for the League? Was Sir Nighteye in with the corrupt H.P.S.C.?

“Bubble Girl,” said Sir Nighteye.

The blue sidekick startled. “Y-yes, sir?”

“What is Team Hotwings?”

…What the f*ck?

Shigaraki looked back at him in incredulity. Bubble Girl was also thrown off, but recovered fast.

“Ah, that’s used to refer to the relationship between contestants Dabi and Hawks on The Bachelorette and now Bachelor in Paradise. It originated during a group date on The Bachelorette where the two were paired together and Hawks treated it as a hero team-up. Fans quickly adopted the name and it’s used heavily in Bachelor Nation discussions. There is a, ah, large community of fans that utilize it as a ‘ship’ name since they enjoy the idea of the two of them being in a romantic relationship.”

Sir Nighteye nodded slowly. “Ah. So, canon in that sense.”

Magne had been trying to take a sneaky drink of beer and immediately choked on it.

“What?” came a shriek from the pastry aisle, and Toga burst back into view. “Hotwings? Canon? What?”

Bubble Girl was in no better state; she threw propriety to the wind to grab at her boss’ arm and demand, “Sir! Did you see that in a vision? Was it your quirk? Did you see them become canon with Foresight?” The man didn’t even have time to open his mouth before she was flinging herself away again, covering her face in distress. “Wait, no! Don’t tell me! I don’t want it spoiled! But if they did— If it just— Oh my god!”

Toga lunged for the checkout counter, where the cashier had been watching all of this in shock.

“Turn on the audio for the TV! You’re into it too, right? We have to see it!”

And the cashier was clearly a crazy Bachelor fan too, because she gave a determined nod and cried, “Right! I don’t know how but I’ll make it work!”

“Let me see it!” said Bubble Girl, rushing over too. “I’m good with technology!”

“This isn’t really happening, is it?” Spinner muttered.

“This is a nightmare,” said Shigaraki. “There’s no way this is reality.”

The green pipsqueak of a sidekick stifled nervous laughter, but the bigger, blonder one laughed without any heed for shame.

“It’s amazing how Bachelor Nation brings people together!”

…Did Sir Nighteye’s agency make time to watch Bachelor in Paradise together? The idea had Shigaraki grimacing, and it shouldn’t be visible through his mask but that blond kid just laughed harder. Sir Nighteye adjusted his glasses so the fluorescents caught on them in a glare, and surveyed the group at the table. That made Shigaraki even more annoyed, so he stood up and growled, “What are you looking at?”

Sir Nighteye’s gaze shifted to him, clearly identifying him as the leader. “Am I correct in my belief that you are called Tomura Shigaraki?”

f*ck everything.

“Who’s asking?” said Shigaraki.

“I am Sir Nighteye, a pro hero,” said Nighteye, as if it had been a genuine question. “I specialize in investigation, and am currently working on a case I believe you and your band, the so-called ‘League of Villains,’ have been caught up in against your will. It was my intention to locate you and ensure your safety.”

Shigaraki’s lip curled. “Our safety, huh? You mean like those other H.P.S.C. agents were concerned for our safety? We don’t need your help.”

“No, considering how effective you are at evading all pursuers, that is believable. But your technique is not infallible. Otherwise, how would I be here?” Sir Nighteye challenged.

Kurogiri also rose from his seat, more cautious. “Please excuse me, Sir Nighteye, but we have done nothing wrong. We decline any offer of ‘safety,’ so there isn’t any further need for you to be here. Please leave us be.”

It was a bluff, and a bad one; while they’d done nothing wrong, they’d done plenty of illegal sh*t—Kurogiri’s quirk use alone could get him locked in jail—and if Sir Nighteye was already investigating them he’d know it. All Might’s old sidekick wouldn’t be an easy foe to get around, teleport quirk or no teleport quirk.

Sir Nighteye folded his arms over his chest. “In that case, my intention is to accompany you.”

“To what,” said Shigaraki.

“I am not fool enough to think I can keep you when Mr. Kurogiri’s quirk can so readily make you disappear again,” said Sir Nighteye. “But it would be remiss of me to simply allow you to go without protection. I believe that what you seek and the goals of my investigation are the same. It would be faster and safer for all parties to cooperate.”

“And just what are your goals?” said Shigaraki.

“To uncover evidence of the H.P.S.C.’s many crimes against the public and their employees, to prevent them from causing further damage, to unseat them from power, to recover all those they kept under their thumb, the arrest of all villains they had released from Tartarus to serve their purposes, to dismantle once and for all the Nomu program, and to retrieve the information broker Giran alive and intact.”

For a moment Shigaraki forgot to breathe. “You know the H.P.S.C. is linked to the Nomu?”

“I am aware,” said Sir Nighteye, as if the mere mention put a foul taste in his mouth. “I suspect even you did not know of the extent of their depravity there. The number of victims is staggering, and still growing. Such a project cannot be allowed to be revived. Overhaul and the H.P.S.C. must be brought to justice. Does this not align with your own goals?”

Shigaraki was mentally reeling. What, some bigshot hero thought he could waltz in and declare and alliance and get what he wanted without a fight? As if! But… if he were true, and if he had so much more information and reach to find Giran…

“I don’t trust you,” Shigaraki growled.

“I take that as a sign of your intelligence rather than a slight against myself,” said Sir Nighteye. “It would be foolhardy to accept such an offer from any stranger, let alone one employed by your enemy. I won’t ask you to make a choice right away.” With a flourish he produced a business card and held it out. “Please take your time and contact me once you have come to a decision. My preference would be to work in close contact with you as a team, but if you prefer to keep your distance that will also be suitable; I would request regular check-ins from you and exchanges of information, but would be willing to take action at your request regardless.”

Dumbly, Shigaraki accepted the card. It was clear and no-nonsense, just like its owner.

It was at this point that the speakers overhead crackled, and rather than the generic pop music it had been running for the ambiance, it switched over to the TV audio. Loud and clear, they heard Hawks’ voice go, “You think I’m hot?”

“Is that all you got out of that?” Dabi’s voice replied. “Yes, you’re hot! That was never in question!”

“What?” cried Magne, so delighted she jumped out of her seat.

“He said it! He said it!” screamed Toga, seizing Bubble Girl by the shoulders and shaking her. “He said Hawks was hot!”

This emptied everyone’s brains. It didn’t matter that there was a f*cking pro hero in front of them who’d been f*cking tracking them, the League abandoned all caution to scramble to a better position to see the TV. Insult to injury, the two other sidekicks did the same.

“No way! He probably said it as if it were obvious instead of being his opinion!” said Compress.

“Dabi’s way too emotionally constipated to admit he thinks anyone is hot!” said Spinner.

“I questioned whether you thought I was hot,” said the Hawks onscreen, way too close to a Dabi who was looking way too shy for any of this to be real, what the f*ck. “I—I think I fell for you on night one of The Bachelorette.”

Everyone gasped.

“You did the smolder and I forgot everything else that was happening in that room. I thought you were just really, really good at the smolder—”

Of course he’d been good at the smolder, the League had trained him in the smolder without mercy! It had been the one appeal he’d managed to pull off!

“—but then you were really good at everything else, too—”

In what reality? Dabi was an oblivious jackass!

“—I didn’t think there was a way to sexily pick up a rice bowl, but you did it—”

That wasn’t a thing! There was no sexy way to pick up a rice bowl! It was impossible!

“—And finally I realized, wow! I was just down bad and really terrible at recognizing it!”

That at least was believable!!!!

“Yesterday when I was trying to get you alone and off the microphones to explain where I was coming from… it was supposed to be a leadup to confessing to you—”

There was a confession before this???

“I’m really glad you gave me this rose tonight.”

DABI DID WHAT NOW??????

f*cking hell, Shigaraki missed one f*cking episode and this sh*t happened?!

“You like me?”

“I do. And you like me?”

“Yeah.”

Anything else was drowned out by screaming.

“They said it! They really said it! Overly clearly and everything, there’s no way to misunderstand it again!” said Magne, openly weeping.

“Yes! Yes! Dabi’s finally got his man!” said Twice, jumping up and down. “Took him long enough!”

“I wondered if it would ever happen!” said the green pipsqueak, looking downright awed.

“Canon at last!” Compress laughed.

Toga, Bubble Girl, and the cashier couldn’t form any words; they wrapped each other up in a bear hug despite all being strangers and sank to the floor in a joyful, blubbering mess.

Sir Nighteye adjusted his glasses again. “Hm. Canon.”

Shigaraki gaped at him.

He was pretty sure that he’d tempted fate with the chili lime shrimp flavored ramen and sank into a fever dream. None of this was real. This was not a pro hero in front of him! The League wasn’t cheering with strangers! Dabi was not asking out another pro hero on national television! It was all just too much!

“No more ramen,” he said to himself, shoving the business card into his pocket. “Vegetables. I’m going to eat more f*cking vegetables.”