Licensed Villains

Resolve

"How did it feel," he asks, tilting his head, "when you found out who I was? What did you think?"

Silence stretches between them. It suffocating how close they are. He hasn't held eyes with his father for this long since he was young. Then again, back then he didn't look him in the eyes much either. It feels like eons before he answers.

"When you revealed yourself, I only saw a child," Enji spat. Dabi's insides twist. "You still don't understand what it means to be a Todoroki. You're still weak - needing others to save yourself and only confronting me from behind a computer screen."

Dabi clenches his jaw. If he ever had doubts that this man was wrong, they were resolved then.

"I'm confronting you now," he says firmly.

In all those years of suffering, he had always thought Endeavor to be wrong but never weak. He had thought himself to be weak, but never his father. In his eyes, Endeavor was powerful, more than anyone. He was the towering figure that cast it's shadow over Touya, trapping him in the dark. He was the hero where Touya was only ever the muck on his shoe.

But perhaps, it was the other way around; roles reversed. Maybe in that house, facing all that he did, Touya was strong.

Before him, Enji visibly bristled. His brows drew together to form a frown. "Why did you come here if you only are going to argue?"

Dabi is once again reminded of what his friends had said upon him announcing his decision. He recalls their hesitance, and he recalls Izuku's confidence in him; what he'd told him.

I'm happy for you, Dabi. You're not the man you were when I first met you.

What does that have to do with Endeavor? Dabi had asked.

Because when I met you, your plan for him was very different. You gave up that goal for my dreams and while it has made you a better person,  I think it caused you to still have some cavities that only Endeavor can fill. So, if you want to talk with him, I think no one else has the right to stop you.

He remembers the way Izuku's face had broken into a massive smile.

Just remember that in the end, it doesn't matter what he thinks or says. It only matter who you really are - and there's nothing to worry about there.

Dabi stares at the man that once went by his father but never lived up to the title. He stares and he thinks, this isn't for you, it's for me.

"If you were the number one hero when we were young, do you think you would have treated us any different?" he asks. He doesn't stutter on any word, but his mind reels as he voices one of the many questions that had purged his childhood.

Enji meets his eyes. Blue to blue like the Pacific fading into the Atlantic; on different sides of the world yet still meeting in between the cracks of spaces between continents. It could be called a phenomenon. Funny, how even with ocean eyes, the two of them have always burned.

"If I had been the number one hero, you wouldn't be here."

And Endeavor will always just burn.

Dabi stands, the sound of his chair scratching against the floor drawing a flinch out of Endeavor. He brushed down his clothes and turned towards the door. He thinks he heard Endeavor say his name - the one that he refuses to go by - but he draws no attention to it. He keeps moving to the door. The guard pulls it open for him and only when he's standing on the threshold does he stop.

He should say something. He can feel Endeavors eyes on his back, knows he wants him to say one last thing. Goodbye, a defiance, an apology. Anything would be good enough then. Endeavor would get a last word from his firstborn.