The hallway was silent—too silent. The Todoroki house always felt cold, but tonight the cold seemed heavy, suffocating, like it was pressing against Y/N's skin.
Her hands trembled as she shoved clothes into her backpack. The pain in her legs throbbed—sharp, electric jolts—but she pushed through it. She didn't have the luxury of stopping. Not tonight.
A hair tie snapped between her fingers as she tried to drag her dyed-purple hair into a loose ponytail. The messiness didn't matter. Freedom mattered.
A quiet knock came at her door.
Not Endeavor's.
Not Shoto's.
Not her mother's—it was too gentle.
"Y/N?" Shoto's voice, soft, worried.
"Are you okay? I heard—" He paused. "You're... packing?"
She didn't turn around. If she saw his eyes, she'd fold.
"You can't leave alone," he whispered.
"I'm not alone," she lied, her voice wavering. "I'm just... not yours to fix."
Silence. Then the sound of him taking a shaky breath.
Y/N swallowed. "Someday."
She moved past him, gripping her cane as she limped down the hall. Shoto watched but didn't call for their father. He didn't try to stop her.
He knew why she had to go.
The front door closed quietly behind her.
The street was dim, washed in orange from the flickering streetlamps. Each step sent pain up her legs, but she refused to stop. Not when she finally had a chance at escape. Not when staying meant letting Endeavor destroy what was left of her.
Her breathing hitched. A panic attack wavered at the edges of her mind—her chest tightening, vision blurring.
A sudden voice cut through the quiet.
A figure stepped out from behind an alleyway, blue fire flickering briefly around him before fading into black smoke. His silhouette was jagged, familiar, impossible.
Her cane slipped from her hand.
The cracked, scorched skin around his eyes tightened. The staples glinted in the low light. His voice, when he spoke again, was rough—like he hadn't used it in years.
"No one calls me that anymore."
Her breath hitched. "Dabi..."
He blinked slowly—then something broke in his expression. His shoulders dropped, and the cold villain façade faltered.
He crossed the distance between them in a few steps.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, though the warning held no real edge. "What did he do now?"
"What he always does," she whispered.
Dabi's jaw clenched, fury sparking behind his mismatched eyes. "Did he hurt you?"
A bitter laugh escaped her. "Not tonight. Just... every day before that."
She swayed. The pain in her legs surged—too much, too fast.
Dabi caught her before she fell.
For a moment, no League, no violence, no past—just two broken siblings in the dark.
"You left," she whispered back.
His grip tightened. "Yeah. And I'm not letting you do this alone."
Y/N pressed her forehead to his shoulder, tears pooling in her amber eyes. "I... I didn't know where else to go."
"You came to the right place." Dabi shifted her weight carefully, supporting her with surprising gentleness. "Come on. I'll take you somewhere Endeavor will never touch you again."
"You'll see," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "The League's gonna like you."
Y/N laughed weakly, exhausted. "You don't even know that."
"I know you're a Todoroki," Dabi replied. "And that's already chaos enough."
For the first time in years, she didn't feel trapped.
Didn't feel alone.
Didn't feel like a mistake.
The shadows curled gently at her feet, responding to her emotions—not to fear, but to relief.
Dabi noticed and smirked. "There's the little witch."
"Shut up," she mumbled, but the smile in her voice was unmistakable.
"Let's go home," Dabi said.
And for once, the word home didn't hurt.
The old bar smelled like dust, smoke, and something faintly metallic—like spilled blood that had been cleaned, but not well enough. The flickering neon sign outside buzzed loudly, casting harsh purple light through the cracked windows.
Dabi pushed the door open with his shoulder, keeping one arm securely around Y/N's waist. She was exhausted, leaning heavily on him, her legs trembling from the long walk and lingering pain. Her cane clicked unevenly across the wooden floor as they stepped inside.
Four pairs of eyes snapped toward them.
Tomura Shigaraki, slouched over the bar counter, straightened like a startled animal. His red eyes locked on Y/N instantly.
Kurogiri's mist swirled calmly behind the counter, though his posture tightened.
Toga bounced in place, eyes wide and predatory with excitement.
And twice, mid-conversation with himself, froze mid-sentence.
The tension thickened. Y/N instinctively curled darkness around her ankles—not aggressively, just protectively.
Dabi noticed and smirked. "Relax, kid. They're weird, but they won't bite."
He paused. "...well, Toga might."
"I only bite cute people," Toga chirped, skipping forward. "And ohhh—she's cute! Look at her hair! And her pretty eyes! And—oh! Her blood must be so interesting!"
"Back off, Toga." Dabi shifted Y/N behind him.
Toga pouted dramatically. "Daaabi, you're so selfish!"
Tomura tilted his head, studying Y/N with slow, calculated curiosity. "You brought home a stray? You don't bring home strays."
"She's not a stray," Dabi said sharply. "She's with me."
Shigaraki's eyes narrowed. "With you?" he echoed. "As in... your sister?"
A ripple of shock moved through the room.
Twice gasped so hard his mask flapped.
"Sister?! You didn't tell us you had a sister!"
"I told them you weren't a family person!" his other voice yelled.
Y/N stood straighter, fingers tightening around her cane. "I can introduce myself."
Shigaraki blinked in surprise at her firmness.
"My name is Y/N Todoroki," she said, voice steady despite her exhaustion. "I left home tonight. I'm... not going back."
Toga gasped. "Wait... Todoroki, like hero-Fire Man's daughter? And Shoto's twin?" She clapped wildly. "This is the BEST DAY EVER!"
Shigaraki rubbed the back of his neck, disinterested but assessing. "What's your quirk?"
Y/N hesitated only a second. Shadows curled gently around her wrist like a pet. "Dark Magic. I can manipulate and solidify shadows. Illusions, constructs, concealment, and—"
"We get it," Shigaraki cut in. "You're useful."
Her heart dropped a little at the bluntness—until Dabi spoke.
"She's not here to be 'useful.' She's here because she needs a place to breathe."
It startled her. The softness behind his harsh tone. The protectiveness.
Shigaraki stared at Dabi for a long moment, then looked back at Y/N.
"Well," he finally said, shrugging, "everyone here is broken somehow. You'll fit right in."
Kurogiri floated forward, his mist swirling politely. "Would you like to sit? You look fatigued."
Y/N swallowed hard, gratitude swelling. "Yes... please."
Dabi helped her into a seat, and she exhaled shakily—relief washing over her as she finally relaxed.
Twice hovered beside her. "Do you like tea? You look like a tea person."
"No, she looks like a coffee person!" his double argued.
"LET HER DECIDE!"
Y/N laughed—soft and unsteady, but real.
Toga plopped onto the stool beside her, leaning in close. "We're gonna be best friends. I can feel it."
Dabi grabbed her collar and yanked her back an inch. "Space. Now."
Shigaraki sighed dramatically. "Great. Another sibling dynamic to deal with."
But despite his tone, there was no hostility—only curiosity, and maybe a hint of acceptance.
Y/N looked around the room, her heart pounding. Not from fear—something else. Something unfamiliar.
For the first time in years... she didn't feel like she had to apologize for existing.
Dabi nudged her shoulder gently. "Welcome to the League, little witch."
The shadows around Y/N curled warmly, almost like they were smiling.
