….

  Ten Months Later.

  ….

  The past ten months had been brutal for Izuku Midoriya.

  Every morning at 5 AM, Dabi would be waiting at Dagobah Beach.

  Whether the sky was hemorrhaging rain or a typhoon was churning the coastline, the schedule was absolute.

  A sixty-second dey in arrival resulted in an additional hour of training.

  Despite his easygoing appearance, Dabi was a silent, unrelenting spectre of discipline, which is something Izuku learned quite early into his training.

  Mastering [Total Concentration Breathing] had been hell.

  "Deeper, Midoriya. You are breathing like a civilian." Dabi would rasp, his eyes glowing with an analytical coldness as he watched the boy struggle with a rusted refrigerator.

  "Your lungs can hold roughly six liters, so use all of it and draw the oxygen down until it floods your capilries and your blood feels like liquid fire."

  He forced him to hold his breath while sprinting through the sand, pushing his brain into a state of hypercapnia to force his nervous system to adapt to low-oxygen environments.

  "This isn't a technique you 'activate.'" Dabi expined, standing over a trembling Midoriya in the eighth month.

  "It is a manual override of your autonomic nervous system. It has to become as instinctive as your pulse. If you have to think about it, you are already too slow."

  By month three, Midoriya could maintain the breathing technique for several hours straight.

  By month six, he could use it reflexively during physical activity.

  By month ten, the transformation was visceral. The scrawny, trembling boy had been repced by a young man with dense muscle fibers and a resting heart rate that would baffle a cardiologist.

  Dabi had also addressed the boy's greatest weakness: his reflexive paralysis in front of real danger.

  In controlled, high-intensity sparring, Dabi moved with terrifying efficiency.

  He forced Midoriya to maintain Total Concentration while dodging blue-fme-heated strikes.

  Quite literally, he beat the hesitation out of the boy's soul.

  As the morning of the Entrance Exam was just a day away, Midoriya stood atop the now-clean beach, his chest rising and falling in a deep, resonant cadence.

  He wasn't the master Dabi was - he couldn't maintain the 'constant' in his sleep - but he could sustain it through the most grueling physical combat.

  But it was enough. More than enough, actually.

  Dabi wasn't sure if Midoriya could score points in the entrance exam without using One For All's power. The robots were designed to be challenging even for quirk users.

  But at the very least, the kid wouldn't be standing on shaky legs, terrified of tin cans.

  There was something else Dabi was curious about though.

  How would Midoriya control One For All after learning the "[Total Concentration Breathing] technique?

  Because breathing technique was fundamentally about body control. Controlling your oxygen intake, your muscle movements, your energy distribution.

  If Midoriya had that foundation before receiving One For All, would it change how he wielded the power?

  Would he have better control from the start?

  Or would it make no difference at all?

  That was something only time would tell.

  ….

  On the day of Inheritance.

  The D-Day.

  –where Izuku Midoriya would inherit One For All and officially begin his journey toward becoming the Pro Hero.

  And Dabi wasn't there.

  He had deliberately chosen not to attend. This was a moment between All Might and his successor. A passing of the torch that had been carried for generations.

  Dabi had no pce at that moment.

  All Might had understood, though he had looked slightly disappointed.

  So instead, Dabi was doing something else entirely.

  Currently, Midoriya was probably at the beach, staring in shock and horror at the single strand of hair All Might had plucked out.

  ….probably freaking out about having to eat it.

  ….probably questioning every life decision that had led to this moment.

  Dabi almost wished he could see the kid's face.

  But he had other priorities today.

  ….

  So what was Dabi doing instead?

  Standing outside a rge, traditional Japanese-style compound with Rumi beside him.

  The Shie Hassaikai Compound. Secret base of the Yakuza, controlled by Kai Chisaki - better known as Overhaul.

  Rumi looked up at the imposing structure, then at Dabi. "So this is the date you were talking about?"

  "Come on, Bunny." Dabi said with a slight smirk. "What's a better date for you than taking out some really strong opponents?"

  Her ears perked up immediately. "There are vilins here?"

  "Yep." Dabi's expression darkened slightly. "And they are doing something that needs to be stopped. Today."

  He had weighed the decision for days - whether to intervene now or allow events to unfold as they once had.

  In the original course of events, Midoriya had grown immensely from his battle with Overhaul. He had pushed One For All to higher percentages, refined his fighting style, saved Eri, and stepped fully into the role of a hero.

  But that growth had come at a cost.

  Eri had endured months more suffering. Sir Nighteye had lost his life. Several heroes had been gravely injured… a person also lost his quirk.

  Midoriya could grow in other ways. There would always be stronger opponents, harsher training, new trials to overcome.

  There was only one Eri, and she was being tortured.

  The decision was made itself.

  Dabi id everything out for Rumi - the Shie Hassaikai's operations, the development of the quirk-destroying drug, and, most importantly, the child they were using to manufacture it.

  Rumi's red eyes bzed even brighter. The whites were actually turning red with fury. "Then what are we waiting for?"

  The compound was completely gated off, requiring someone to buzz in for entry.

  Neither Dabi nor Rumi cared about that.

  Rumi simply kicked the gate off its hinges, sending it flying into the courtyard.

  Dabi vaulted over the wall, blue fmes already dancing around his hands.

  Their dramatic entrance grabbed the attention of everyone inside the compound immediately.

  "Do we have permission for this operation?" Rumi asked as they nded in the courtyard, Yakuza thugs already rushing toward them.

  "No." Dabi admitted. "But that's why I brought the Number 5 Hero with me."

  Rumi grinned, showing teeth. "Thought so."

  She didn't compin. Just unched herself at the nearest group of thugs with devastating kicks that sent them flying.

  Numbers weren't enough to stop them.

  Rumi fought like she always did - aggressive, powerful, relentless. Her rabbit-enhanced legs delivered kicks that cracked concrete and shattered bones. She moved through the Yakuza thugs like a hurricane, leaving unconscious bodies in her wake.

  Dabi took a different approach.

  Long-range fme attacks to control the battlefield. Hand-to-hand combat when enemies got close. Throwing debris and using the environment as weapons.

  He wasn't trying to show off or prove anything - just efficiently neutralizing threats with minimum effort.

  The courtyard was cleared in minutes.

  They moved into the building proper. Ground floor first - decorated to look like a regur Japanese office, but Dabi knew better.

  They encountered one of the Eight Bullets. Toya Setsuno - a blonde guy with a cocky attitude that disappeared quickly when Rumi grabbed him.

  "Where's the girl?" Dabi asked.

  Setsuno spat blood but said nothing.

  "Loyal. I can respect that." Dabi said. Then punched him again. "But I don't have time for it. Where. Is. She."

  Setsuno still wouldn't talk, even after Rumi threatened to break every bone in his body starting with his fingers.

  But he didn't need to talk.

  Dabi found the hidden switch beneath a decorative vase. The wall slid open, revealing stairs descending into darkness.

  "An underground byrinth." Dabi said. "Vilins and their dramatic irs."

  "At least it's not sewers this time." Rumi muttered, following him down.

  The underground network was massive. Multiple passageways stretching for what felt like miles. Rooms for various purposes - storage, meeting spaces, an infirmary.

  And somewhere down here, a little girl was being held prisoner.

  They moved quickly but carefully, taking out guards as they went.

  They encountered resistance, of course, more yakuza members and few of the Eight Bullets - Overhaul's elite enforcers.

  Each fight was brief and brutal.

  Shin Nemoto with his Confession quirk tried to force Dabi to answer questions truthfully. Dabi had simply set him on fire before he could finish asking.

  Kendo Rappa, the battle-junkie with the strongarm quirk, had been excited to fight Rumi. That excitement sted about thirty seconds before she kicked him through three walls.

  Hekiji Tengai's barrier quirk was actually problematic - until Dabi realized barriers didn't do much against superheated air. Cooked him from the inside.

  The Yakuza had numbers, but none of them were prepared for two Pro Heroes - one of them a top-ten ranker - tearing through their base.

  Finally, they found her.

  A reinforced door at the end of a long corridor. Two guards standing outside - not regur thugs. These were higher-ranking members based on their confidence.

  Chronostasis. Overhaul's right-hand man. B-rank vilin.

  Mimic. General manager of the operation. Also B-rank.

  "I will handle them." Rumi said, cracking her knuckles. "You get the girl."

  She didn't wait for a response. Just unched herself at both vilins with a flying kick that forced them to scatter.

  Dabi stepped past the shockwave of impact and drove blue fmes into the door. The metal warped, locked melting under concentrated heat, hinges giving way seconds ter.

  He kicked it open.

  The room beyond was sterile and cramped - a bed bolted to the floor, a metal chair, scattered medical equipment.

  And in the far corner, pressed against the wall, was Eri.

  She was tiny.

  White hair, red eyes, a small horn protruding from the right side of her forehead. Her arms were covered in bandages, and beneath them, Dabi could see the marks of repeated injuries and healing.

  She looked up at him with eyes that had seen too much. No fear in them - just empty resignation.

  A child who had learned that adults only brought pain.

  Dabi was in his Hero suit - dark colors, face partially covered by a mask that left only his eyes visible. To a frightened child, he probably looked terrifying.

  But Eri didn't look afraid.

  Just... tired.

  "Please don't come near…." she said quietly. Her voice was small, defeated. "I don't want to hurt you."

  Behind him, Dabi heard the sounds of Rumi's fight. A crash. A yell. Then a devastating kick that probably sent someone through a wall.

  Rumi had paused for just a second when she heard Eri's words.

  Then her next kick came even harder, fueled by rage at what these people had done to make a child think she was dangerous.

  Dabi knelt down, making himself less imposing. "Don't worry. You can't hurt me. And even if you did–"

  He met her eyes through his mask. "–I have been through worse. Way worse."

  Perhaps it was the calm certainty in his voice, or the quiet resolve in his eyes, the only part of his face she could clearly see, but whatever it was, she recognized the truth in him the moment he spoke.

  "That's sad… I am sorry."

  Eri apologized again, her voice small but sincere, because she sensed that this was someone who understood pain, someone who had endured it and come through it, and who did not recoil from hers.

  "Heh, you don't have to be sorry." Dabi chuckled at the innocence. He then extended his arms. "Actually, I am sorry that you had to go through this…"

  Eri didn't step back. Instead, she jumped forward, small arms wrapping around Dabi's neck.

  "I am so afraid of this pce." she whispered. "Mummy isn't here. It's dark. It's... it's..." She couldn't find the words to express the horror of her captivity.

  "There, there… I am here to take you away from it." Dabi said gently. "And anyone who tries to stop us isn't going to make it out in one piece."

  That's when the temperature in the hallway dropped.

  Dabi stood, carefully lifting Eri with one arm while blue fmes ignited around his other hand.

  A figure emerged from the shadows at the end of the corridor.

  Kai Chisaki. Overhaul himself.

  He wore his signature pgue doctor mask and white gloves. His golden eyes were cold, calcuting, and utterly devoid of human warmth.

  "That's my property you are holding." Overhaul said, his voice clinical. "I will need you to return her. Along with compensation for the damage to my organization."

  Rumi appeared beside Dabi, slightly bloodied but grinning. "Your 'property' just became evidence in a child abuse case. Along with whatever the hell you have been cooking up down here."

  Overhaul's eyes narrowed. "Mirko. The Rabbit Hero. Number 5, if I recall. And you…."

  His gaze shifted to Dabi. "I don't recognize you. Underground Hero?"

  "Does it matter?" Dabi asked, positioning himself to shield Eri.

  "I suppose not. You are both trespassing in a private residence. I have every right to defend my property." Overhaul's gloves came off. "And since you have already seen too much, I am afraid I can't let you leave."

  His quirk activated. The ground beneath them began to spike upward, concrete and earth reshaping itself into deadly weapons.

  Rumi jumped, her powerful legs carrying her clear of the attack.

  Dabi created a wall of blue fme, melting the spikes before they could reach him and Eri.

  "Hold on tight." he told Eri quietly. "This might get rough."

  And the real fight began.

  .

  ….

  [To be continued…]

  ★─────??★??─────★

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