Touya Todoroki/ dabi

Touya had spent seven years learning how to become someone worth saving.

You had been there for four of them.

From twenty-four to twenty-eight, you had watched him claw his way out of the grave Dabi had dug for him. Rehabilitation hadn't been pretty. It wasn't some inspirational story where Touya woke up one morning, decided he wanted to be good, and suddenly everyone forgave him.

It had been ugly.

Court hearings. Mandatory therapy. Quirk rehabilitation. Physical therapy for skin that would never properly heal. Endless evaluations determining whether he was still a danger to society. His father's name dragged through the news again. His own crimes replayed over and over until sometimes Touya wondered if there was any point trying to become anything other than the monster everyone already believed he was.

And somehow, you stayed.

You were part of his rehabilitation team at first, one of the few people who could sit across from him without staring at his scars or looking nervous whenever blue fire flickered across his fingertips.

You never treated Dabi like he was all Touya could ever be.

That had been dangerous.

Because somewhere along the way, Touya had fallen completely, hopelessly in love with you.

He couldn't pinpoint when it happened.

Maybe it was the afternoon you brought him coffee after a particularly brutal Commission hearing.

Maybe it was when you snapped at a reporter for calling him Endeavor's failed son.

Maybe it was the first time he made you laugh so hard you had to turn away from him.

Or maybe it had happened slowly, one ordinary moment at a time.

By twenty-eight, Touya had completed his rehabilitation.

He'd reconciled with his siblings as much as anyone in that family could. He had a provisional hero license that eventually became a full one. Somehow, against every prediction ever made about him, Touya became a pro hero.

And you became his best friend.

That should've been enough.

It wasn't.

He wanted everything.

He wanted to wake up beside you. He wanted your shampoo in his shower and your shoes beside his door. He wanted to complain when you stole his shirts while secretly buying bigger ones because he liked seeing you in them. He wanted your hand in his while Shoto looked mildly horrified that someone had willingly chosen his brother.

He wanted to marry you.

Touya just never found the courage to tell you.

Funny.

He had faced heroes without flinching. He'd fought his own father. He'd nearly burned himself alive more times than he could count.

But asking you to dinner?

Terrifying.

And because Touya waited, someone else didn't.

You started dating.

Then came the engagement.

Then the wedding invitation.

Touya attended.

Of course he did.

He smiled for pictures. Drank with your friends. Told you that you looked beautiful because apparently he enjoyed ripping his own heart out.

When you hugged him that night and whispered that you were glad he came, Touya held you a few seconds longer than he should have.

Then he let you go.

It was the greatest mistake of his life.

Seven years later, you were dead.

Thirty-five years old.

Gone.

The official explanation never sat right with him.

An accident.

That was what your husband claimed.

A tragic, sudden accident.

Touya didn't believe a fucking word of it.

Maybe being Dabi had left something rotten inside him. Maybe he was paranoid. Maybe grief had finally cracked whatever pieces of his mind rehabilitation had managed to put back together.

He didn't care.

Something was wrong.

He could feel it.

There had been little things before your death. Things Touya had dismissed because you were married and he had forced himself to respect that boundary. Calls becoming shorter. Plans canceled unexpectedly. The way your smile had changed.

Then you were gone.

And your husband was still breathing.

Touya spent months investigating.

Nothing.

No proof.

Nothing he could take to the police. Nothing the Commission could act on. Nothing that would allow him to drag the bastard into an interrogation room and demand the truth.

Eventually, there was only grief.

It swallowed him.

At thirty-five, Touya had everything twenty-four-year-old Dabi would have laughed at.

A hero license.

A family that spoke to him.

Friends.

A home.

People who trusted him.

A life.

And he would've traded every fucking piece of it for you.

That night, Touya sat alone on the roof of his apartment building.

He stared at the stars. "God."

Nothing.

He laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Figured."

His fingers curled around the edge of the rooftop. "Universe?"

Silence.

Touya swallowed. "Any gods listening? Spirits? Demons? I don't give a shit anymore."

His voice cracked.

He hated that.

"I'll give it all back."

The wind moved softly around him.

"My license. My career. Everything I fixed."

His jaw tightened.

"I'll be Dabi again."

That admission hurt more than he expected.

Because Touya didn't want to be Dabi anymore.

He liked being Touya.

He liked annoying Shoto. He liked getting stupid messages from Natsuo. He liked Fuyumi inviting him to dinner. He liked saving people. He liked knowing that somewhere along the line he'd finally become more than his father's failure and more than the villain he'd created from the ashes.

But you were dead.

So none of it mattered.

"I'll lose my family again if that's what it costs." His eyes burned. "I'll let them hate me."

His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Just send me back."

Something behind him chuckled.

Touya froze.

"That's quite the offer."

He turned.

A man stood several feet away.

Dark suit. Red tie. Expensive shoes that absolutely did not belong on a dusty apartment rooftop.

Touya's flames ignited instantly.

Blue illuminated the darkness.

The stranger looked amused. "Oh, don't bother. Those won't do much."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Crowley."

Touya stared.

Crowley smiled. "King of Hell, occasionally. Demon, consistently."

Touya's flames slowly disappeared.

Any sane person would've questioned this.

Touya had stopped giving a shit somewhere around asking Satan for favors. "You can send me back?"

Crowley's expression changed.

Slightly.

Enough.

"I can."

Touya's heart slammed against his ribs. "Do it."

"Don't you want to hear the price?"

"No."

That actually made Crowley pause.

Touya stepped closer. "Send me back to when I was twenty-eight."

Crowley studied him. "The day matters."

Touya knew exactly which one.

Of course he did.

He'd replayed it thousands of times.

"The beach." Crowley's eyebrow rose. "Specific."

"Seven years ago. June 17th. We watched the sunset together."

That day.

The last day before you met the man you would eventually marry.

Touya had almost confessed.

You'd sat beside him on the sand, shoulders occasionally brushing, while the sunset painted the ocean orange and pink.

He remembered looking at you.

He remembered thinking, Tell them.

Then he'd gotten scared.

Tomorrow, you met someone else.

Seven years later, you died.

"Send me there."

Crowley slowly approached. "And you'll owe me."

"Fine."

"A piece of your soul."

"Take it."

"No dramatic bargaining?"

"Take the whole fucking thing if you have to."

Crowley stared at him for several seconds.

Then something almost resembling sympathy crossed the demon's face. "Just a piece will suffice."

Touya's throat tightened. "My family?"

"Safe."

"My rehabilitation?"

"Still happens."

Touya blinked.

Crowley smiled faintly. "You offered sacrifices I never requested, Todoroki. I'm a demon, not a monster."

"Debatable."

"Charming."

Touya almost laughed.

Almost.

Crowley extended his hand. "You'll remember everything. Every year. Every mistake. Every second of losing them."

Touya looked at the offered hand. "And them?"

"They remember nothing."

Good.

You didn't need to remember dying.

Touya grabbed Crowley's hand.

Pain exploded through his chest.

Not physical pain.

Something deeper.

Like invisible fingers reached inside him and tore away something that had always belonged there.

Touya screamed.

The rooftop disappeared.

The stars stretched.

Crowley's voice followed him into the darkness. "You have one chance, Touya Todoroki."

Then nothing.

Touya woke to the sound of waves.

His eyes snapped open.

Warm sand pressed beneath his palms.

The smell of salt filled his lungs.

His heart stopped.

No.

No fucking way.

Touya looked down at himself.

His hands.

His scars were still there, but different. Younger. His body didn't carry seven additional years of damage. The old ache in his shoulder was gone.

His phone was lying beside him.

Touya grabbed it.

The date.

Seven years ago.

His breath caught.

Then he heard you.

Not a ghost.

Not a recording.

Not some memory his grief had twisted into cruelty.

You.

Touya slowly turned his head.

You were sitting beside him.

Exactly where you'd been that evening.

Twenty-eight.

Alive.

The setting sun painted warm gold across your skin while the ocean stretched endlessly behind you. You were relaxed, enjoying the sunset, completely unaware that the man sitting beside you had watched your coffin lowered into the ground.

Touya couldn't breathe.

His vision blurred instantly.

Alive.

You were alive.

His hand twitched against the sand.

He wanted to grab you.

Pull you against his chest.

Check your pulse.

Listen to your heartbeat.

He wanted to laugh. Cry. Scream. Find Crowley and thank a fucking demon for answering when heaven hadn't.

Instead, Touya stared.

Seven years of grief crashed into him all at once.

Your wedding.

Your funeral.

The phone call telling him you'd died.

The investigation.

The nights he'd spent staring at your contact knowing nobody would ever answer again.

Gone.

None of it had happened yet.

His family was safe.

His rehabilitation was finished.

He wasn't Dabi.

And you were alive.

Crowley had actually kept his word.

Touya swallowed hard and looked toward the ocean before you could notice the tears gathering in his eyes.

He remembered this sunset.

He remembered exactly what happened next.

He remembered sitting here wanting desperately to tell you how he felt.

He remembered chickening out.

Tomorrow, you would meet him.

The man you would date.

The man you would marry.

The man Touya believed would eventually kill you.

His stomach twisted.

Not this time.

Whatever piece of his soul Crowley had taken was worth it.

Touya had spent four years learning how to live again because of you.

Then he'd wasted seven years loving you silently.

He wasn't wasting another second.

His fingers curled into the sand before he forced them to relax.

"Hey." His voice came out rough.

Touya cleared his throat.

You turned toward him.

Those eyes.

Looking at him.

His chest hurt.

Touya gave a shaky little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

This was ridiculous.

He'd sold part of his soul to a demon.

Asking you on a date shouldn't be the scary part.

But apparently some things never changed.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you." Touya looked directly at you this time.

No running.

No jokes.

No waiting for a better moment.

He'd already learned exactly how expensive waiting could become.

"I like you." His heart hammered. "Actually, that's bullshit. I'm way past liking you."

A nervous laugh escaped him. "I've been in love with you for a while."

There.

The words he'd waited seven years too long to say.

Touya shifted closer, blue eyes never leaving yours.

"So I'm asking now before I find some spectacular way to screw this up." His mouth pulled into a crooked smile. "Go out with me."

The sunset burned behind you.

Touya's eyes softened. "Just one date. Give me one date to prove I'm worth taking a chance on."