The Akito-Sutorimu household reflects well on it's owners pay grades but even with open formatting and expensive counter tops, it's kitchen isn't enough for their ragtag group. The next morning Izuku watches with amusement  as all twelve of his friends pushed and shoved their way past each other, reaching for various dishes and shouting orders - though the last one was mostly Dabi demanding supplies for his cooking and Fuyumi trying to herd the group into some sense of organization. He hears a cry as Natsuo's elbow goes flying into Kaseki's face and Hawks drops a plate.

For once, Izuku was more than happy to stay far away from the group where he sat at the coffee table. He woke up late - his phone screen telling him it was near eleven o'clock - to the sound of Hatsume shrieking about burnt eggs, and blearily found his way to the main room. He thinks all of them have yet to notice he's there; quietly sitting and observing with a small uptick smile. His suspicions are confirmed when Sutorimu exits from the center of the horde and makes for the couch, eyes widening slightly when they catch on him. He waves shyly and lets her sit down across from him.

Izuku's hunched over with morning fogginess. He's weighed down by dark bags under his eyes and an exhaustion that pulls at his very soul. His talk with Shouto offered him a small amount of sleep, but certainty not enough.

"Did we wake you?" Sutorimu asks, taking a seat. The chair she chooses is clearly hers with how easily she sinks into it, body fitting perfectly into it's creases. It's strange seeing her in such a comfortable piece of furniture, her posture sagging where it would normally be so straight it was like her spine had been tightened by string.

Shrugging, Izuku said, "It's not a big deal. I should be awake by now already, anyways."

"You should be resting," she insists.

He bites down on his tongue, trapping his urge to argue. Rest wasn't what was needed right now, not with the commission at large and  the world crumbling before his very eyes. Not with people being turned into creatures, being ripped apart and sewn together in broken misaligned ways.

Sutorimu jerked her head towards the kitchens chaos. "They're worried about you."

That's the worst part, Izuku thinks. He's glad to have the support but he wishes they didn't have to worry; that he could walk away from all that's happened unscathed and simply do what Revite does best: tell the world. But his lungs close every time he thinks to talk about the Nomus. His hands tremble every time he imagines putting them to a keyboard and spelling out what the world deserve to know.

He meets Sutorimu's eyes.

"Are you? Worried, I mean."

She hesitates. He's never known her to hesitate in the short few months they've interacted. After a moment, she nods. "I am, but I didn't worry when you were gone."

Staring, he wonders how she can be so blunt and yet so hard to understand. At least she's not tip-toeing around him like some of the others. This is her normal. He likes the normal much more than whatever confusion is hovering outside it.

He tilted his head to the side, raising his brows, and Sutorimu sighed. She leaned forward in her chair and nodded to him.

"I knew you would be okay - that even if we didn't save you, you would have found a way out yourself," she explains.

"How could you be so certain?" he asks.

In a very Sutorimu-like manner, she doesn't answer the question directly but instead replies, "We have the same weakness, you and I. Weaknesses tell us a lot about how we'll handle situations like the one you were in."

Surprised, he frowns. He thought having the same weakness would be something Sutorimu would have mentioned before. Then again, she didn't say she knew he was Revite until people's lives were on the line.

"What's our weakness?" he says, finding himself truly curious.

"We can't let go," she answers slowly. Her disproportionate eyes settled on him, the larger one glossing over vaguely. "People only ever want to hear their strengths when it comes to my quirk. No one wants to know about their weaknesses. To most, that's a hurdle to overcome later in life. The ironic part is often there is not strength without it's weakness. They go hand in hand, so much so that most weaknesses are the same as their strengths."

He purses his lips together for a second. Then, says, "And our strengths are like that?"

She nodded.

"Our weakness is very much a weakness, don't mistake that. It weighs us down and will be our biggest faults. Not moving on from things we should, not forgetting about horrors that we've faced, holding a grudge for years - those will hurt you as they have hurt me." Her hands curled around her knees, knuckles turning white. He understood. He understood a lot. But, her lips slowly curved up into a gentle smile. "But with every problem, we have an opportunity.

"You couldn't let go of Shudders wrongs so you wrote an article about him. You couldn't move past what you saw with the Todoroki's so you saved them. You can't let go of the people you love, or your ambitions, or your desire to keep everyone safe so you fight till there's nothing left of you. I knew you would do anything to get away from the commission because you can't let go of seeing the world become a better place."

She reached across the table and placed a hand on his chest, right where his heart is.

"I'll tell you a secret, Midoriya. The best part about having this as our weakness is we hold onto the world so tightly that when we do let go, we leave an imprint. That's why I hired you, and it's why I know that if you keep following your heart like you have been, everything will be okay."

His eyes stung, and he bit down on his lip to keep it from quivering. The room is abuzz with chatter but he's numb to it then, the rest of the world fading into the background as he sinks into Sutorimu's hand.

That's all he wanted to hear. That he'd be okay not just cause, but because it's him. Sutorimu, perhaps, is the only person he can believe with all that she refuses to be anything but logical.

"Thank you," he murmurs, voice cracking.

"Your welcome," she says, nodding curtly.

From the kitchen, there's a loud cry of, "You're burning it all! No! Don't touch it with your hands!" from Akito. Sutorimu merely shoots him an exasperated look before standing up with a sigh and stepping towards the kitchen.

"If your name is not Dabi or Sana - get out!"

It's suffice to say everyone scattered. Izuku couldn't help the short burst of laughter that left his lips.

-:-

"How is this going to go?" Komori asks once everyone is settled in the living room. "I mean, not to sound like the Debby Downer or anything but taking down the entire hero system isn't an easy feat."

Izuku chewed at his lip as their group grows quiet. They all know what's to come won't be easy. There's a very high chance that their next move will taint their lives forever if they mess up. That knowledge holds them all in a tight grip as no one makes to speak or challenge Komori.

"With the right evidence," Izuku says, "we'll be fine."

From his spot on the floor, Shinsou raised his brows and deadpanned, "Right. The evidence, which we have heaps of. Last we checked, the commission destroyed everything in Charlie's house that he'd been collecting."

"We don't need that. I have everything important in another safe place," said Charlie, shaking his head. Vaguely, Izuku remembers Damaso mentioning something about a safe of information. He thinks he read a bit about it in Charlie's notebooks. "The commission has been trying to find it's location for months now. They didn't think to look in the place most important to me."

Charlie turned to Komori. The girl frowned, seeming confused before suddenly her head jerked up and a tiny gasp left her lips. She exclaimed, "That's what that was!"

"Can someone explain what we're supposed to be realizing?" Hawks inquired.

Izuku watched as Komori raced off to her room only to emerge seconds later with her bag in hand. She ruffled through it and yanked out a locket. She held it out proudly, showing off it's silver finish and coiled chain. Then it clicked for Izuku. The place most important to Charlie: wherever Komori was.

. . . find her and she'll give you the key to where the rest of the evidence is stored.

The message in Charlie's notebook made more sense as he sat and observed Komori pop open the locket. On the left side, there was a small photograph of a slightly younger looking Komori holding up a peace sign tucked into the sides of a tall woman with eyes the same as the girl's and hair just as dark. However, her ears weren't bat like but instead more like a mouses.

Komori glanced from the photo to Charlie, her expression twisted to hold a small sympathetic smile. Izuku felt all too much like he was invading on a private moment. Quietly, Komori angled the locket so they could all see the right side. More specifically, the number imprinted across it.

"'It's an address," Charlie explained. "Underneath those numbers is the code to the safe kept there. All physical evidence you need to take down the commission is in there. Records, experiment houses, statistics, police reports, forensic proof - all of it."

Akito clapped him on the back, causing him to wince. "Look at you, old man! Doing our jobs for us!"

Dabi snorted. "Like that's all the evidence we have. You should see the amount of stuff backed up on Izuku's computer, not to mention the paper files he stole from the Commission several weeks back or the dozens of notebooks stashed in our flat."

"And the video footage," Izuku added on out of habit.

The whole room swiveled to look at him. He froze, realizing what he said. He cringed and allowed his shoulder to rise to his ears as he flushed a light pink. He really needs to work on his brain to mouth filter.

"What footage, Midoriya?" Shinsou ground out, sounding mildly annoyed.

"Uh... "He struggled to find the words with everyone looking at him. "The footage from the cameras.. embedded in Hawks, Dabi and mine's clothing."

It's fair to say there were a lot of loud and vaguely offended reactions.

"You had a camera on you this whole time?" Ayumu snapped.

"What the fuck." Kaseki said as he stared at Izuku blankly.

Natsuo face palmed. "It's like the recorders in our home all over again."

Akito pouted and asked, "You didn't think to tell us this?"

"He never tells anyone anything," Dabi grumbled. He pointed to the point at his shoulder where his camera is positioned. "I didn't find out about this thing till almost six weeks into working with him. And he told me that before he told me he was quirkless and that he knew Keigo was a spy."

Hawks veered away from Dabi as he shot him a glare, hands raised in surrender. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I though we were past all those things."

"If I remember correctly, you knew he was quirkless too and didn't tell me."

"I thought you knew!" Izuku exclaimed, attempting to defend himself for the seventh time. For some reason, Dabi never fails to bring up his mishap with keeping that information from him. He turned to the rest of the group. "And I figured Dabi and Keigo told you guys. I certainly couldn't, cause newsflash, I was in a cell and before that none of you even knew I was Revite. Was I supposed to casually walk up to you and say 'hey, I'm an illegal vigilante and keep cameras on all my allies persons to gather information.'"

Ayumu glared. "You could have told Charlie and me when we were with the commission. It'd be nice to know you had a way to prove all the shit they told us."

"I didn't want to risk anyone overhearing!" Izuku whined. Why did he need to explain this? "I was lucky enough to get away with them letting me keep my jacket as is."

Ayumu huffed, turning her head away from him. Sutorimu, ever the savior, joined the conversation with a blunt, "Stop arguing about irrelevant details. What's important is that we have the evidence. Now we need to decide what to do with it. Are we taking the commission down, or are we not?"

It should be an easy enough question, but Izuku still found himself hesitating. He knew going after the commission was the right choice but... he couldn't bring himself to be fully on board.

That thought brought guilt to pool in his stomach, burning him from the inside. It was selfish, but when he looked around this room and thought about these people fighting against the commission, he wanted to curl up and cry. Because no matter how much he tries, he won't be able to protect them all. If they do this, not everyone is going to be happy with them and they will make enemies. There are people out there who will tear them apart, will destroy them for taking away the commissions power.

When he blinks, he can see the Nomu's frozen faces flash across his eyelids - can see so vividly how those creatures could kill all those he loves or how they could become them. Damaso was right when he said he could not harm her within the commissions walls, but what he also understands is that her power extends past concrete borders; it seeps into the worlds way of being. He knows doing this might hurt those he helps, but he also knows not doing anything will hurt more.

How many more kids will grow up like he did - shamed for his quirk and dreams - if he stands by? How many more people will become Nomus if he does not point out this injustice? Will there be anything to stop more licensed villains from being with the commission still protecting them? What happens to all the heroes like Hawks and Ayumu, raised for the sole purpose of fighting? All the people living in families like the Todoroki's, what happens to them if no one tries to help?

Izuku looks at Dabi. His friend, and the person whose been at his side since the beginning. Dabi's eyes hold his gaze, unwavering and a silent promise that whatever he chooses, he'll support him. When he sees the rest of the group, he knows they'll stand by him no matter what- they'll do anything to help. With that in mind, he makes his choice.

"We won't do an article," Izuku says confidently. "We'll do something better. Something that will grab everyone's attention and show what the commissions doing, Not just the big things, but the little ones too. How their actions affect everyone's day to day life. Something personal. Meaningful."

Izuku watches as Dabi nods approvingly at him, a warm feeling of content settling in his chest. He wasn't going to sit by and watch.

All you do is hurt others, Izuku Midoriya. Even when you think you're saving them. You can't do anything right.

Izuku grits his teeth but doesn't give into Damaso's words spinning in his head. She's wrong. He's going to do this right, and he'll save everyone whose lives she's ruined.

"What do you have in mind?" Fuyumi asked.

Izuku grinned as a plan came to him. The commission wasn't going to survive, not this time.

-:-

After two hours of gathering notes and planning out their move, their group finally departed for lunch. An hour before, Kaseki and Hatsume left to go retrieve Charlie's evidence seeing as they were the two least watched members of there group right now, and just arrived back in time for when everyone broke away. Charlie took the boxes they held from them and dropped them in front of Izuku.

Izuku raised a brow, eyes flicking between the evidence and Charlie. "What?"

"Open it," he urged.

He stared at the box laying at his feet with ice settling in his chest. "Uh... I think you should get lunch with the others. Take a break. We don't need to look at this right now."

Charlie shoved the box closer to him. "Open it."

Taking one look at the determined glint in his eyes, Izuku sighed and gently took the lid of the box. He peered into it. There were at least three different binders stacked on top of each other, bits and pieces of stray papers or knick knacks squished between them. Resting at the top of the pile was a list stapled together. He reached in and gingerly held the paper in his hands. The heading read: Nomu victims.

The paper dropped from his hands.

purple skin, grey skin, beaks, wings, exposed brains, dead and pained eyes that weren't quite lifeless

"Why are you - Why would you show me this?" Izuku gaped at Charlie.

The man's lip turned into a sad frown. He pushed the paper towards him more. "Look again. See the check marks running alongside most of the names?"

He saw them. He didn't want to think about it. Not now. He was doing so well today and can't be sidetracked. After lunch they still have work to do.

"Those marks signify the people whose families I've been able to contact."

Izuku whipped his head up. "What?"

Charlie sighed. His thumb absently rubbed at the paper in his hand, a reminder that he too had seen the horrific Nomus. Izuku wondered if his eyes look like Charlie's, dimmed and heavy as they traced over the dozens of names on the page. They may not have known each other long, but Izuku understood Charlie more than most. He knew what it was like to see the wrongs of the world and try to do something about it - the prices that cost. He always knew there would be a truth he wouldn't be able to handle, but he didn't think it would be one like this.

"Look, Revite," Charlie said. Even his voice sounded heavy, like it was Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. "I know what it's like to grieve for the Nomus. It's hard to sleep knowing I get to and they don't; that my world will keep living out normally while theirs is confined to whatever cages the commission has them in. I get it. But, everyday we have to wake up, look that sick pain in the face and say today I will make you hurt a little less."

His eyes soften behind the lenses of his glasses, the warm ambers of his eyes mixing with the pale beige of his crinkled skin. While he clearly aches, he still tries to comfort Izuku.

"I do that by helping their families," he continues. "When my wife disappeared, I looked for her for months. When I saw her ears on the body of a Nomu, it broke me but at least I knew where she was. It hurt more than thinking she was dead. I don't want the others families to hurt like that.

"So, I call them. I tell them that I saw their missing persons reports and make up some lie about how they died. Always quickly and painlessly. I say it was uncertain who they knew at first so they were cremated without knowledge of any kin. Then, if they ask, I give them ashes from a yoshino cherry tree."

Charlie shrugged. "Maybe that makes me a bad person, lying to them like that. I don't know. All I'm trying to say it you can't be upset for what you couldn't do, but you can feel a little better for what you can and will do."

He smiled at him.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again; you will do great things, Revite. You are doing them. This plan of yours is doing good on those people and their families, much more good than I ever did."

For the second time that day, Izuku felt tears sting his eyes, threatening to pull hiccuping sobs from his lips. He hunched over in his seat, bringing his hands up to wipe at his eyes. He nodded, like it would ease the clenching in his chest. Izuku couldn't stop the sense of relief that washed over him. If he'd been told six months ago that he'd have people reaching out to him to make sure he knew that what he was doing was okay, he would have asked if they were talking to wrong person. Now, he sat with warmth wrapping around him knowing that he had all his friends looking after him. They trusted and believed in him. He was going to be okay if they said so because he trusted them too.

He glanced at the list of names with watery eyes, if only to distract himself. His eyes catch on a name in the middle, bolded and unchecked.

"Lady Nagant?" he said out loud.

Charlie frowned deeply. He folded the paper, tucking it away as he said, "We can go through her files later. Just, maybe don't mention it to Keigo and Ayumu until we decide if we'll use her information in the plan."

Izuku nodded. He didn't understand, but he trusted Charlie well enough. Whatever it was that brought him to be careful about telling the Young Heroes Program heroes, Izuku knew Hawks and Ayumu could handle it with everyone supporting them. It'd be okay.

Shakily, Izuku said, "You should go get lunch before Dabi or anyone else sees you made me cry."

"'I'm not scared of him." Charlie assures, the uptick of his lips returning.

"But you should be of Akito and Sutorimu."

Charlie glanced over his shoulder like he half expected the two women to be standing behind him. He stepped away from him, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "You're right. Promise you'll text me if you need anything? Even just a shoulder to cry on or someone to rant about heroes with."

"I promise."

Charlie nodded jerkily and exited towards the kitchen. Izuku shook his head, chuckling under his breath. The man was awkward, but he had a good heart.

Izuku was wiping away the last of his tears when Fuyumi left the kitchen, two plates of food balanced in her hands. She scans the room until her eyes land on him and she visibly brightens. She walks over to him and sets one of the plates down atop the box, a welcoming smile gracing her features.

"Thanks," he says.

"Your welcome." She turned to face him fully as she sat on the couch. "How are you holding up?"

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Okay. Everyone keeps trying to have emotional conversations with me."

Surprisingly, she snorts a short laugh. Her laugh sounds a lot like Dabi's; oddly high for both of their voices and a little maniacal. It's completely different from Natsuo's, who's loud and boisterous - a deep thrum rather than an airy chime.

"I think," she says, "that everyone's worried for you and are trying their best to cheer you up."

He hums. He'd figured as much himself.

There is a loud squawk as Hawks stumbles into the room, his wings fanned out and his plate of food held close to his chest. Dabi strolled in after him, a confident grin stretched across his lips as he guided a fork full of food into his mouth.

"That was mine!" Hawks protested.

Dabi gave him only a nonchalant shrug, walking past him to sit down at the dinning table. Hawks fluttered after him, rambling on about how his metabolism required more food than Dabi's.

"I'm glad Touya's making friends."

Izuku startled at the sound of Fuyumi's voice. He looks to her, noting the sad smile she wore and how her eyes refused to stray from where Hawks and Dabi sat. Izuku bit his tongue from mentioning he was ninety percent certain they were not friends.

Instead, he corrected, "Dabi. Not Touya."

Dabi hated his name from what he could tell. He flinched every time he heard it and was always correcting Natsuo when he messed up. He had yet to correct Fuyumi beyond their fight a week back, but Izuku suspected that was only because they were avoiding each other like the plague.

Fuyumi frowned. Izuku is still shocked how her mannerisms look so much more like Dabi's than Natsuo's. Izuku wanted to see what their mother looked like in person if the two of them truly did take after her.

"Right. Dabi," she said. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm still trying to get used to that. He's - I can't not see my brother when I look at him."

"Dabi's still your brother," he pointed out."

Fuyumi rolled her head to look at him, her eyes staring into his. "Is he?"

With a start, Izuku realized maybe it wasn't Fuyumi trying to distance them but rather her thinking Dabi wanted that. A single glimpse at the honest tone she used and he knew she truly wanted her brother back. He knew Dabi wanted his sister back from the three days of the Todoroki's trial that he spent on rooftops around the building, looking out for trouble. He knew it in the way he was attempting to give Fuyumi space.

"Dabi isn't Touya," Izuku said. "I won't lie to you about that but he is still your brother just as you're still his sister. He goes by Dabi because that's who he is, not because he wanted to distance himself from you. He. . . I think you'll find he misses you. And under all that anger, you miss him too."

"I'm not angry," she's quick to argue. "I'm upset that he left and never thought to say anything but I'm not angry. I don't want to be angry with him. I just want him to come back home."

She set her utensils down on her plate, breathing deeply through her nose. She shakes her head.

"I don't . . . He left us. He left me and now he's running around as this entirely different person who I can't begin to understand because he's not Touya."

Izuku watched in silence as she hung her head and looked to the floor. He didn't know what she was feeling, not by a long shot, but he did know Dabi and that she wasn't seeing him as clearly as he'd thought.

"You're not the Fuyumi he used to know either," Izuku said. "You're not his little sister anymore, but rather a woman who doesn't need him anymore. That's for the better. You're stronger. And he's not Touya but that's for better too. He's happier, safer. He's not Touya but he is Dabi, and he's your brother like that too. Isn't that all that matters?"

Fuyumi stares at him, her eyes unblinking and lips pressed into a tight frown. He felt scrutinized under her grey gaze. Slowly, she looked back to where Dabi and Hawks were. Something shifted in her demeaning, transition from grief to an emotion he couldn't name. Her shoulders eased from the tight form they'd held before and her body leaned farther back into the couch.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "For not seeing that and for taking it out on you. Really, I should be thanking you."

His cheeks burned as he reared back a bit. "Thanking me?"

Shocked, Izuku finds Fuyumi's hand resting on his knee, gently touching him in a way that communicated more than words. He stares at her pale fingers with his mind reeling. When he glances back up at her, he freezes. Her eyes are glistening with fresh tears, her lower lip trembling as it faintly arcs up into a smile.

"Yes. Thank you, for helping my family."

He faltered. Then, dove straight into saying, "I really didn't do much--"

"You did enough," she murmured. She gestured to Dabi, the grin on his face as he snatches another piece of Hawks' food and hands it off to Natsuo who wears a matching grin as he takes an exaggerated bite. "Dabi needed someone like you to keep him from spiraling. Natsuo's day was better when he came home from work to talk about the regular who had eyes like our brother - made him feel like Touya was here again. You brought our brother back, you saved him, and you gave Shouto a friend. I can't not thank you for that."

Izuku remembers being little and having other kids tell him that peoples quirks reflected their personalities. Those with teleportation ones were flaky. Kids with explosive quirks were loud. Izuku never did believe that, but now with Fuyumi and her ice quirk he knows for certain that it's a lie. She could never be cold, not with how kind she was.

Biting his lip, Izuku nodded slowly.

"I'm glad I could help," he said. He meant it, deeply.

They sat there, watery eyes and half smiles, for a few moments longer; letting content silence speak for them. Eventually, the peace was broken as a loud crash rang out from the kitchen, followed by a shriek of, "Hatsume!"

Fuyumi looked between him and the kitchen before sighing. She stood up, gesturing for him to follow. "Come on. Let's go make sure no one dies."

He laughed like he had with Sutorimu and happily chased after her.

-:-

The next few days pass by at an easy slow pace, dragging rowdy mornings into tiresome nights. Their group shuffles around the house, making use of every space and apologizing to Sutorimu for ever picture knocked off the wall and forgetfulness when it comes to turning off the lights, but it's good. It's like they're tucked in a bubble the rest of the world can't touch. Or at least it is for him seeing as he's not allowed to leave.

Every afternoon, Shinsou, Kaseki, and Hatsume return with class notes for Komori and him, always willing to teach subjects to them several times. Shinsou complains that Present Mic has cornered him, concerned about Izuku's health and how he's getting analyst notes. Kaseki, on the other hand, won't shut up about how for some odd reason Yagi-sensei hasn't been at school and his sub is a horribly boring hero named Nighteye. Izuku thinks it's best not to mention that Yagi-sensei is missing for the same reason as All Might, too busy guarding their families.

The Todoroki's leave some days to attend Endeavor's trials until midway through the week when it's announced Endeavor has been sentenced to fifteen years prison time for his crimes. They celebrate that night with bottles of wine Akito stashes in the fridge, though Sutorimu keeps it far away from the students instead shoving cup of sparkling juice into their hands like it will make them feel better. Shouto finds him that night to share he's being taken under U.A.'s guardianship and will be moved on campus sometime in the next month. He's never seen the boy so happy.

It's not all amazing. There are hours where the air feels thick and his chest too hollow as he pours over the piles of evidence they have, searching for something, anything that could make things right. He hates that they're taking so long. Every day that passes feels like another moment wasted where they could have already gotten rid of the commission. During those times, Dabi tells him to take a shower and go to bed. Izuku usually listens, but if he doesn't the group get's Shinsou to command him to.

Charlie is right, though. As they work on their plan - recording every person and piecing it all together gradually - he starts to feel just a little better. He's helping someone, if not those who have already been hurt then those who have yet to be. He's creating a brighter future to outshine the gloomy past. It's okay. He'll be okay and so will everyone else. Soon.

Recording is almost his least favourite part of his day. It's long and tedious and requires too much standing on his part as he asks questions and directs people to talk about certain topics. The only thing worse than recording is surveillance and evidence gathering. He sits in Sutorimu's office for hours at night when he can't sleep, sifting through boxes or writing reports for the police department that they'll hand everything into. Sometimes he gets paranoid and turns on the camera footage for the house, jumping at every shadow.

The mornings after those nights he almost always wakes to a warm blanket around his shoulders and a glass of water sitting on the desk. Maybe even a pillow under his head. It makes the day more bearable.

His favourite part of the day is breakfast. Fuyumi made a rule on the second day that breakfast is a no business zone. They don't talk about school, the plan, the commission, politics - none of it. They just sit and laugh and enjoy each others time together before Akito and Sutorimu leave for work at their new agencies and the students go to U.A.. The sucky part is Dabi and Izuku are often left on dishes duty. If Dabi sprays him with water or places soap spuds on his head one more time, he might have to cover up a murder. Or just get Hawks to pin him to the ceilings with his feathers for a few hours.

He thinks Fuyumi would get him down, now that they're more docile around each other. He at least can trust the other Todoroki's to be on his side. Natsuo and Shouto would laugh at Dabi.

Regardless of all the fine print details, everything is coming around. He's learning more about his friends and gaining support from them. He's watching as they grow too. Ayumu is steadily getting better as Akito smothers her with attention and validation. And, most importantly, the plan is almost ready.

By the ninth day, everything is in position.

Izuku sits in the living room with his computer on his lap. Beside him, Dabi nudges his shoulder. He nods towards the screen. "You ready?"

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. For months he's been building up to this - his final move to put the hero society as it is right now in checkmate. Is this enough? How can all his work come down to own little push of a button? Is this the right play?

"It'll work out, Izuku," Hawks said from his other side. His wings rest over his shoulder, a comforting reminder of his presence.

Izuku takes a deep breath, letting the air enter through his lungs. When he breathes out, he presses down on the Post button on his screen. He slammed the computer shut with shaky hands, everything about the commission out for all the world to see.

The three of them smile at each other with the satisfaction of fools who've finally won a game.

Your move, Damaso.