Chapter 163 - The Target

*

-10h58 Dabi stared blankly at his screen, not really looking at it.

His heart pounded in his ears, amplifying the sound of his own breathing to the point where he almost felt like he was drowning in open air.

It was 3:42 p.m., and under one of the few comments on the swim lesson video was another that Dabi couldn't explain.

Compromise.

Dabi methodically refreshed the page, swating, paralyzed by a sudden wave of anxiety.

If this had been Shoto's doing, Dabi's throat would have been slit and he'd ended in a gutter by now.

'Compromise'...

There must have been something wrong with the video, or maybe someone had found one of the copies. Either way, Dabi couldn't stand by and do nothing.

If someone decided to use it before Dabi to blackmail Shoto, then-

The new comment was gone.

Dabi ran his tongue over his teeth.

He refreshed the page six times in a row. Nothing.

He exhaled heavily, straightened up from his hunched position over the computer, then leaned his back against the cushions.

Sitting cross-legged, the PC on his knees, Dabi rubbed his damp palms against the thighs of his jeans, his eyes automatically going to the two men at the entrance to the living room, sitting in a chair, silent as graves, watching him with folded hands.

One of them had a book, which he wasn't reading, folded in the back pocket of his pants.

Dabi had tried to make conversation at the beginning of his house arrest, but neither of them had responded. They were like stone, cold and impersonal.

Could it have been the crazy witch who acted as their grandmother ?

No ; if it had been, Enji would have known and sent Dabi to prison long ago for trying to blackmail his beloved son by threatening his father's career.

Mechanically, Dabi kept refreshing the page.

His mind went over all the potential people who might still hold a grudge against him now that he'd left the Vilains's world.

Well, sort of.

When you'd done the kind of things he'd done, it was impossible to really leave that milieu.

He had to think more recent, more personal.

Who would be interested in using this video against Dabi now ?

Himiko ? Shigaraki ?

Shigaraki was in prison, in Tartarus, as Enji had told him.

If All for One had wanted to get him out, they would have done it months ago - the news of the breach of the most secure prison in the world would have been all over the media.

So Himiko.

But Himiko wasn't the thoughtful type.

Had she been free, she would have done everything in her power to find Dabi and slit his throat as brutally as possible. There would have been no missing video - she wouldn't have given Dabi time to prepare for an ambush.

If All for One is helping her...

All for One wouldn't help if it wasn't in his best interest to do so.

If he had wanted to kill Dabi, he would have opened a portal in the middle of his room and killed him before Dabi could blink.

The fact that he was still alive proved that All for One didn't care about 'avenging' Shigaraki or Dabi's betrayal.

Could it really be called treason ? Dabi hadn't pledged allegiance to anyone, he hadn't worked exclusively for the League, he had never sworn loyalty to All for One.

If you omitted Enji, his son, the crazy old witch, Himiko, Shigaraki - and therefore All for One - then that could only mean one thing : outside interference.

But who-

His gaze was drawn back to the screen.

Below his own comments, an address appeared.

Tokyo, tonight, 4:44 a.m.

Three minutes later, the message disappeared.

*

- 01h22

Standing in his office, Hawks watched nighttime Tokyo without actually seeing the city.

The red and yellow lights of cars and neon signs flashed before his eyes as if they had been accelerated, streaks of light crossing the streets, avenues, and boulevards as if he were in the middle of a fireworks display turned fire.

He liked his life, sometimes.

Granted, he was stuck in his job until he died, and yes, maybe he wasn't allowed to leave the country without permission from the Commission, but it wasn't all bad.

He got paid well and the food wasn't too bad.

And... and... the food really wasn't bad.

He finished his thirteenth cigarette, tossed it into his trash can, then lit the next one mechanically.

He'd told Shoto that he'd like to live long enough to get a serious case of lung cancer, and he meant it.

Having such a trivial problem almost turned him on, he who had always lived on the edge of society, outside of the real world and its tangibility.

Shit, even having trouble paying his bills seemed like the height of excitement.

He could already see himself, socks full of holes and shoes worn out, mittens on his hands and fingers numb from the cold, running from one shop to another with a stack of resumes under his elbow, asking to see a manager, trying to convince him to hire him for a little while, just a little while, just a few hours, so that he would have enough to pay the water bill or his daughter's school lunch…

People would look at him with pity and concern as he pleaded his case, listen patiently when they knew they really had nothing to offer him, watch him go back out into the bitter cold, and think about him in their beds at night, wondering if he'd managed to find what he was looking for and really hoping he had.

He would be admired, regarded as a martyr of sorts.

People would look at him - really look at him - and see Keigo, not Hawks, mereley another man doing his best with the cards life had dealt him, just like everyone else.

Life would be hard, but he'd be happy as long as he had his little brother with him.

This Keigo had no wings, but he was the freest version of himself he could imagine.

Hawks exhaled a puff of smoke.

Dying didn't frighten him, it was just that the idea of nothingness - an infinite nothing - that bored him as if he was already there.

He'd have no problem surviving in prison as long as it wasn't Tartarus - the Commission had done way more than merely teaching them how to use their Quirks.

Being booed and treated like an outcast, on the other hand...

Hawks had a lot of respect for Endeavor : the fact that he had carried on as a Hero with dignity, despite the way people treated him because of his sons...

Really, no one could have blamed him if he had retired.

Hawks, on the other hand, didn't know if he could stand to work knowing that people hated him.

They may not have known him, but Hawks was still a facet - however misleading - of Keigo, and the only thing that made Keigo truly exist in the eyes of the world.

Hawks had no friends, no family, no one to wait for him when he went home at night.

He couldn't bear to be hated by the whole world.

It would kill him.

Hawks blinked.

He absentmindedly noticed that his cigarette had burned down to the butt without him smoking it, and that he had his cell phone -his second cell phone -in his hand.

It was three in the morning.

Hawks should have been in bed, or at least barely opening his eyes, wondering, exhausted, what time it was.

Hawks trusted Shoto - the kid must have spent hours preparing and refining his plan to get something as qualitative as he did.

He seemed to know what he was doing, to have thought through every possible scenario.

But it was Hawks who was going to kill Touya, not him. If he had made the slightest miscalculation, made the smallest oversight...

Hawks knew people who would clean it up in an hour, leaving no trace.

If it went wrong...

His finger hovered over his screen.

Hawk hesitated.

He had no intention of backing down or turning the kid in.

It was just a backup in case something went wrong.

Hawk tapped his keyboard briefly, then sent the text without giving himself time to regret what he was doing.

He put the cell phone back in his pocket, looked up at the city, and finished his cigarette in silence.

It was time to get ready.

Tonight he would kill a man.

*

- 00h56

There was something satisfying about spending an entire day training your men in a variety of manoeuvres and deployment formations, and watching them succeed with little help.

It was different from training civilians - Vilains included - and much more exhilarating.

He stepped out of the shower and leaned against a metal bar built into the wall to help him move around his apartments.

Anyone else would have felt their ego bruised to find themselves in this position.

"Sir"

He paused at the edge of his bed, his satin bathrobe rubbing against his knees.

"There was a call from Japan"

He reached for the phone : the receiver floated from the soldier's hand to his own.

The receiver crackled ; he waited for the sound to steady before putting it to his ear.

"I've just been informed-"

The voice died and all sound at the other end of the line stopped.

It was as if he'd put his hand over the microphone to prevent anyone on his end from hearing him.

"I've just been informed," the voice whispered. "That the boy and his mentor are going to kill your former employee tonight"

No names were mentioned ; he was afraid someone might be listening.

"The target ?"

"Alone and unsecured on the other side of town. The mole is with him"

"All Might ?"

"I can have him called up North of the country on urgent business, maybe wake up a Nomu or two and have him rushed there - he won't be in Tokyo"

"Endeavor ?"

The caller hesitated.

"He's at home, resting. I don't know how to get him away from the epicentre"

All for One was not a man to make the same mistake twice.

He hadn't expected chance to hand him his target on a platter, rather he'd spent the last few months drilling his soldiers on all the scenarios they'd face once they went after him.

All for One had thought he would have to create the perfect opportunity, waiting for the rat to turn his head elsewhere so he could seize his chance.

But fate had handed him a golden opportunity on a silver platter.

He wouldn't let it pass.

"Find me Endeavor's number"

*

A/N : Gonna stop making interventions to let you fully enjoy the next arc. 

If you want to read ahead of schedule AND support the story, then go check the story's P@treon, Nar_cisseENG