Dabis Kid (Edits Complete)

(8) Dinner With Ghosts and Blood -Edited

It had been two days since the letters arrived.

Which meant today was the day.

I stood in my room for a long second, breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth-like that was supposed to help. My hands shook anyway as I pulled on my clothes, checked myself in the mirror, adjusted my wings so they didn't snag on fabric.

Get it together, I told my reflection. It's just dinner.

Liar.

I was halfway to the door when Father spoke.

"And where are you going?"

I froze.

The air felt heavier. I turned slowly, schooling my face into something casual.

"I'm eating out with my friends," I said.

There was a pause. A sigh.

"Okay," he said finally. "Be back by eleven-thirty."

"Yes, sir," I replied, relief and guilt tangling in my ribs.

Outside, the night air felt electric. I walked to the alley-the same one Bubbly always used-heart pounding like it was trying to warn me of something ancient.

"Mamagiri," I whispered to the darkness. "Can you send them through a portal?"

Purple light bloomed like a bruise in the air.

They stepped out together-Bubbly first, grinning and bright, then Dad and Papa side by side. For a moment, everything felt right. Like a photograph where no one blinked.

We showed off our outfits, laughed softly, adjusted collars and sleeves. Then we started walking.

Every step closer to Grandpa's house felt like stepping deeper into history.

Before we knocked, we stopped.

Bubbly squeezed my hand. Dad's fingers laced with Papa's.

Knock knock.

Dad knocked.

The door opened.

The woman standing there had white hair streaked with red-fire frozen mid-burn. Her breath caught when she saw Dad.

"T-Touya-nii..."

Dad's face softened in a way I'd never seen before.

"Hey, Yumi," he said gently. "How've you been?"

She stepped aside, eyes shining. "Good."
Inside, the house was massive and warm and filled with echoes. She turned to me and smiled.

"You must be Ash. I'm Fuyumi. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," I said, voice small.

She glanced at Dad and laughed softly.

"She's you, brother. Just... with wings."

T

hat earned a laugh from all of us.

The living room was full. Eight people. All watching me.

Grandpa sat among them.

I latched onto Bubbly's arm and dropped my gaze. Papa nudged me gently.

"Hun," he murmured. "Introduce yourself. It'll be less awkward."

Bubbly kissed the top of my head.

"H-hello," I said. "My name is Ash Takami-Todoroki."

Then I hid my face in Bubbly's neck like a coward.

"Himiko Toga," Bubbly said brightly, waving. "Hi!"

"I'm Tomura Shigaraki-Todoroki now," Papa added. "We got married over the summer."

Dad crossed his arms. "You all know me. Except maybe Shoto and Hitoshi-you were babies when I left. So... I'm Touya. Your brother. Cousin. Something like that."

We moved to the table.

A boy with tired eyes leaned toward me.

"I'm Hitoshi Yamada-Aizawa. Your cousin. What's your quirk?"

I felt it instantly-pressure, static.

I slid a paper toward him. Turn off your quirk.

He did. Immediately.

"My quirks are Fierce Wings, Brainwash, and Advanced Hell-Flame," I said. "Same flame color as Dad."

He went pale.

"That's how you felt it?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. My wings are just... sensitive."

His eyes lit up with awe.

Then it hit me.

Aizawa.

I turned to him slowly, stars in my eyes.
Papa cleared his throat. "Hey. Not the time to fan-out."

Dad laughed. "She just realized her favorite hero is her great-uncle."

"Y-you're Eraser Head?!" I blurted.

He looked mortified.

"S-sorry," I said quickly. "It's just-wow."

Grandma placed a bowl in front of me.

"Cold soba," she said gently.

"Thank you," I replied. "I've never tried it before."

The table went silent.

Shoto stared at me. "You've... never had cold soba?"

I shook my head.

"Well damn," he said. "Eat it. That's our lifeline."

"Language," Grandpa muttered.

"Japanese," Shoto replied. "Now eat."

I did.

Heaven.

I demolished the bowl. Then another. Then five more.

"More please, Grandma," I asked.

She smiled and kept them coming.

Later, full and warm, I curled up on the couch.

"Papa," I asked suddenly. "What time is it?"

"12:45," he said. "Why?"

Panic hit like ice.

I grabbed my bag and bolted for the table. "Shitshitshit-"

I flew up to the roof and called Father.

"I'm sorry," I said, voice shaking. "I missed curfew."

His face hardened.

"Come home. Now. You're grounded. No leaving until your U.A letter arrives."

Tears spilled.

"Give me your phone when you get back."

"Yes, sir."

I fell when I landed-hard.

Papa soothed me while Dad wrapped my arm. Broken. Probably.

They stayed. Bubbly walked me home.

Before I went inside, I kissed her.

"Can I call you Himi?" I asked softly.

She smiled. "Only if I get to call you Azula."

I nodded.

Inside, Father waited.

"Phone."

I handed it over.

"Bed."

I obeyed.

I didn't sleep.

I cried myself to sleep instead, imagining empty bottles and silent rooms, and hoping-somewhere-that this pain would still be worth it.