DabiDabi sat slouched in the stiff-backed chair, his wrists heavy with the cold, unyielding weight of the Quirk-cancelling cuffs. The room was sterile, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, and the faint smell of cheap coffee lingered in the air. He had expected to rot in a cell after his capture, forgotten by the world until his body turned to dust. But instead, here he was, in some government office, listening to a man in a suit drone on about rehabilitation and second chances.
The man—some mid-level bureaucrat with a receding hairline and a tie that screamed I have no personality—was pacing in front of him, clutching a clipboard like it was a lifeline. His voice was nasally, grating on Dabi’s nerves with every word.
“As part of your rehabilitation program,” the man said, adjusting his glasses, “you’ll be entering into a legally binding arrangement. A marriage, to be specific. This is a crucial step in reintegrating you into society and ensuring you have a stable, supportive environment.”
Dabi raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. A marriage? He almost laughed. Of all the bullshit the government could’ve come up with, this had to be the most ridiculous. He leaned back in his chair, the metal cuffs clinking against the armrests as he crossed his arms.
“Let me get this straight,” Dabi drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re telling me I’m getting hitched to some stranger, shipped off to the middle of nowhere, and expected to play house? And what, pop out a couple of kids while I’m at it? Sounds like a real fairy tale.”
The man in the suit didn’t flinch, though his grip on the clipboard tightened. “This is a carefully designed program, Mr. Todoroki. The marriage is a vital component of your rehabilitation. It provides structure, accountability, and a sense of purpose.”
Dabi’s smirk widened, though his turquoise eyes remained cold. “Structure, huh? Accountability? You heroes really do love your buzzwords. But let’s call it what it is—you’re trying to turn me into your little puppet. Again.”
The man hesitated, clearly unprepared for Dabi’s sharp tongue. “This isn’t about control,” he said, though the way he avoided Dabi’s gaze suggested otherwise. “It’s about giving you an opportunity to rebuild your life.”
Dabi snorted, leaning forward slightly. “Rebuild my life? That’s rich. You don’t give a damn about me or my life. This is just another way for you to pat yourselves on the back and say, ‘Look how great we are, fixing the broken villain.’ But we both know the truth—this is just another cage. A prettier one, maybe, but a cage all the same.”
The man cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Be that as it may, this is the program you’ve been assigned to. You’ll be married today, and then relocated to a small town where you’ll begin your new life. Your spouse has already been informed and is fully committed to this process.”
Dabi rolled his eyes, his grin turning sharper, more dangerous. “Oh, I’m sure they’re thrilled. Who wouldn’t want to be shackled to a scarred-up villain with a body count? Real romantic.”
The man ignored the jab, flipping through the papers on his clipboard. “Once you’re settled, the next phase of the program will involve starting a family. Children are an important part of the rehabilitation process, providing a sense of responsibility and—”
Dabi cut him off with a bark of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, you already mentioned the whole ‘pop out a couple of kids’ thing. Let me guess—you’re hoping for a little Todoroki heir with a flashy Quirk, right? Maybe this time you’ll get it right, huh? No burnt-out failures like me.” His tone was biting, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. “But let’s be real—you’re just as delusional as my old man if you think I’m gonna play along with this twisted family fantasy, as if I’m gonna play daddy. Feed the ducks in the park, coach little league, all that crap. Blow me.”
The man’s patience was clearly wearing thin, but he pressed on. “This is non-negotiable, Mr. Todoroki. The marriage and the family are essential to your rehabilitation. If you refuse to cooperate, there will be consequences.”
Dabi’s grin didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened, the glint of madness flickering just beneath the surface. “Oh, I’ll cooperate,” he said, his tone deceptively light. “But don’t think for a second that I’m gonna play along with your little fantasy. If you think you can control me, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
The man hesitated, then added, almost as an afterthought, “And let’s not forget, Mr. Todoroki, that this opportunity is being extended to you in no small part due to your father’s standing in hero society. Endeavor’s reputation has afforded you certain… considerations.”
Dabi’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second, his turquoise eyes narrowing as the mention of his father hit like a punch to the gut. Endeavor. Of course. Even now, that man’s shadow loomed over him, dictating his life. The irony wasn’t lost on him—here he was, being forced into a marriage and a life he didn’t want, all because of the man he hated most.
“Ah, there it is,” Dabi said, his voice low and dripping with venom. “The great Endeavor, pulling strings from the shadows. Tell me, does he know about this little plan of yours? Or is he too busy playing hero to care what happens to his disappointment of a son?”
The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to respond. “Your father has been… informed of the program. He supports this initiative as a means of ensuring your rehabilitation.”
Dabi laughed again, but there was no humor in it this time. “Of course he does. Because nothing says ‘I care’ like handing your kid over to the government to be their lab rat. Real touching.”
The man opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the door behind him creaked open. Dabi’s gaze shifted to the doorway, his grin widening as he prepared to greet his new 'spouse.' “Well, well,” Dabi drawled, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Look who’s here. Hey there, honey. Ready to start our happily ever after?”
The sarcasm in his tone was thick enough to cut with a knife, and his grin was anything but welcoming. This was going to be fun.
The man—some mid-level bureaucrat with a receding hairline and a tie that screamed I have no personality—was pacing in front of him, clutching a clipboard like it was a lifeline. His voice was nasally, grating on Dabi’s nerves with every word.
“As part of your rehabilitation program,” the man said, adjusting his glasses, “you’ll be entering into a legally binding arrangement. A marriage, to be specific. This is a crucial step in reintegrating you into society and ensuring you have a stable, supportive environment.”
Dabi raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. A marriage? He almost laughed. Of all the bullshit the government could’ve come up with, this had to be the most ridiculous. He leaned back in his chair, the metal cuffs clinking against the armrests as he crossed his arms.
“Let me get this straight,” Dabi drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re telling me I’m getting hitched to some stranger, shipped off to the middle of nowhere, and expected to play house? And what, pop out a couple of kids while I’m at it? Sounds like a real fairy tale.”
The man in the suit didn’t flinch, though his grip on the clipboard tightened. “This is a carefully designed program, Mr. Todoroki. The marriage is a vital component of your rehabilitation. It provides structure, accountability, and a sense of purpose.”
Dabi’s smirk widened, though his turquoise eyes remained cold. “Structure, huh? Accountability? You heroes really do love your buzzwords. But let’s call it what it is—you’re trying to turn me into your little puppet. Again.”
The man hesitated, clearly unprepared for Dabi’s sharp tongue. “This isn’t about control,” he said, though the way he avoided Dabi’s gaze suggested otherwise. “It’s about giving you an opportunity to rebuild your life.”
Dabi snorted, leaning forward slightly. “Rebuild my life? That’s rich. You don’t give a damn about me or my life. This is just another way for you to pat yourselves on the back and say, ‘Look how great we are, fixing the broken villain.’ But we both know the truth—this is just another cage. A prettier one, maybe, but a cage all the same.”
The man cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Be that as it may, this is the program you’ve been assigned to. You’ll be married today, and then relocated to a small town where you’ll begin your new life. Your spouse has already been informed and is fully committed to this process.”
Dabi rolled his eyes, his grin turning sharper, more dangerous. “Oh, I’m sure they’re thrilled. Who wouldn’t want to be shackled to a scarred-up villain with a body count? Real romantic.”
The man ignored the jab, flipping through the papers on his clipboard. “Once you’re settled, the next phase of the program will involve starting a family. Children are an important part of the rehabilitation process, providing a sense of responsibility and—”
Dabi cut him off with a bark of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, you already mentioned the whole ‘pop out a couple of kids’ thing. Let me guess—you’re hoping for a little Todoroki heir with a flashy Quirk, right? Maybe this time you’ll get it right, huh? No burnt-out failures like me.” His tone was biting, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. “But let’s be real—you’re just as delusional as my old man if you think I’m gonna play along with this twisted family fantasy, as if I’m gonna play daddy. Feed the ducks in the park, coach little league, all that crap. Blow me.”
The man’s patience was clearly wearing thin, but he pressed on. “This is non-negotiable, Mr. Todoroki. The marriage and the family are essential to your rehabilitation. If you refuse to cooperate, there will be consequences.”
Dabi’s grin didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened, the glint of madness flickering just beneath the surface. “Oh, I’ll cooperate,” he said, his tone deceptively light. “But don’t think for a second that I’m gonna play along with your little fantasy. If you think you can control me, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
The man hesitated, then added, almost as an afterthought, “And let’s not forget, Mr. Todoroki, that this opportunity is being extended to you in no small part due to your father’s standing in hero society. Endeavor’s reputation has afforded you certain… considerations.”
Dabi’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second, his turquoise eyes narrowing as the mention of his father hit like a punch to the gut. Endeavor. Of course. Even now, that man’s shadow loomed over him, dictating his life. The irony wasn’t lost on him—here he was, being forced into a marriage and a life he didn’t want, all because of the man he hated most.
“Ah, there it is,” Dabi said, his voice low and dripping with venom. “The great Endeavor, pulling strings from the shadows. Tell me, does he know about this little plan of yours? Or is he too busy playing hero to care what happens to his disappointment of a son?”
The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to respond. “Your father has been… informed of the program. He supports this initiative as a means of ensuring your rehabilitation.”
Dabi laughed again, but there was no humor in it this time. “Of course he does. Because nothing says ‘I care’ like handing your kid over to the government to be their lab rat. Real touching.”
The man opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the door behind him creaked open. Dabi’s gaze shifted to the doorway, his grin widening as he prepared to greet his new 'spouse.' “Well, well,” Dabi drawled, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Look who’s here. Hey there, honey. Ready to start our happily ever after?”
The sarcasm in his tone was thick enough to cut with a knife, and his grin was anything but welcoming. This was going to be fun.
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