….

  The Next Morning.

  DING! DONG!

  DING! DONG!

  DING! DONG!

  The doorbell rang persistently, dragging Dabi from sleep.

  He groaned, blinking awake. Morning light filtered through the curtains of his apartment - a modest pce, nothing fancy, but comfortable.

  He had been up te finishing a stakeout job for Aizawa.

  DING! DONG!

  "Alright, alright." he muttered, pushing himself out of bed. "I am coming."

  He was halfway to the door when a voice came from behind him.

  "Ugh, who the fuck is making that noise?" Rumi's voice was thick with sleep and irritation.

  Dabi gnced back.

  Rumi was still in bed, the bnket pulled up to her shoulders.

  Her white hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles. One of her ears was flopped over across her face. And the bnket had slipped just enough to show bare shoulders, colrbones, the curve of her upper chest.

  She was clearly naked under there.

  "It's too early for this shit." she hissed, her voice muffled by sleep and a total ck of morning grace. "Kill them, Dabi. Or I will."

  Dabi felt his brain short-circuit for a moment before he forcibly controlled himself. He grabbed a shirt from the floor - his, thankfully - and pulled it on as he walked to the door.

  "Stay there my bunny…." he told Rumi. "I will handle the intruders."

  He stepped out, closing the bedroom door with a quiet, final click before heading to the entrance. He swung the door open, his expression a mask of 'Underground Hero' neutrality.

  "You would better be selling something life-changing." Dabi began. "...because you just woke up a very angry–"

  He stopped.

  Standing on the nding was Toshinori Yagi, looking particurly gaunt in the morning light, his oversized suit hanging off his frame like a yellow shroud.

  And beside him was the kid from yesterday - Izuku Midoriya, dressed in a tracksuit that looked brand new, holding a notebook nervously.

  "...." The silence that followed was heavy. Both Toshinori and Midoriya had clearly heard Rumi's loud, decidedly non-civilian swearing through the door moments ago.

  Midoriya's face was bright red. His eyes were locked on the ground like he had heard something he shouldn't have.

  Toshinori, for his part, had the decency to look embarrassed.

  "Young Dabi." Toshinori managed, his voice thin. "I... apologize for the intrusion. We didn't realize you had... company."

  Dabi leaned against the doorframe, his gaze shifting to Midoriya.

  He didn't see a boy; he saw a biological disaster waiting to happen.

  His enhanced vision scanned the kid: minimal muscle mass, zero bone density reinforcement, and a nervous system that looked like it would fry under a 5% OFA load.

  "So. This is the one." Dabi said, his voice devoid of judgment but heavy with cold, analytical weight.

  Midoriya shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

  He still hadn't recognized who Dabi was - not surprising since there were barely any photos of him online and he wasn't in his Hero gear.

  All he saw was a lean, intimidating man in sweatpants with faint, silver surgical lines tracing his jaw - someone who radiated a quiet, terrifying level of aura.

  "Yes. He is the one I have chosen as my successor." Toshinori said, his hollow eyes settling on Dabi.

  "Nighteye isn't going to like him much," Dabi said, folding his arms.

  The name made Toshinori stiffen almost imperceptibly.

  Dabi noticed - but pressed on. "And I doubt you came all this way just to introduce him to me."

  Toshinori expined. "As you can see his vessel isn't ready. The physical training I have pnned will build strength, but that alone won't be enough. He must learn how to move properly, how to endure strain, and how to keep himself intact when the power threatens to tear him apart."

  He took a breath, the weight of the request hanging in the air. "Can you teach him your breathing technique?"

  "...." Silence.

  Dabi remained silent.

  He looked at the boy - the Quirkless 'Zero' who was about to carry the weight of the world.

  If he taught Midoriya even a fraction of the [Total Concentration] rhythm, it wouldn't just help him hold One For All, it might fundamentally change the boy's biological ceiling.

  The [Sun Breathing], and [Total Concentration Breathing]-

  -are the techniques he had revealed to All Might and the few closest to him, which he 'invented' by his own.

  In the eyes of the few who knew the truth - Toshinori, Recovery Girl, and Gran Torino - [Total Concentration Breathing] wasn't just a martial art.

  It was a manual life-support system. They saw it as the miraculous foundation that had allowed Dabi to bridge the gap between a terminal diagnosis and Pro Hero status.

  And obviously, asking him to teach it to someone else would not be a matter of small favour. Especially be unaware whether it will work for others too.

  "You want me to teach him my breathing technique?" Dabi said slowly.

  In truth, he wasn't even sure it could be taught. Very few people knew about it. He had tried expining it to Rumi once - that had sted less than a day. Her temperament wasn't built for disciplined breath control.

  Toshinori nodded. "If it increases Young Midoriya's chances of withstanding One For All, it's worth attempting."

  "Toshinori, I began that method when I was already dying. My body had nothing left to preserve. He's healthy. If he misjudges the cadence even once, he could colpse his lungs from the inside."

  Silence stretched again.

  Behind the door, the rhythmic thud of Rumi's boots hitting the floor signaled she was finally upright and likely armed with a foul mood.

  Midoriya was still standing there nervously, clearly lost in this conversation about breathing techniques and quirks and things he didn't fully understand yet.

  Truthfully, Dabi had already considered this possibility long before All Might approached him.

  If the boy committed fully, his vessel might one day become strong enough to endure the inevitable confrontation with All For One.

  Dabi shifted his gaze back to Toshinori.

  "How long." he asked evenly. "Until he inherits One For All?"

  "Ten months." Toshinori said.

  "Ten months..." Dabi calcuted.

  It was a brutal window, but if the boy survived the initial buildup of month one, the results would be unprecedented.

  "That's actually doable. If he is dedicated."

  "I will work hard!" Midoriya burst out, his voice cracking slightly. "I will do whatever it takes! If this breathing technique can help me become a Hero, I will master it! I promise!"

  Dabi looked at the kid. He recognized that look - it was the same manic defiance he had seen in his own reflection for years.

  "Fine…" Dabi said. ""I will teach you. But I am warning you: this isn't a 'technique' you learn in a gym. It's a Neurological Overdrive. Your blood will feel like it's boiling, your ribs like they're being crushed from within, and the second you try to stop because it hurts, you've already failed."

  "I am still determined!" Midoriya insisted.

  "We will see." Dabi turned to Toshinori. "I assume All Might already has a physical training regimen pnned?"

  "Cleaning Dagobah Beach." Toshinori answered. "Removing all the debris. It will build muscle and stamina."

  For a second, he stared at him, a bit dumbfounded.

  "That will work for a solid base, I guess." Dabi nodded. "I will yer the breathing work on top of that, along with foundational kata. We start simple, then increase the strain gradually." He paused, gncing back at Midoriya. "Though by the end of the first month, he's going to hate me."

  "I won't!" Midoriya protested.

  "Yes, you will." Dabi said with absolute certainty. "Everyone does at first."

  The door behind him opened.

  Rumi stepped out, now dressed in her usual casual clothes - cargo pants and a tank top. Her hair was still messy and her ears were pinned back in annoyance, but she looked more presentable.

  "Who is the sprout?" she asked, her gaze nding on Midoriya. She acknowledged Toshinori with a brief nod - she still only knew him as the gaunt assistant to All Might, but she respected his presence.

  "Miss Mirko." Toshinori greeted, bowing slightly. "My apologies for the early disturbance."

  "Whatever." Rumi waved it off, her eyes narrowing as she studied Midoriya. She caught the edge of the conversation. "You want to be trained by 'Patchwork' here? Kid, you're in for a world of hell. You look like you're made of wet cardboard. He is going to tear you apart."

  "Patchwork?" Midoriya asked, confused.

  "It's a nickname." Dabi said quickly. "Ignore it."

  Rumi smirked, then stretched. "I am getting breakfast. You want anything?"

  "Coffee. Bck."

  "Since when do you drink it bck?"

  "Since you keep putting too much sugar in it."

  "That's because you have no taste." She turned her sharp, crimson gaze toward Toshinori and Midoriya. "You two? I am hitting that diner down the block. They have protein shakes that actually taste like food."

  The pair politely declined, still visibly shell-shocked by the domesticity of the Number Five Hero and the scarred enigma standing before them.

  Rumi shrugged, her long ears twitching as she tapped away at her phone, retreating into the apartment while muttering a debate between omelets and extra-thick bacon.

  An awkward silence fell.

  "So." Dabi said eventually. "When do we start?"

  "Is tomorrow too soon?" Toshinori asked.

  "Tomorrow works. Dagobah Beach at 5 AM. Bring twice as much water as you think you will usually need."

  Midoriya swallowed nervously but nodded with determination.

  "One more thing." Dabi added, looking at the kid seriously.

  "The breathing technique I am going to teach you, [Sun Breathing] - isn't a quirk but disciplined physical conditioning that pushes your body to its limits, and if you try to 'improvise' or force a higher output before your lungs are ready, you won't just pass out - you will cause internal damage, so you follow my cadence exactly or we stop, understood?"

  "Yes, sir!" Midoriya chirped, snapping into a rigid salute.

  Dabi winced, running a hand through his hair. "Don't call me sir. I am only six years older than you; I don't need the mid-life crisis."

  "Dabi-san!"

  "...Close enough."

  Toshinori offered a small, weary smile that carried a decade's worth of hope. "Thank you, Young Dabi. You are giving him the armor he needs for the storm ahead."

  "Yeah, well." Dabi shrugged. "Let's see if the kid survives the first week before you start thanking me."

  They exchanged final nods. As Toshinori led the boy away, Dabi watched Midoriya immediately begin scribbling into his notebook with a speed that bordered on manic. The kid was already analyzing a technique he hadn't even felt yet.

  Dabi stood there for a moment after they were gone, staring at nothing.

  He had just agreed to train Izuku Midoriya. One of the future greatest Heroes. The kid who would one day surpass All Might.

  "Well." he muttered to himself. "This is going to be interesting."

  Behind him, Rumi called out: "Your coffee's getting cold!"

  Did she seriously just jump the balcony and sprint back in three minutes?

  Dabi shook his head, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. He turned and stepped back into the apartment, shutting the door on the looming fate of the world.

  For now, he had breakfast to eat and a Rabbit girlfriend who didn't take kindly to being ignored.

  The timeline could wait until tomorrow.

  .

  ….

  [To be continued…]

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