The soft glow of streetlights illuminated Aldon’s path as he walked home from work, his arms filled with grocery bags. The cool night air carried the faint scent of rain, calming his senses after a long day at Endeavor’s agency.

  It has been a few days since Dabi’s st unexpected visit. He hasn't heard about him since then.

  Stopping for a moment, Aldon adjusted the bags in his hands. He had taken a different route tonight, avoiding the more crowded streets in favor of quieter paths. As he rounded a corner, he almost collided with someone.

  “Oh, sorry—” he began, before stopping short, his eyes widening.

  Standing before him was someone he hadn’t seen in years: Fuyuto. His once-bulky frame was leaner, hardened by the life of a rescue hero. His dark hair was shorter now, and his signature smirk softened into a genuine smile upon recognizing Aldon.

  “Aldon?” Fuyuto’s voice carried surprise and warmth.

  “Fuyuto? What are you doing here?” Aldon asked, genuinely caught off guard.

  Fuyuto scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Visiting my sister,” he replied, his hands sliding into his pockets. “She’s been nagging me for months to stop by. And you? Still taking the hero world by storm?”

  Aldon ughed softly, shifting the bags in his arms. “Something like that. Mostly just surviving the chaos.”

  “Let me help you with those,” Fuyuto offered, stepping closer to take some of the weight. He gestured to a nearby bench. “Come on, let’s sit. Feels like it’s been forever since we’ve talked.”

  They both took a seat, the hum of the city fading into the background.

  “So, how’s mountain life treating you?” Aldon asked, gncing over.

  Fuyuto chuckled. “Cold. Lonely sometimes. But it’s rewarding. There’s nothing quite like pulling someone out of an avanche or tracking down a missing hiker. Keeps me on my toes. I’ve got some stories to tell you.”

  Fuyuto shared tales of his rescues—from surviving sudden snowstorms to a heart-pounding chase after a lost hiker who turned out to be a professional trail runner trying to “test their limits.” Aldon listened, interested in those stories.

  “And here I thought fighting vilins was dangerous,” Aldon teased, shaking his head. “You’ve got it worse out there.”

  “Oh, absolutely. Vilins might punch you, but nature—nature doesn’t care who you are,” Fuyuto replied with a chuckle. “But what about you? How’s life working under Endeavor?”

  Aldon leaned back, letting out a small sigh. “Intense. Exhausting. Rewarding, sometimes. He’s… complicated. But I’ve learned a lot. Honestly, I feel like I’m still trying to prove myself, even after all these years.”

  Fuyuto’s expression softened. “You don’t have to prove anything, Aldon. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Always have been. I still remember how you faced me during the Sports Festival.”

  Aldon’s cheeks warmed slightly at the memory. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it,” Fuyuto said, his tone softening. “You were incredible that day. Scary, but incredible. And after… well, I’ll never forget how you apologized.”

  “I couldn’t just leave things like that,” Aldon admitted, gncing down. “And you… you surprised me too. Apologizing for everything you did back then. It meant a lot.”

  “Guess we both grew up,” Fuyuto said with a small smile. “Though I’ll admit, dating you ter after few years felt… surreal. Like I had to keep pinching myself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.”

  Aldon ughed, a genuine, light sound that carried through the night. “We were just kids trying to figure things out. I’m gd we ended on good terms, though. I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.”

  For a moment, silence settled between them, comfortable and filled with unspoken understanding. Then Fuyuto turned toward Aldon, his expression more serious.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. “About the scars… I know I’ve said it before, but…”

  Before Aldon could react, Fuyuto reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over one of the scars on Aldon’s face. The touch was gentle, almost reverent.

  “I’m sorry,” Fuyuto whispered. “For everything. Back then, and now. I… I hate that you have to carry these because of me.”

  Aldon froze, startled by the gesture as Fuyuto’s fingers brushed lightly over his scar. He opened his mouth to respond, but a flicker of light caught his attention.

  A spark of blue fmes danced in the darkness of a nearby alley, just over Fuyuto’s shoulder. Aldon’s stomach dropped, his breath catching in his throat. Those fmes—he’d recognize them anywhere.

  The shadows shifted, and a figure stepped forward. Dabi. His piercing blue eyes glowed in the dim light, sharp and unwavering as they locked onto Aldon. The air seemed to thrum with an unspoken tension, heavy and suffocating.

  Panic fred in Aldon’s chest. This wasn’t good. Not here. Not now.

  “I… I just remembered,” Aldon stammered, stepping back and grabbing his groceries hastily. “I’ve got something urgent to take care of.”

  Fuyuto frowned, his brow furrowing. “Everything okay? You seem…”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Aldon cut him off, forcing a tight smile. His voice was strained, the words coming too fast. “We’ll catch up ter, okay? Text me. Really.”

  The confusion in Fuyuto’s eyes deepened, but he nodded slowly. “Uh, sure. If you’re sure.”

  “I am,” Aldon said quickly, his gaze darting past Fuyuto toward the alley. Dabi’s steps were deliberate now, slow but purposeful, his presence impossible to ignore. Like a predator stalking its prey. Aldon’s heart hammered against his ribs. “Take care, Fuyuto.”

  As Fuyuto hesitated, Aldon’s smile faltered, but the urgency in his tone left little room for argument. Finally, Fuyuto gave a small wave and turned to leave, gncing back once before disappearing down the street.

  The moment Fuyuto was out of sight, Aldon exhaled shakily, turning toward the alley. Dabi had started to back away now, his expression intense and unreadable. His gaze bore into Aldon, each step bringing him deeper into the darkness of the alley, and Aldon braced himself, unsure of what was to come he stepped forward to meet Dabi inside the alley.

  Dabi leaned against the rough brick wall of the alley, the flickering blue fmes at his fingertips casting eerie shadows around him. He had been in the middle of… something. The details escaped him now. Whatever task he’d been focused on had dissolved into irrelevance the moment his eyes caught sight of Aldon.

  He’d recognized Aldon’s figure immediately, even from a distance. The way the streetlights pyed on his white hair, the slight tilt of his head as he listened intently to the man beside him. Dabi’s gaze lingered, his instincts screaming at him to look away, to move on, but his feet remained rooted.

  “What the hell am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a growl.

  He wasn’t sure why he stayed. There was no logical reason to watch Aldon ugh and talk with some stranger, yet his body refused to move. Instead, his chest tightened as Aldon’s ughter reached him, clear and bright, even in the quiet hum of the street. It was a sound he hadn’t heard for so long.

  His eyes narrowed as the man sitting beside Aldon leaned closer, his hand brushing against Aldon’s face with a familiarity that made Dabi’s blood boil. Something inside him twisted, sharp and hot, and before he could stop himself, his fmes fred up, roaring to life in the darkness of the alley.

  The sudden light startled even him, but he didn’t try to contain it. Instead, he stepped forward, out of the shadows and into the dim streetlight, his boots echoing against the pavement. His gaze locked onto Aldon, and for a fleeting moment, he caught the startled look in Aldon’s eyes.

  What the hell was he doing?

  The realization struck him like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t even sure why he was here, why his chest felt tight, or why the sight of that guy touching Aldon so casually made his fmes sh out like a jealous storm.

  Jealous? Was that it?

  The thought made him pause mid-step, his teeth clenching as a wave of irritation washed over him. No. That was ridiculous. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

  But then there was Aldon—his presence, his voice, his touch that lingered in Dabi’s mind like an ember refusing to go out. They’d only met three times, and yet those encounters had managed to crack something within Dabi, forcing memories and emotions to the surface that he’d buried long ago. Memories of Touya, of a time when he’d let himself believe in connections, in care… in family.

  He couldn’t expin it, but the pull toward Aldon was undeniable. It wasn’t just the familiarity of their shared past, though that haunted him enough. It was the way Aldon had looked at him—not with fear or pity, but with something raw and genuine. It was the way Aldon had touched his scars, not recoiling, but offering comfort that Dabi hadn’t realized he craved.

  And now, here was some stranger, someone Dabi vaguely recognized from long-forgotten stories, daring to touch Aldon’s face, to ugh with him like they belonged there.

  The thought made his fmes surge again, and this time, he didn’t hold them back. He didn’t even think. His body moved on its own, stepping out of the alley, his gaze fixed on Aldon like a predator sizing up its prey.

  The stranger beside Aldon didn’t even register. All Dabi could see was Aldon—and the faint flicker of surprise in his eyes as their gazes met.

  Dabi watched as Aldon started to panic and made the guy leave. That made Dabi calm down slightly, and he decided to back away into the shadows of the alley once more. As he lingered in the darkness, he noticed Aldon turning his head, seemingly looking for him. Then, Aldon started to walk in his direction.

  Good.

  Aldon stepped into the alley, his eyes finding Dabi almost immediately. The faint blue fmes licking at his fingertips illuminated his face, casting sharp shadows on the brick wall behind him. Dabi’s posture was rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and his gaze fixed somewhere over Aldon’s shoulder before snapping to him.

  “Touya,” Aldon said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “What was that about?”

  Dabi’s lips curled into a faint sneer, though it cked its usual bite. “What do you mean?” he drawled. “Just wanted to see who you were getting all cozy with.”

  The comment made Aldon blink in surprise. He tilted his head slightly, studying Dabi’s expression. “Wait… are you jealous?”

  Dabi’s fmes fred briefly before extinguishing, and he looked away, scoffing. “Jealous? Don’t be stupid. That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his voice a little too sharp to be convincing. “Why the hell would I care who you’re hanging out with?”

  Aldon folded his arms, an amused smile tugging at his lips despite the tension in the air. “You’re acting like it bothers you.”

  “It doesn’t,” Dabi snapped, finally meeting Aldon’s gaze. His eyes burned, but not with his usual anger. There was something else there, something harder to name. “I just…” He paused, his jaw tightening. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

  Aldon took a step closer, his tone softening. “That was Fuyuto,” he said, offering the name as if it might expin everything. “We… go way back.”

  Dabi’s brow furrowed, his expression darkening. “Fuyuto? The guy you used to compin about when we were kids? The one who…” His gaze flicked briefly to Aldon’s scars.

  “Yeah, him,” Aldon admitted, his voice steady but quiet. “But it’s not like that anymore. He’s changed. After the Sports Festival at UA, we talked, and he apologized. He made things right, as much as he could. We even became friends for a while.”

  Dabi’s jaw tightened further, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “And you forgave him? Just like that?”

  “Not just like that,” Aldon said, his voice calm but firm. “It took time. And he earned it. People can change, Touya.” There was a hidden meaning in Aldon's words.

  For a moment, Dabi said nothing. His fmes flickered faintly, his expression unreadable. Then he turned slightly, his gaze fixed on the wall as if avoiding Aldon’s eyes. “You’re too forgiving,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “That guy gave you those scars, and you’re sitting there ughing with him like it never happened.”

  Aldon stepped closer, his voice soft but unwavering. “He’s not the same person he was back then.”

  Dabi gnced at him, his eyes flickering with a mix of emotions—anger, frustration, and something uncomfortably close to vulnerability. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean he deserves…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

  Aldon hesitated, sensing the shift in Dabi’s demeanor. So far, Dabi had always kept his distance, a ghost that appeared unannounced and disappeared just as quickly. But this… this was different. There was something raw in the way Dabi’s shoulders hunched, the way his gaze refused to settle, the way his fmes flickered and faltered like they couldn’t decide whether to burn or fade.

  Aldon’s chest tightened. “Touya,” he said gently, drawing Dabi’s gaze back to him. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Dabi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression conflicted. He looked at Aldon for a long moment before muttering, “Yeah, well… maybe I do.”

  The words hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. Aldon’s breath caught, his heart skipping a beat as he tried to process what he’d just heard. Dabi looked away again, the faintest hint of color rising to his scarred cheeks as he turned his back to Aldon.

  They stood there in silence as the light of a nearby street mp illuminated the edge of Dabi’s jaw, and for the first time this night, Aldon noticed it—a faint trickle of blood near one of the staples that held his skin together. The burns along his neck and arms also looked worse, the edges raw and red, as if they’d been aggravated recently.

  “Touya,” Aldon said, his voice sharp with concern. “You’re bleeding.”

  Dabi froze for a moment before brushing a hand along his jaw, smearing the blood slightly. He gnced at his fingers, then scoffed. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch probably.”

  “That’s not just a scratch,” Aldon countered, stepping closer. “And your burns look worse than before. What happened?”

  Dabi shrugged. “Had some things to take care of. Don’t worry about it.”

  “‘Don’t worry about it? This is the third time you had a problem with your staples” Aldon huffed, his brows knitting together in frustration. “Touya, this isn’t something you just ignore. You’re coming with me. You can get an infection. You can’t keep living like this.”

  Dabi’s eyes narrowed, the faintest hint of annoyance fshing across his face. “I don’t need you pying nurse. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” Aldon said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m not offering, Touya. I’m telling you. You’re coming back to my apartment so I can take care of this before it gets worse.”

  Dabi opened his mouth to retort but stopped, something in Aldon’s tone cutting through his usual resistance. He huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Fine. Whatever. But if we get caught, this is on you.” For some reason he felt like a scolded kid, but deep inside he enjoyed the care.

  Aldon nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Just stick close to me. We’ll sneak through the back streets. Nobody’s going to see us.”

  The two of them moved quietly through the city, keeping to the shadows and avoiding well-lit areas. Aldon’s nerves were on high alert, his eyes darting around at every corner. He didn’t trust the empty streets, not when Dabi’s presence at his side could bring trouble if anyone recognized him.

  Dabi followed without a word, his usual swagger muted as he trailed just behind Aldon. He watched the way Aldon’s shoulders tensed with each step, how his hand hovered near the scarf he wore, ready to pull it up at a moment’s notice, while his other hand gripped the paper bags tightly. It definitely wasn’t the first time Aldon had gone out of his way to help someone, he is a hero after all, but the way he did this… it was different. It wasn’t just hero duty. It was personal.

  They reached Aldon’s apartment building without incident, slipping inside. Once the door closed behind them, Aldon finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.

  “Alright,” Aldon said, turning to Dabi. “Let’s get you patched up.” Aldon dropped the grocery bags on the floor.

  Dabi shrugged again, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Hope you’ve got something strong. I’m not exactly easy to fix.”

  “We have to do this properly this time,” Aldon muttered, already moving to grab supplies from his bathroom upstairs. Dabi followed, the faintest flicker of amusement pying on his lips. He couldn’t guess what Aldon was pnning.

  Once in the bathroom, Aldon set up the supplies in the sink and turned toward Dabi. “Undress and get in the shower,” he instructed, taking a deep breath.

  Dabi froze, his eyes widening. “Did I hear you right? Undress?”

  “Stop looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost,” Aldon replied, exasperated. “To prevent an infection, we need to clean you up. I’ll sacrifice my new toothbrush to properly clean off your staples—the dirt, blood, and… whatever else.” He tried to look anywhere but at Dabi.

  There was nothing wrong with this, Aldon told himself. He was just taking care of his friend’s health.

  Dabi blinked, momentarily frozen as Aldon’s words sank in. His initial instinct was to scoff or make a sharp remark, but the determined look on Aldon’s face stopped him. This wasn’t a joke.

  “Fine,” Dabi muttered, reluctantly peeling off his shirt. He kept his movements slow, his usual bravado subdued as he tugged at the scorched fabric. His scars glistened under the bathroom light, a stark reminder of what he’d been through. He caught Aldon gncing at him briefly before looking away, his cheeks faintly pink.

  Aldon busied himself with the supplies, his hands methodically arranging the toothbrush, antiseptic, and clean towels on the counter. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he said, more to himself than to Dabi. “I’ve done first aid before. This is just… more thorough.”

  Dabi chuckled softly, the sound dry but genuine. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  Dabi stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over his body, washing away the grime, blood, and ash that had become an almost permanent yer on his skin. For a moment, he stood still, his arms braced against the tiled wall, his head tilted forward as the water poured over his face. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the burn of his staples and the rawness of his skin.

  Why was he here?

  He had asked himself that question more times than he could count. Each time, the answer felt further away, slipping through his fingers like ash carried by the wind. His life had been reduced to a cycle of survival and destruction, a constant battle to stay ahead of the pain and the memories that threatened to consume him. And yet, here he was—in Aldon’s apartment, letting him py nurse, letting him see more of Touya than Dabi had shown anyone in years.

  This wasn’t like him. He didn’t do this—didn’t stay. He didn’t let people in. Letting people in meant giving them power, and power over him always ended in betrayal.

  The heat of the water prickled against his skin, reminding him of the fmes he had lived with for so long. The fmes that had scarred him, burned away his identity, and left him a fractured version of the boy he used to be. Aldon’s voice echoed in his mind, soft but insistent: “You can’t keep living like this.”

  Living. Was that what this was? Could it even be called that? Dabi exhaled sharply, the sound almost a growl, as he pressed his forehead against the cool tile. His chest felt tight, his mind warring with itself.

  Aldon is different—bright, unyielding, stubborn to a fault. Even as kids, he had this way of seeing through the cracks, of refusing to let the people he cared about fall apart. Back then, it had been annoying, almost suffocating. But now... now it was something else. Now it felt like a lifeline, and Dabi hated that he wanted to hold on to it.

  His fingers curled into fists against the wall, his nails biting into his palms. What did Aldon see when he looked at him now? Was it the Touya he remembered—the boy with bright blue eyes and dreams of heroism? Or was it the monster he had become, the vilin whose fmes burned brighter than his future ever could?

  He thought about Aldon’s hands, so gentle yet so deliberate when he cleaned his wounds that one night. He thought about the way Aldon’s gaze lingered—not with pity or fear, but with something warmer, something that made Dabi’s chest ache in a way he couldn’t name.

  He hated it. Hated how easily Aldon had cracked through the walls he’d spent years building. Hated the way his name—Touya—sounded on Aldon’s lips, like a reminder of everything he’d lost and everything he could never have again. Hated that a part of him wanted to hear it again, just one more time.

  The water ran red as it carried away the blood and dirt, swirling down the drain. Dabi watched it disappear, his jaw tightening. He was dirty, broken, ruined. No amount of cleaning could wash away what he had done, who he had become. And yet, here Aldon was, trying anyway.

  Why?

  Why did Aldon care? Why hadn’t he pushed him away, called the heroes, turned him in like any sane person would? Dabi had hurt people—innocent people—and he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve someone like Aldon trying to save him. But that was Aldon, wasn’t it? Always trying to fix things, even when they were beyond repair.

  Dabi’s eyes flicked to the bathroom mirror, fogged with steam. He could just make out his reflection—the faint glow of his blue eyes, the jagged scars that marred his skin, the staples that held him together. A broken patchwork of a person who didn’t belong here, not in Aldon’s bathroom, not in Aldon’s life.

  And yet… he stayed.

  The thought lingered, heavy and unwelcome. He had every reason to leave, every reason to push Aldon away before this fragile connection could grow into something more dangerous, something that could hurt them both. But the idea of leaving left a bitter taste in his mouth, and that scared him more than he cared to admit.

  “Touya.” Aldon’s voice cut through the haze, soft and steady. Dabi turned his head slightly, catching Aldon’s reflection in the fogged mirror. He was standing just outside the shower, sleeves rolled up, holding a toothbrush and antiseptic like it was the most normal thing in the world. His expression was calm, but there was something in his eyes—something quiet and unyielding.

  “Let me help,” Aldon said, stepping closer.

  Dabi exhaled slowly, his grip on the wall loosening. He hated how easily those words broke through his defenses, how they made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He hated it, but he didn’t stop Aldon as he reached for his arm.

  Maybe—just for tonight—he could let someone in. Just a little.

  “You’re really committing to this, huh?” he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

  “You don’t exactly scream ‘self-care,’” Aldon shot back, the corner of his mouth quirking into a small smile. He carefully inspected the staples lining his skin. “These are a mess. When was the st time you cleaned them?”

  Dabi shrugged. “What do you think?”

  Aldon sighed, shaking his head. “Of course. Hold still.”

  The next few minutes passed in near silence, save for the sound of the water and the gentle scrape of the toothbrush as Aldon carefully cleaned around each staple. He worked with a precision that surprised even him, his focus unwavering despite the occasional low hiss of discomfort from Dabi.

  Dabi’s gaze remained fixed on Aldon’s face the entire time. Just by observing him, he could tell how focused Aldon was on the task. Somehow, Dabi found himself lost as he studied Aldon’s features closely.

  The way Aldon’s eyebrows furrowed whenever he encountered stubborn dirt, the intensity in his eyes as they followed the toothbrush’s movements, and the loose strands of wet hair clinging to his forehead—it all captured Dabi’s attention. His gaze unconsciously trailed over the scars on Aldon’s face.

  This was the first time he’d had the chance to inspect his childhood friend up close. Over the years, Aldon had grown, changed. He looked almost delicate now.

  Dabi cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, his voice unusually soft. “I’ve been fine on my own.”

  “‘Fine’ is a stretch,” Aldon replied without missing a beat. He gnced up briefly, meeting Dabi’s gaze. “As I said, you can’t keep living like this. Someone’s gotta look out for you, when you won’t.”

  Dabi looked away, his jaw tightening. The vulnerability in Aldon’s words made something stir in him, something he wasn’t ready to name.

  “There,” Aldon said finally, stepping back to admire his work. “All cleaned up. Now dry off before you catch a cold.”

  Dabi smirked, the tension in his posture easing slightly. “I don’t think I’m someone who gets easily sick.”

  Aldon shrugged, handing him a towel. “Maybe not. But I’m not risking it. Anyway, wait here.” With that, he turned and left the bathroom, heading to his bedroom.

  Aldon tied up his hair and changed into dry clothes himself before opening a drawer.

  His brothers occasionally stayed over, so he always kept spare clothes for them in his closet. He grabbed a pin white shirt and a pair of sweatpants before returning to find Dabi now mostly dried off.

  “Put this on,” Aldon said, handing over the clean clothes. Dabi slipped the shirt on first, then gred at the sweatpants with visible hesitation. Clearly, this wasn’t his usual style, but his everyday pants were no longer an option. Aldon has stuffed them into a washing machine.

  With a small huff, Dabi finally grabbed the sweatpants, muttering under his breath as he pulled them on. Aldon fought back a smile, pretending not to notice the vilin’s discomfort as he tidied up the supplies nearby.

  Dabi stood in the bathroom, waiting as Aldon cleaned up, unsure of what to do next. His usual sharp demeanor was dulled, repced by an almost awkward stillness. Finally, Aldon turned to him and waved a hand. “Come on,” he said, motioning for Dabi to follow him downstairs to the now-familiar living room.

  Dabi trailed after him, sinking into the couch with a tired sigh. His eyes wandered the room, scanning the neat shelves and small personal touches. But his gaze froze when it nded on something else entirely—a pair of unblinking eyes staring at him from a ball of fur perched on the cat tree in the corner.

  The cat, orange with bright green eyes, tilted its head, its tail swishing slowly. Dabi stared back, his expression unreadable. The cat’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, it felt like some silent challenge was passing between them.

  “That’s Mr. Whiskers,” Aldon said, gncing over as he pced a bnket on the other end of the couch. “He’s harmless. Unless you’re a bird.”

  Dabi snorted softly, breaking the tension. “Figures you’d have a cat. He’s got your attitude.”

  As if on cue, Mr. Whiskers stretched zily, his cws briefly kneading the ptform cushion before he hopped down and padded toward Dabi. The vilin stiffened slightly as the cat sniffed at his leg, then leapt lightly onto his p, curling up without hesitation.

  Aldon paused mid-fold, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Huh. He usually takes a while to warm up to strangers.”

  Dabi gnced down at the cat, his hand hovering awkwardly over its fur before he gave in and scratched behind its ears. Mr. Whiskers purred loudly, his tail flicking in contentment. “Guess I’m not going anywhere for a while,” Dabi muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

  Aldon smiled softly, watching the unlikely pair settle in before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving Dabi with the cat, who remained firmly pnted on his p. After a few minutes, Aldon returned with a pte of scrambled eggs and toast, along with a gss of water.

  “Here,” Aldon said, setting the pte on the coffee table in front of Dabi. “It’s not much, but you need something in your system.”

  Dabi eyed the food briefly before picking up the fork. “Not bad,” he mumbled after taking a bite, though he didn’t eborate further. The gss of water followed, and Aldon felt a flicker of relief seeing him eat and drink without compint.

  Once the food was gone, they both settled onto the couch. The TV flickered on, filling the silence with the low hum of a random movie neither of them was paying much attention to. Aldon sat on one end, Dabi on the other, with Mr. Whiskers sprawled across the cushion between them. The distance felt tangible, yet oddly comfortable.

  The awkwardness was palpable. Aldon stole a gnce at Dabi, watching him recline slightly, his arms crossed as he stared at the screen. He looked rexed, far removed from the hardened, distant vilin Aldon had come to know. It was Touya—a glimpse of the friend he used to have. And yet, Aldon found himself at a loss. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Dabi to open up, to let down his walls? But now that it was happening, Aldon didn’t know how to handle it.

  Dabi, on the other hand, was equally conflicted. He couldn’t understand why he let himself stay here, why he was sitting on this couch, eating Aldon’s food, and tolerating a cat being cuddly. It went against everything he’d trained himself to be—detached, unbothered, alone. And yet, he didn’t hate it. In fact, he… liked it. The thought made his chest tighten, and he pushed it down, refusing to acknowledge it fully.

  After an hour of half-watching the movie, Aldon broke the silence. “We should get some rest,” he said, his voice soft. “It’s been a long day.”

  Dabi gnced at him, then nodded, standing and stretching. Mr. Whiskers leapt gracefully from his spot and padded away toward a corner of the room where his cat tree house was. Aldon grabbed the bnket from where he left it on the couch and handed it to Dabi.

  “You can take the couch,” Aldon said. “It’s comfortable when you unfold it.”

  Dabi took the bnket without argument, his usual snark absent. “Thanks,” he muttered, lowering himself back onto the couch.

  Aldon lingered for a moment, unsure if he should say more, but ultimately decided against it. “Goodnight, Touya,” he said quietly, heading upstairs to his bedroom.

  “Goodnight,” Dabi replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He settled onto the couch he unfolded, the bnket draped over him, and stared at the ceiling for a long while, the faint sound of Aldon’s footsteps retreating upstairs.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, Dabi closed his eyes and let himself rex, the warmth of the bnket and the soft hum of the TV lulling him into an uneasy but welcome sleep.

  Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains as Aldon stirred awake. He yawned, stretching zily before climbing out of bed. Fixing his shirt, he made his way downstairs, expecting to find the usual stillness of his home.

  Instead, he paused at the sight before him. Dabi was sprawled across the couch, one arm draped over the backrest and the other hanging off the side. Mr. Whiskers was curled up on his chest, purring softly, his tail flicking in contentment. The once-fearsome vilin—scarred, brooding, and intense—looked almost peaceful, his features softened in sleep.

  Aldon couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. Quietly, he reached for his phone and snapped a photo, biting back a chuckle. “Who would ever believe a vilin could look like this?” he murmured to himself.

  The soft click of the camera seemed to rouse Dabi. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open and squinting at Aldon in confusion. “What?” he mumbled, his voice groggy.

  “Nothing,” Aldon replied, tucking his phone into his pocket with a chuckle. “Just… good morning, Touya.”

  Dabi grunted, shifting slightly but making no move to sit up. Mr. Whiskers stretched on his chest, his paws kneading the fabric of the sweatpants he was wearing.

  Aldon shook his head, the warmth of the moment settling over him. As he moved to the kitchen to start coffee, a thought lingered in his mind—a small, flickering hope.