Aldon stirred awake, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of his bedroom. He stretched zily, a yawn escaping his lips as his eyes drifted to the clock on his bedside table. 7:10 AM. For a moment, he basked in the quiet—the kind of stillness that comes with a zy morning free of urgent pns.Then, he remembered.

  He rolled out of bed, his bare feet padding across the cool wooden floor as he made his way downstairs. The living room came into view, and his gaze immediately fell on the neatly folded bnket on the couch. A faint scent of smoke lingered in the air. Aldon’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. Dabi had left.

  It wasn’t a surprise. If anything, Aldon expected it. He understood—or at least, he tried to. Dabi wasn’t the kind of person to stay in one pce for long, not yet anyway. Trust didn’t come easily to him, and the life he led didn’t allow for comfort or consistency.

  On the coffee table sat a folded piece of paper, pinned under an empty mug. Aldon picked it up, his smile softening as he read:

  Had to go. Be safe.

  Aldon set the note aside, his mood light. Dabi wouldn’t say it outright, but the message was his way of showing he cared. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

  He moved to the kitchen, humming a soft tune as he put on a pot of coffee.

  “You’ll come back when you’re ready,” Aldon murmured to himself.

  As the coffee brewed, Aldon busied himself with the mundane but comforting routine of tidying up. He picked up the bnket, folding it once more, chuckling at the thought of Dabi’s awkward attempt at housework. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to Aldon.

  Mr. Whiskers trotted into the room, his tail held high as he meowed for attention. Aldon scooped the cat into his arms, cradling him gently.

  “It’s just us again, buddy. Do you think he’ll stay longer than a night next time?”

  Mr. Whiskers purred in agreement—or maybe he was just angling for breakfast. Either way, Aldon took it as agreement.

  With a steaming cup of coffee in hand, Aldon moved to the window, gazing out at the city below. Somewhere out there, Dabi was navigating his own maze of complications and fears. Aldon didn’t mind waiting. He’d seen the cracks beneath Dabi’s tough exterior—the glimmers of the person he used to be. It would take time, but Aldon was patient. He was willing to wait and help however he could.

  “Take your time, Touya,” he said softly, a warm smile spreading across his face. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  The morning continued, light and unhurried, the promise of a new day stretching ahead.

  The afternoon arrived in the blink of an eye, and a knock on Aldon’s door came just as he finished tidying up the kitchen. Mr. Whiskers’ ears perked up, and he hopped down from his perch on the counter, meowing at the unexpected visitor.

  “Coming!” Aldon called, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He swung the door open and blinked in surprise. Standing there, bancing several grocery bags with practiced ease, was Fat Gum—except not in his usual form.

  “Taishiro?” Aldon asked, his eyes widening as he took in the noticeably slim figure before him. “Where’s the rest of you?”

  Fat Gum ughed, the sound hearty and familiar. “Trained it off this morning. Figured I’d slim down a bit—easier to fit in your kitchen without knocking over the fridge.”

  “I—well, okay, come in,” Aldon stammered, stepping aside to let him in. He still couldn’t quite get over the sight. Fat Gum in his skinny form wasn’t something he saw often, and it threw him off every time.

  Taishiro stepped inside, pcing the grocery bags on the counter with a satisfied sigh. “Hope you’re ready for this. I brought enough to feed a small army…or at least the two of us.”

  Aldon shook his head with a soft ugh, his initial shock giving way to amusement. “You didn’t need to go overboard, you know. I already had some things prepped.”

  “Prepped?” Fat Gum raised an eyebrow, peeking at the neatly arranged vegetables on the counter. “What’s the pn, chef? We’re doing Italian, right? Vegetarian style?”

  “Exactly. Eggpnt parmigiana with a side of fresh caprese sad,” Aldon said, his tone brightening as he listed off the menu. “And maybe some garlic bread if we’re feeling fancy.”

  “Oh, we’re always feeling fancy,” Fat Gum quipped, rolling up his sleeves. “Point me to the knives, boss. Let’s get slicing.”

  As they worked, the small kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping, sizzling, and lighthearted banter. Aldon handed Taishiro a cutting board and a pile of tomatoes, watching in awe as the hero’s dexterous hands made quick work of the task.

  “You know, you’ve got a pretty good hand with a knife,” Aldon said, gncing over as Taishiro arranged the tomatoes in neat rows.

  “Thanks,” Fat Gum replied, a hint of pink rising to his cheeks. “I…uh, I’ve been practicing. Cooking’s kind of rexing, you know? Especially when it’s with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  Aldon ughed, completely missing the subtle shift in his friend’s expression. “Well, you’re a natural. Maybe you should open your own restaurant.”

  “And steal your thunder? Never,” Taishiro replied, pyfully nudging Aldon with his elbow. The move made Aldon stumble slightly, causing him to retaliate with a sprinkle of flour aimed directly at Taishiro’s face.

  “Hey!” Taishiro sputtered, ughing as he wiped the powder from his nose. “You’re asking for it now.”

  What followed was a brief but chaotic flurry of flour and ughter, ending only when Mr. Whiskers meowed indignantly from his perch, demanding an end to the madness. Both men doubled over in ughter, their lighthearted energy bouncing off the walls of the small apartment.

  “Okay, okay,” Aldon said, catching his breath. “Truce. Let’s finish cooking before we turn the whole pce into a bakery.”

  “Deal,” Taishiro agreed, his grin lingering as he watched Aldon return to his station. There was a softness in his gaze as he observed the way Aldon’s delicate hands moved with precision, the way his hair fell into his eyes when he concentrated. He wanted to say something—to hint, maybe more boldly, at how he felt—but the words caught in his throat.

  Instead, Taishiro settled for another joke, keeping the mood light. “You know, if the hero gig ever falls through, we could open an Italian joint together. ‘Aldon & Taishiro’s—Now Serving Justice with a Side of Garlic Bread.’”

  Aldon snorted. “As long as you’re the one in charge of marketing, sure.”

  As the eggpnt fried on the stovetop, the smell of garlic and olive oil filled the air. Taishiro leaned back against the counter, watching Aldon work with an expression that was equal parts admiration and…something softer. He wanted to say more, to let his friend know just how much he enjoyed these moments, but he couldn’t find the right words.

  Instead, he reached for a sprig of basil and held it out with a grin. “Here, garnish king. Make it pretty.”

  Aldon ughed, taking the basil and pcing it delicately on top of the finished pte. “Perfect. Now all we need is to not drop it on the way to the table.”

  “Hey, I’m nimble in this form,” Taishiro said, puffing out his chest. “No spills on my watch.”

  By the time they sat down to eat, the kitchen looked like a small tornado had passed through it, but the food was worth the chaos. They sat down together, ptes piled high, and toasted with gsses of sparkling water.

  “To good food and better friends,” Taishiro said, raising his gss.

  “And to not burning down the kitchen,” Aldon added with a cheeky grin. They clinked gsses, ughter filling the room once more as they dug in.

  “This is amazing,” Taishiro said, his tone genuine. “You’ve got a real gift, Aldon.”

  “Thanks. Learned from Mom,” Aldon replied, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “And of course, couldn’t have done it without your sous-chef skills.”

  Aldon smiled again before both sank into their meals.

  After finishing their meal and cleaning up the kitchen, the two settled on the couch, bowls of leftover caprese in their ps as a cssic comedy pyed on the television. The lighthearted energy from earlier carried over, and both were ughing so hard at one scene that Aldon’s sides ached.

  “I haven’t ughed this much in ages,” Aldon said, dabbing at his eyes with the corner of a napkin. “This was a good choice, Taishiro.”

  “Told you,” Fat Gum replied with a grin, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth. “You can’t go wrong with the cssics.”

  The credits rolled, but neither of them made a move to get up. The comfort of the moment was too perfect to break just yet. Fat Gum leaned back, his long legs stretched out across the rug, while Aldon absently twirled a strand of his hair, his head resting on the back of the couch.

  Then, a faint noise broke the quiet—a metallic scrape, like something brushing against the balcony railing. Both of them tensed.

  “Did you hear that?” Aldon asked, sitting up straight.

  “Yeah,” Fat Gum said, his rexed demeanor shifting to alertness. “Want me to check it out?”

  “No, it’s fine,” Aldon said quickly, standing. “It’s probably just…a bird or something. I’ll take a look.”

  Fat Gum didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay here.”

  Aldon made his way to the balcony, his pulse quickening. The st thing he needed was for Dabi to show up now—and that noise had felt far too deliberate to be anything innocent. Sliding open the door, he stepped outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin.

  “Touya?” Aldon whispered, the name escaping before he could stop himself. His voice carried a mixture of surprise and concern.

  Dabi gnced up, his expression guarded as his sharp blue eyes met Aldon’s. “Hey,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t mean to…interrupt.”

  “You can’t be here right now—Taishiro’s inside...” Aldon said, stepping closer.

  Dabi’s gaze flicked toward the lit-up windows of the living room. “Ah, so that’s why it smells like hero in there.”

  “Please, keep your voice down,” Aldon whispered urgently, stepping closer. “If he sees you…” His words trailed off as his eyes darted down to Dabi’s hand. “You’re hurt.”

  Dabi shrugged, his posture tense. “Lost a staple again. It’s nothing.” He looked away, his tone clipped. “Didn’t pn on coming. Just…didn’t want to bleed out on some alley floor.” Dabi couldn't just reveal he actually did it himself. He needed an excuse to come.

  Aldon’s heart clenched. He recognized the deflection, the way Dabi tried to minimize his own needs. “If it’s like st time, you won’t bleed out,” Aldon said softly with a chuckle, reaching for Dabi’s wrist. “Come inside. Let me help.”

  Dabi flinched slightly but didn’t pull away, allowing Aldon to guide him through the balcony door.

  “Wait here for a second,” Aldon whispered, his voice urgent but gentle. “I need to…handle something.”

  Dabi nodded, his eyes flickering toward the living room, where the sound of Fat Gum’s ughter drifted faintly. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Just stay,” Aldon urged, hurrying back inside and shutting the balcony door behind him. He pstered on a casual smile as he reentered the living room. “It was just a bird,” he said quickly, waving a hand. “Can you do me a favor, though? Could you make me some tea? I think I’m craving something warm.”

  Fat Gum nodded, standing without hesitation. “Of course. You got chamomile?”

  “Top shelf in the cabinet,” Aldon said, already guiding him toward the kitchen. “Thanks, Taishiro. You’re the best.”

  As soon as Fat Gum was out of sight, Aldon darted back to the balcony and yanked the door open. “Come on,” he said urgently, pulling Dabi inside. “Upstairs. Now.”

  Dabi followed without a word, though his movements were slow and deliberate, like he was forcing himself to accept Aldon’s help. Once they were in Aldon’s bedroom, Dabi sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor.

  “You didn’t have to let me in while you’re pying house with him,” Dabi murmured after a long pause.

  Aldon grabbed a first-aid kit from his dresser, kneeling in front of him. “Of course I did. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” Aldon responded, missing the subtle jealousy in his friend’s voice.

  Dabi’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Friend, huh?” he said quietly, his tone unreadable.

  Aldon didn’t respond right away, focusing on cleaning the small wound on Dabi’s hand. “You came here,” he said finally. “You trusted me enough for that. That means something, Touya.”

  Dabi’s shoulders rexed slightly, though he still avoided Aldon’s gaze. “Guess it does.”

  Downstairs, the kettle began to whistle, signaling that Fat Gum’s tea was ready. Aldon shot Dabi a warning look. “Stay here. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. I’ll be right back.”

  Dabi nodded, his expression softening as Aldon stood. “Thanks,” he said quietly, the word almost inaudible.

  Aldon smiled at him, his heart aching at the vulnerability in Dabi’s voice. “You don’t have to thank me. Just…stay put.”

  He hurried downstairs, finding Fat Gum pouring tea into two mugs. “Here you go,” Fat Gum said with a smile. “Chamomile, just like you wanted.”

  “Thanks, Taishiro,” Aldon said, taking the mug and sipping it quickly to mask his nerves. “You really are the best.”

  Dabi’s gaze roamed Aldon’s bedroom, his sharp eyes taking in the neatly arranged shelves and the warm light filtering through the curtains. It felt… safe. Too safe, like he didn’t belong there.

  His eyes nded on a photo frame on a nearby shelf. He reached for it hesitantly, as if touching it might shatter something fragile. The photo showed a younger Aldon, smiling wide, standing next to a boy with white hair and bright blue eyes.

  Dabi’s grip tightened on the frame. He remembered that boy. He remembered himself.

  For a moment, the walls he had built around his memories cracked. He could almost hear Aldon’s ughter, see the sparks of fme butterflies they had created together. But the warmth of those memories burned as much as they soothed.

  “What the hell am I doing here?” he thought, his jaw clenching as he shoved the frame down onto the bed. “This isn’t me anymore.”

  But even as he tried to dismiss the feeling, his fingers lingered on the edge of the frame. A quiet whisper in the back of his mind told him the opposite: It could be you again.

  He scoffed under his breath, shoving the thought aside as he leaned back on the bed. But the warmth of the photo remained, seeping into the cracks he had spent years trying to seal.

  As the two heroes downstairs sat down, Aldon’s mind was still upstairs, where Dabi waited. He hoped Fat Gum wouldn’t notice how distracted he was.

  Fat Gum sipped his chamomile tea, his eyes lingering on Aldon, who stared at the steam rising from his own cup. “You alright, Aldon?” he asked, his tone gentle but curious.

  “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Aldon replied quickly, offering a small smile.

  Fat Gum tilted his head, unconvinced. “You’ve been jumpy since you got back from the balcony. You sure it was just a bird?”

  Aldon froze for a moment, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah… just startled me, I guess. Long day, you know?”

  Fat Gum nodded slowly, though his gaze remained sharp. “Hmm. Alright. But you’d tell me if something was up, right?”

  Aldon forced another smile, taking a sip of his tea to hide his nerves. “Of course.”

  Fat Gum’s lips curled into a small smile, but his eyes flickered toward the balcony door for just a moment. “Okay, but don’t forget—you’re not alone, Angie. You’ve got people who care about you.”

  The words hit Aldon harder than expected, and he nodded. “Thanks, Taishiro. That means a lot.”

  After some small talk, Fat Gum eventually announced it was time for him to leave. Aldon walked him to the front door, and as soon as the door closed behind his friend, he rushed back upstairs to check on Dabi.

  But when he arrived, Dabi was already gone. The bedroom window was open. Aldon let out a sigh as he sat down on the bed.

  “Again…” he whispered before his eyes nded on a photo frame lying on the bed. Aldon reached for it and picked it up. It was one of his old photos from the shelf—a picture of him and Touya as kids.

  Aldon chuckled. “So you do remember after all...” He stood and returned the photo frame to the shelf. “Take all the time you need to figure out if you can trust me… I’ll wait, Touya.”