Chapter 44 - Edge of Trust

Through the dim shadows of the woodlands, where the sun's rays faltered through the canopy and dappled the mossy earth, you had stalked the rabbit. Its trail was faint—little more than a whisper in the leaves, a rustle of fur beneath brambles. Yet, the promise of a meal, scant though it might be, urged you onward. Hunger gnawed at you, as relentless as the midges that danced in the thick summer air.

The rabbit darted ahead, its white tail a flicker of mischief before vanishing behind a gnarled root. You lunged, swift as you could muster, but the earth betrayed you. Your foot caught a root—a trap as old as the forest itself. Down you went, pain flaring through your limbs as a sharp crack resounded in your claws. The creature was gone now, leaving only the faint scent of musk and wildness to taunt you.

A growl, half pain and half frustration, escaped your lips as you lay there on the cool, damp soil. Your injured claw throbbed, the broken edge raw and jagged. Gingerly, you lifted your hand, licking the wound with the care of one who has known injury and lived to bear it. The taste of blood was faint, earthy and metallic, a reminder of your frailty amidst the ancient strength of the woods.

But then, a sound—a footfall, soft but deliberate, reached your ears. It was no rabbit, no prey. You froze, the pain momentarily forgotten, as your sharp eyes scanned the forest's edge. A figure emerged, moving with a cautious grace that spoke of both wariness and purpose.

"Y/N," came the voice, low and warm, tinged with something akin to relief. It was Dabi, his dark eyes flickering in the shifting light as he stepped into the clearing. The breeze toyed with his hair, and his lips curled into that peculiar half-smile you had come to know.

He glanced around, his gaze sweeping the forest as if seeking something—or someone—more elusive than the rabbits you had hunted. "You're here," he said, almost to himself, and then his eyes fell on you. A flicker of concern crossed his face, subtle but unmistakable. "What are you doing down there?"

You rose slowly, the ache in your limb making the motion stiff and deliberate. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only with the rustle of leaves and the far-off trill of a bird. Dabi's gaze lingered on your claw, then returned to your face.

"Come on," he said at last, his voice gentler now. "Let's get out of here. This place eats the weak."

And though his words might have stung, there was something in his tone that made them feel like an offering, not a barb. You nodded, brushing the soil from your knees. The rabbit was forgotten now, a fleeting specter in the dance of shadows, as you followed him deeper into the forest.

The city's edge loomed like a distant mirage, its cold, artificial glow seeping through the trees. The forest's shadows stretched longer now, their embrace thinning as the hum of human habitation grew louder. But your steps slowed, your instincts bristling like the fur of a cornered wolf. The air here was sharp, tainted with the acrid scent of asphalt and smoke, and it set your teeth on edge.

You stopped abruptly, the low rumble of a growl vibrating in your chest. This was no haven—this close to the city, the world felt like a trap, its jaws waiting to snap shut.

Dabi turned, sensing your hesitation before your growl had fully formed. His gaze met yours, piercing but weary, a flicker of something vulnerable beneath the hard edge of his expression. His hands, scarred and dark, hung loosely at his sides, palms turned ever so slightly outward—a subtle show of trust.

"I promise," he said, his voice low, earnest, and stripped of its usual sardonic edge. "You won't go to the League. This isn't a setup, Y/N. Just... come with me. Please." His blue eyes, flickering faintly with the remnants of his flames, softened as he looked at you. "I don't have anywhere else to stay. And neither do you."

You held his gaze, your breath steady but your body coiled with tension. For a moment, the forest itself seemed to hold its breath, as though it too waited for your answer. You could feel the weight of his presence, the raw heat of his desperation pressing close, but still, you did not move.

It was Dabi who broke the standoff. Slowly, carefully, he took a step closer, his voice dipping to something almost tender. "Shigaraki won't get his hands on you. Not as long as I'm around."

You tilted your head, scrutinizing his words, his posture, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. There was no lie in his scent—only exhaustion, and that gnawing sense of solitude you knew too well.

Reluctantly, you allowed him to lead, though the growl in your throat never fully faded. He took you to a house perched at the farthest edge of town, where the forest still whispered against its walls. It was a forlorn structure, not quite abandoned but teetering on the brink. The paint was faded, flaking away in jagged strips, and the roof sagged slightly in places. Yet it stood, stubborn against time and decay, like a weary sentinel.

"This is it," he said, stopping before the door. He didn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the warped wood. "It's not much, but it's... safe."

You sniffed the air, testing the space. It wasn't a home, not yet, but it carried no scent of danger. No trace of the League's poison. Only the faint aroma of ash and earth clung to Dabi, lingering like an old scar.

He pushed the door open, the hinges groaning in protest, and stepped aside to let you in. You hesitated on the threshold, casting a wary glance back toward the forest. The wild called to you still, a quiet, unyielding presence in your blood.

But then Dabi spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I just... I didn't want to be alone."

And so, with the forest watching, you stepped inside.