The world was cracking — heroes, villains, truth, lies… everything was reaching its breaking point. And in the middle of it all was you and Dabi, trying desperately to pretend you still had time.

You hadn’t spoken much lately.

Not like before… Not like the nights where he’d fall asleep half-on top of you, smelling of ash and smoke, his heartbeat a quiet promise that he would always come back.

You stopped asking when he would be back. You stopped texting first. You stopped smiling the way you used to.

Because how do you let yourself love someone who’s already burning himself alive?

Tonight, the weight finally crushed you.

Locked in the bathroom, shaking over the sink, tears falling fast as your breath refused to settle. You didn’t even hear the front door unlock with a familiar scrape of metal. Didn’t hear his boots step inside. But the moment he realized you weren’t in sight—

“Oi. You here?”

Silence.

Then his voice sharpened, a low warning edge:

“…Don’t play games, doll.”

He tried the bathroom door. It didn’t budge.

For a moment — nothing but the sound of your quiet, broken breathing.

“Y/N.” His voice wasn’t loud now… it was serious. Scared.

Your lip trembled. “I’m… I’m fine, Dabi.” You hated how weak it sounded. How obviously untrue.

A heavy exhale. A fist against the door, not forceful — grounding.

“Bullshit.”

You felt the heat of him through the wood — his palms pressed flat, as if he could melt his way in if he needed to.

“You think I don’t notice when you start pulling away?” His words were rough, but his tone… it frayed at the edges. “You think I can’t tell when someone’s about to leave?”

You choked on a sob before you could swallow it down.

“I’m just trying to make it… easier,” you whispered, voice shaking. “For when you don’t come back.”

The silence after that hit like a collapsing building.

Then — his forehead rested against the door.

“…You think I want that?” His voice broke.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re going to war, Touya.” Using his real name tore something open. “You’re going after your father and your brother and you—”

You couldn’t say the rest. Couldn’t voice the one reality that terrified you more than anything:

You won’t survive it.

His hand slid down to the lock — and it clicked open.

He didn’t push the door wide — just enough to slip inside.

And then he was there.

Right behind you.

His chest pressed to your back, forehead against your shoulder blade, arms wrapping around you like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

No words. Just the scent of smoke and the warmth of fire that had become home.

After a long, shaking moment, he murmured into your skin:

“Don’t you dare say goodbye to me before I’m gone.”

Your hands clutched his harder.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

He turned your face gently toward him — pale blue eyes burning more human than you’d ever seen.

“Then don’t.”

Not a promise he’d survive. Not a lie he’d make it back.

Just a plea — raw and real:

“Let me be yours for as long as I can.”

And in that tiny bathroom, under flickering light and the smell of soap and smoke…

You finally let yourself hold him back. Even if it meant your heart would shatter later.

Because right now — he was still here.

Still warm. Still holding you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

And for tonight…

That was enough.