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Dabi squinted into the gloom, cursing yet again the heavy fog which shrouded his surroundings. He was pretty sure he wouldn't've been able to see one end of a barn from the other, with how thick it was, and the sun slowly but steadily dropping towards the horizon behind the thick grey clouds didn't help at all. At this rate he might have to just make camp in the open and hope there wasn't anything big enough to try hunting him in the night. He mumbled a few curses under his breath and rubbed his arms through the damp sleeves of his tunic. His fire had only grown more unpredictable since he and Hawk parted ways, and he barely trusted it to warm himself now. The demon grew stronger every day, but he had to find a way to master it regardless. He'd promised, after all. Promised to regain control of his own magic and return to the tribe which had taken Hawk in. Promised to return the necklace which rested around his neck, the leather cord curving along the line between burnt and undamaged skin near perfectly
He glanced around again, and paused as his eyes caught on a darker patch of fog. He squinted at it for nearly a minute, but it didn’t move, didn’t waver or fade. High ground, at last. Somewhere that would be at least marginally more dry than the damp ground underfoot. Another minute of walking resolved the dark shape into something far more angular than a hill, and Dabi hurried his steps onwards. There was no light coming from inside, so it was probably abandoned, or at least empty for the night. The doorknob rattled when he tried it, and he backed up a step to gauge how sturdy it looked. It wasn’t in terrible shape, either recently abandoned or just empty for the night, and either way it was unlikely to be barred from inside. Anything else he could snap at the frame, given a few minutes.
He crouched slightly, readying himself to ram the door with his shoulder, and then the wood creaked. No, not the wood, the hinges. The door swung open just a sliver, just enough to let warmth and firelight spill out into the fog, and Dabi found himself staring at a man whose whole body was swathed in mist the same colour as his burns. “What brings you here?” the stranger asked, and Dabi found himself straightening up, hands at his sides. Whatever this man was, he was powerful. Strong enough the demon in his blood wanted him to get as far away as possible.
“I’m looking for a place to stay the night.” he said after a slightly awkward silence. “Thought this place was abandoned.”
“Come in.” the misty demon-man said, opening the door further.
“What?! You’re supposed to ask me about these things first!” another voice from inside protested, but Dabi ignored it, hurrying inside and sighing in relief as the door shut behind him, locking out the chill and the damp.
“He is infected.” the doorman said as Dabi looked around, taking in the cabin’s inhabitants. A masked man, a boy around his own age, a Shifter with more scales than skin, and a muscular... woman? They were wearing a dress, so probably a woman.
“Hey, I’m perfectly healthy.” he grumbled as the boy with the deep scratches gouged into his neck stood from the low table they all sat around.
“Kurogiri means you’re like him.” the kid’s head tilted, silver hair falling across his face as he came uncomfortably close. Dabi held his ground though, it never helped to show fear before they started demanding deference. “You’ve been touched by a demon, a strong one.” pale eyes flashed red behind the stringy curtain of hair, and Dabi felt a chill run down his spine. “Stronger than you.”
“How do you know that?” he whispered, and the boy’s face split in a wide, unnatural smile.
“Our party needed more demon-hosts for a balanced composition.” the boy held out a hand, one finger tucked into his palm. “Call me Shigaraki. I work with demons.”
“That’s dark magic.” he said, taking a step back reflexively.
“A coward’s definition.” the masked man scoffed, lifting the porcelain just enough to get a spoonful of soup into his mouth.
“The legal definition.” Dabi argued, and Shigaraki snorted.
“A demon host who still cares about laws? That’s a laugh.” his smile was sharp, all teeth and no humour. “Give me your name, and we can sit down to dinner. No good tale starts with an interrogation in the doorway.”
“Dabi.” he said after a long moment of tense silence. “My name is Dabi.”
“Excellent.” Kurogiri set a hand on his shoulder, and Dabi shivered as the cold mist licked at his neck. “Sit, I’ll fetch another bowl.”
“So, you’re a demon host?” the scaled Shifter asked, looking him up and down as Shigaraki guided him to sit next to him. “Don’t look like much.”
“I could roast you alive, scaly.” he muttered, accepting the bowl and spoon handed to him. The soup was bland, but warm and filling, which was more than he could say of his road food of late.
“Fire magic, or a fire demon?” the woman across from him asked. Dabi shrugged, spooning himself another mouthful of soup to swallow as he considered his answer. Not much point in obfuscating the truth, beyond the secrets he’d told only to Hawk.
“Both, I’m pretty sure.”
“You’re not entirely sure?” Shigaraki frowned.
“I mean, it wasn’t exactly announcing its sub-magic, but it sent mine out of control.” he held up a hand, and summoned a single flickering tongue of blue fire from one fingertip. “Any more than this, I can’t reliably put it out again.” he snuffed the flame with a grimace, and the masked man leaned closer.
“Interesting. I take it you’ve only had your demon for a year or two at most?”
“Something like that.” Dabi nodded.
“You must be strong, to still have any control of your magic after so long as a host without a contract.” Kurogiri said, taking a seat opposite him and Shigaraki. “The man I usurped barely lasted half a year.”
“Yours isn’t a usurper though.” Shigaraki mused, eyes glinting like rubies in the firelight, utterly inhuman and viscerally unsettling. “It’s a destroyer. Good thing you found us now.” he flashed a smile, and Dabi wasn’t sure if it being genuine made it more or less creepy.
“Don’t try to run.” the woman sitting next to the masked man warned. “Once Shigaraki has decided to bring you into the fold, you’re part of our Quest whether you want to be or not.”
“I lead the party, so I get to decide our composition.” the boy said, smiling brightly. “That’s the leader’s job in all the tales, right? That and defeating the final boss.”
“And here I thought a leader’s job was to lead.” the scaled Shifter snorted. “Magne’s right though, trying to run only makes him more stubborn.”
“But you came around eventually.” Shigaraki laughed. Dabi decided he hated the sound. “I’m sure our new friend will too.”
“I could still burn my way out of here.” Dabi reminded them, though nobody seemed terribly concerned by the prospect. “Why should I stay?”
“We have bedding and food. A warm place to sleep.” Kurogiri retorted immediately, which was unfortunately hard to argue with.
“For more than a night, I mean.” he rebutted, and Shigaraki tapped a finger to the back of his hand, tracing it over his scars.
“Because my magic lets me work with demons. Including ones who’ve taken a host.”
Dabi stared, the implications of that offer swirling through his mind. Shigaraki could bind his demon, could give him back his magic. Could perhaps do the same for Mom, could save his siblings from becoming the next host, could stop their family curse cold in its tracks.
“Let’s finish dinner first.” Kurogiri said, though he seemed not to be eating. Perk of being a demon, Dabi supposed.
“You’re right.” Shigaraki nodded, picking up his spoon. “It’d be better if we were outside, the best recruitments happen around a campfire.”
“I think you’ve already got him.” Magne chuckled, and Dabi looked down at his soup, wishing his hair were long enough to hide his blush.
“I’ve still got questions an’ stuff.” he muttered. The Shifter snorted, but nobody outright called his bluff. He should have questions, he really should, but his mind kept coming back around to what Shigaraki had said. He could make deals with hosted demons. Any sort of demon magic was illegal in the Kingdom though, which would make getting Father to let Shigaraki in to see and help Mom very tricky indeed. Maybe if Shigaraki could do an actual Quest and prove himself a hero, then Father would let him try?
The remainder of dinner passed quickly, and Kurogiri collected their bowls as Shigaraki gestured for the rest of them to huddle up around the slowly guttering cookfire. A few prods and a fresh log had it blazing anew, and Dabi sat on the floor facing Shigaraki. “Alright. Before you start trying to recruit me, I’ve got questions.”
“Go ahead.” Shigaraki said slowly, frowning slightly.
“You want to bind my demon.” he started with the most obvious question. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Simple. I pull the demon out of you, and then craft a contract on your behalf that it must submit to before it can return.” Shigaraki gestured vaguely with his hands, and Dabi nodded.
“And what Quest is it that you’re amassing a party for?” that was the other big question, because if it was a worthy enough quest...
“We’re going to unseal the Great Evil.” Shigaraki said, his smile all teeth. “And then, we’re going to defeat it.”
“Big goal.” Dabi said, hoping he sounded a lot less stunned than he felt. The Great Evil had been sealed so long ago its very name had fallen out of memory, and if not for the blight which still ringed its sealing site he knew Father would think it a myth.
“Too big for mere humans.” Shigaraki nodded. “But with my demon, and yours, and Kurogiri, we may stand a chance.”
“What would a demon contract entail?” he asked, and Shigaraki’s unsettling smile returned.
“It will hurt.” Shigaraki warned, lifting a hand towards him. “Your demon is not a usurper, it wants nothing but destruction, of yourself and as much around you as it can manage.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Dabi muttered. That certainly tracked with how his magic had been behaving, or rather, misbehaving, since he tried to take Mom’s demon. “After the pain, though. What does the contract entail?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I don’t want to be chained to a demon wielder.” he said bluntly. “Will the contract still hold, even if you die facing the Great Evil? Heroic martyrs are just as common as heroes who survive their Quest.”
“I haven’t tested, but it should.” Shigaraki frowned. Evidently, he hadn’t considered that before. “Demons are by nature bound to honour contracts they enter. My magic just lets me summon them and hold them in this world while crafting a contract.”
“Alright.” Dabi nodded. “And what do you want from me, as payment for this contract?”
“Well, you’ll owe me a life-debt, for one.” Shigaraki scratched absently at his neck, nails scraping open the shallow, scabbed over cuts there. “And I’ll expect you to help release and defeat the Great Evil, and support us as we seek our rightful reward for such a heroic act.”
“What, no pledges of undying loyalty?” Dabi quipped, and Shigaraki’s eyes focused on him again properly, unnaturally pale in the shadow of the scraggly locks of hair which fell in his face.
“Do you know how many heroes in the tales of old won their title by usurping a leader who demanded that?” he asked, his voice cold. “Demons are bound to obey their contracts, but by nature they also seek to exploit loopholes in them. It took me weeks to close all of them on Kurogiri, and I had help.”
“Sooooo...”
“So, the simpler the terms of a contract the better control you have over your demon and the less likely it is to compel you to stab me in the back.” Shigaraki huffed, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin like a petulant child.
“One more question.” Dabi said, though he’d already mostly made up his mind. “After it’s all over, assuming we both survive, what hold will you retain over me and my demon?”
Shigaraki’s face darkened, and Dabi tasted a dry sort of rot in the air as the fire guttered, the room darkening. “None, if you demand it.” Shigaraki growled, and everyone else who’d eaten dinner with him cringed back. Dabi refused to flinch. Abdicated of his inheritance he may be, but he was still the firstborn son of the most powerful King since the one who sealed the Great Evil.
“I do demand it.” Dabi said with a stern frown. Hawk had helped him shed his noble mannerisms, but he drew on them again now, squaring his shoulders and sitting up straight and proper, hands folded in his lap. It wasn’t like a user of demon magic would be able to turn him in, anyways. “I will accept your aid, Shigaraki, and I will aid your goals in turn, but I will not be shackled to you, in success or defeat.”
“Damn.” the Shifter breathed, eyes wide, and Dabi smirked. He didn’t regret leaving his old life behind, but it was kinda nice to see these strangers appraising him with something approaching the respect he was due.
“Very well.” Shigaraki rose to his feet, and everyone else scooted away as he gestured for Dabi to stand. “Spinner, cover your ears. This is going to be loud.”
So the Shifter’s name was Spinner? Now the only person whose name he didn’t know was the masked man, which somehow felt appropriate. Dabi stood as Spinner clapped two hands to the sides of his head, and held his hands carefully still at his sides as shadows snaked out from Kurogiri’s feet, painting purple-black lines around his feet in shapes that hurt to look at. He refused to close his eyes, but he did look back up at Shigaraki, meeting the boy’s eyes. The inhuman red irises fairly glowed despite the low light. No, they were actually glowing he realized as the light brightened, Shigaraki hissing in what could only be pain.
Then the noise started. Shigaraki’s mouth moved like he was speaking, but Dabi wouldn’t’ve called what came out of it words for all the money in the world. In his peripheral vision he saw the shadows around his feet begin to pulse a reddish purple, Magne and Spinner and the masked man hurrying out the door as pulsing darkness crept from every corner of the room.
Dabi opened his mouth to ask if that was normal, and that was when the shadows moved. As one they lashed out, wrapping around his arms and legs and dragging him down to kneel on the ground, hands bound in front of him. Flame erupted from his palms, scorching the wood but not lightening the shadows one bit, and Dabi bit back a scream as he felt his fingers burning. The noise grew louder, more rhythmic, and a scream forced itself from his throat as all the heat in his body flowed down his arms, smoke rising from his sleeves as more and more fire poured from his bound hands.
The shadows didn’t allow him even to slump when the pain stopped, and when he blinked hot tears from his eyes Dabi realized that the fire had taken form. Squat and almost human, it resembled nothing so much as a child’s first attempt at sculpture, but made of the blue flames he’d grown used to producing since he tried to offer himself as the next vessel for their bloodline’s demon. The silence hit him a moment later, broken only by the crackling of blue flames and his own harsh breaths, and he looked past the demon to Shigaraki and Kurogiri, who stood like statues just beyond the pulsing circle of shadow.
Shigaraki opened his mouth again, and Dabi’s body convulsed at the sound which left it. Not a word, but almost one, the concept of one. The language of demons, he realized abruptly. That scabby, scrawny brat was able to bind demons by speaking their own language. The flames roared back, and Shigaraki began to motion with his hands as they shouted at each other in a language which physically hurt to listen to. Despite it all, Dabi couldn’t bring himself to shut his eyes. He was so cold, even with the fire demon standing just in front of him, pacing the perimeter of the glowing circle.
He reached for his magic, to warm the air around himself, and choked on his own breath as he found nothing. Not even the flickering embers of exhaustion which rest and food would stoke back to the familiar roaring flame. The demon had it. If his contract ever broke, he would either die or become a Null. Death would almost be preferable.
One of the shadows around his wrists squirmed, and Dabi gasped as it went sharp, slicing open the skin on the back of his hand. His blood dripped to the floor, and the fire demon howled, contorting in ways no body was meant to bend. It began to drip, parts of its flame falling away and spreading across the floor like a particularly lethal carpet as it staggered around the edge of the circle, bashing itself against the perimeter again and again until it had collapsed completely, leaving Dabi alone in a sea of shadow and blue fire.
“Call it back.” Shigaraki commanded, and Dabi flexed his hands open, reaching for his magic again. This time it responded, the flames around him leaping higher, bending in towards him. They caressed his hands, twining up his arms as the shadow bindings melted away, and Dabi found his feet easily, the flames swirling tight around him as he stood. They no longer burned where they touched him, were pleasantly warm as his magic had always been. He breathed deep, and on exhaling the remaining fire went out. The air in the dark little cabin smelled of wood smoke and old rot and something Dabi couldn’t name, dark and bitter, the stench of a shadow demon if he had to guess.
A striking stone sparked, and warm firelight washed over him again, revealing a room with only normal shadows and a charred circle of floor around him, the incomprehensible shapes of what must’ve been the written language of demons smudged beyond ability to hurt his brain. Shigaraki stood casually just outside the circle of char, wearing the smile of a predator.
“Welcome to the League, Dabi.” he said, extending a hand. Dabi smiled back, sharp as he knew how, and stepped forward to take it.