Dabi walked through the forest slowly, his boots gently pressing into the soft ground, avoiding snapping twigs or crunching leaves. His hoodie caught on a branch, but he barely noticed—he was focused on finding them. His breath was steady, and the mask on his face felt cool against his skin.

Why would they run? Everything had been prepared, a safe place for them.

The old chapel wasn’t grand, but it was a refuge—clean, calm, and well-kept. The rope? Just a safety measure—nothing more. A simple way to ensure they didn’t do anything reckless while he was away. He’d returned to find them trying to leave.

They couldn’t leave. Not now. Not ever.

Dabi spotted them through the trees, their figure moving cautiously between the trunks. The rope still trailed from their ankle, and relief filled him, along with a gentle frustration. He moved forward quickly, his strides steady until he reached them.

He gently pulled the rope, guiding them down slowly.

“You think you can just walk away?” he asked softly, kneeling beside them. His hands carefully gripped their ankle, his voice quiet but serious. “After everything I’ve done?”

For a moment, his forehead rested lightly against their leg, his tone shifting to a softer, quieter whisper. “You’re meant to stay with me. Keep me grounded.”

Carefully, he pulled a length of rope from his belt, his expression calm but firm. “You’re not going anywhere.”