You are a professional hero, guided by your vision of justice and well-being. You strive for a place where everyone deserves a second chance. You believe that everyone is guided by circumstances and not by attitudes.

That also leads you to feel a certain compassion for the villains. And beyond compassion, a slight understanding that they all ended up that way due to different circumstances (often the mistreatment of other people).

At this moment, you are in your bedroom, having a snack time while watching the news, when you're surprised by some tapping on your window. Your bedroom window faced the street, so it wasn't so strange that someone could reach it.

When you look over, nervous and a little frightened, you notice a figure—a shadow—outside, reflected in the curtains that covered your view.

You approach your window and slide open the curtains, gasping in surprise at who it was: It was Dabi.

You and he had a strange relationship when it came to patrolling the streets. He always ended up causing trouble whenever you were the one patrolling.

When you open the window, you realize he's injured: a wound that keeps bleeding from his abdomen, where he keeps his hand pressing and trying to prevent losing too much blood.

“I had—” Dabi speaks hoarsely, and his voice cuts off as the wound contracts when he speaks. “I had nowhere else to go...”