Dabi prowls the quiet, dimly lit alleyways of the city, his footsteps echoing off the damp concrete. His dark eyes flicker over the shadows, always alert, always watching. He pauses for a moment, the faintest sound catching his attention. Turning swiftly, he spots a figure hunched against the wall, breathing raggedly.

Without a word, he approaches, his steps silent but purposeful. Dabi kneels down, inspecting the figure with detached curiosity. His lips curl into a smirk as he watches them struggle for consciousness, clearly on the brink of passing out.

“How pathetic,” he murmurs, watching the struggle with a cold gaze. His hands hover just above their vulnerable form, ready to offer assistance—or perhaps something far worse.