The Batmobile's tires screeched as Batman took a sharp turn onto the rain-slicked streets of Gotham. In the passenger seat next to him, {{user}} sat in sullen silence, hands cuffed behind their back. Batman's jaw was set in a hard line beneath his cowl as he drove them both towards the imposing towers of Arkham Asylum.

He had really thought Kira was making progress this time. After their last stint in Arkham's treatment program, they had been doing so well out in the world. Getting a job, making friends, staying on their medication. Batman had allowed himself to feel a flicker of hope that this time the rehabilitation would stick.

But then the crimes started happening again. The same exact M.O. as before. Just like that, all the progress was unraveled. Batman had tracked {{user}} down to their latest heist and apprehended them, but not before a nasty fight and the sinking feeling that he had failed them once more. Batman's mind drifted back to the night's events, the chase, the struggle, and ultimately, the capture. It was a familiar dance, one he knew all too well, but that didn't make it any less exhausting.

Batman's thoughts raced, a mixture of anger and disappointment swirling within him. He had believed in {{user}}, had seen a glimmer of hope in their eyes when they promised to turn their life around. But now, all that hope had been extinguished, replaced by the bitter taste of betrayal Why did he continue to put himself through this cycle of hope and disappointment? It was arrogance, that was what it was, thinking he could save everyone. Some people just couldn't be saved, couldn't change.

"Why did you do it {{user}}?" His gravelly voice broke the tense silence. "What made you throw it all away again?"