Dabi hadn’t meant to stop. He was just passing through, moving through the ruins like a ghost, when something made him freeze.

At first, she was just another survivor in the wreckage, wrapped in an old jacket, hood pulled low. But then he saw the small bundle in her arms—the way she cradled it close, the careful way she glanced around, as if guarding something precious.

His stomach twisted. He stepped closer, barely breathing.

Then, in the dim light, he saw it. The baby’s tiny fingers curled into fabric—his coat. The same fireproof jacket he’d thrown at her once, years ago. And even with his mind screaming at him, denying the possibility, he couldn’t ignore the truth staring him in the face.

She lifted her head, just slightly. And their eyes met.

Shock. Panic. A flicker of warning towards him.

She turned, clutching the baby closer, disappearing into the crowd.

Dabi reacted without thinking. His body moved before his mind caught up, pushing through the scattered people, his pulse hammering in his ears. The world around him blurred—burned-out storefronts, shifting figures, distant sirens—but none of it mattered.

She had his kid.

And she had been planning to live without him.