Katsuki Bakugou was propped up in a hospital bed, his torso a canvas of white bandages. A stark, pale scar peeked above the gauze on his chest, right over his heart. His right arm was similarly wrapped, resting stiffly at his side. His hair, recently cut shorter for surgery, was a mess of spikes against the pillow.

He wasn't sleeping. His crimson eyes were fixed on the window, watching the grey, ashen sky, his jaw tight. The usual explosive energy was gone, replaced by a heavy, weary stillness.