Katsuki lingered outside of Recovery Girl's temporary office impatiently.

Round Face, Engine boy, Frog girl, Ashido, a few other classmates ( he didn't care enough to learn their Quirks — or names, for that matter ) and some gangly man in a suit he didn't know ( but found confusingly familiar ) all made their way out, not having paid much notice to him. He supposed they were far too worried about Deku.

Why did that stupid girl have to go so far?

Subconsciously, his hand formed a fist.

If he had stayed a second longer, Katsuki would have figured out exactly who the man was, as he exchanged a worried conversation with Recovery Girl just outside. But he had used that exact opportunity to slip inside. He didn't, however, notice the man's gaze flicker knowingly to his retreating back.

Once he stepped inside, he realised immediately that Izuku was fast asleep, and the facade fell apart in smithereens. What the fuck was he here to do, anyways? Taunt her for losing to Todoroki? Call her stupid, for forcing herself at a disadvantage? No, that wasn't it. If anything… if anything, fucking Deku managed to win, even when she lost. She helped her own opponent, and lost because of it. Still…

"Tch…"

He was angry. He didn't know why, as he circled the bed like a hawk, ending up right at her side. Her hair was fanned out against the pillow like seafoam brine. Her chest, heavily swathed in white, rose and fall evenly. She looked perfectly at peace, despite being broken beyond repair.

He hated it. He hated her.

"You're so fucking stupid, Deku," Katsuki snarled, hardening his gaze as he continued to look at her. His words, however, lacked the usual venom.

The last time he had been this close to her was in middle school. If he recalled correctly, he had her slammed up against a wall, barely an inch between them. Was there guilt about that? Trying to break such a delicate creature? No. There was nothing delicate about Deku. Never was. No matter how much he pushed and pushed, she never broke. Not like this.

"Who do you think you are, huh?" He was talking to air. She continued to slumber, unaffected by the torrent of harsh words. "What the fuck do you thi—"

Just then, his eyes finally fell to her wrist. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen something look that broken. How the hell were they planning to fix her?

Suddenly, his chest felt tight. Bakugou gritted his teeth together. He had a match in another five minutes or something, the last place he should be was here. His hand furled and unfurled in a fist, over and over. He hated her. He hated her, and everything fucking thing she ever made him feel.

But it wasn't hatred that prompted his thumb to brush against the mangled flesh of her hand, or tentatively reach out to touch a strand of her hair. Those acts didn't dare reflect the poison in his thoughts: for a girl he claimed to hate, as he made to gently caress the apple of her cheek.

"Don't touch the patient," a voice suddenly said from behind him, breaching the silence. He turned and glared at Recovery Girl, who, despite her stern intonation— held undertones of amusement. Really, the young ones were so peculiar.

"I wasn't going to," he denied gruffly, sparing one last glance at Izuku's motionless form. His fingers twitched, before curling into a tight fist.

The elderly nurse, despite feeling a strand of fondness (and understanding) for the troubled young student, hardened her demeanor and raised her signature, syringe-like cane, prodding at the hot-headed teen, reaping a series of 'OW, OW OW!' and a few other choice words, as she all but shoved him out of the temporary infirmary.

"Midoriya has a surgery now," Recovery Girl told him shortly, watching as the blond's narrow eyes widened a fraction. Oooh, should she leave out a vital detail that Midoriya was going to be mostly fine? "You can come back and check on your girlfriend in half an hour."

"Like I care," Katsuki muttered angrily, hands already pocketed ias he made to leave. However, that last comment. . .

"WAIT!" His temper skyrocketed, as he turned back around. Recovery Girl's smug face was the last thing he saw before the door slammed shot. The vein at his temple about to burst, the boy raised a fist, sparking dangerously with premature explosions.

"LIKE HELL I'D DATE DEKU!"

Unfortunately, the entire stadium heard.

Izuku Midoriya finally opened her eyes, blinking slowly. What was all that noise?

"Kacchan…?"