𝔸 𝔾𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖 💥𝔹𝕒𝕜𝕦𝔻𝕖𝕜𝕦💥

To Every You I've Loved Before

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Chapter 61

Katsuki's sprint to the hospital had been a blur of explosive speed. The deafening rhythm of his own heart echoed in his ears, drowned only by the rush of wind and explosions as he tore through the streets. Shoto, with an effortless glide on his ice, kept pace, a silent presence shadowing Katsuki's relentless charge.

The door to Aizawa's hospital room swung open violently, crashing against the wall with a resounding thud. Katsuki stormed in, his crimson eyes scanning the surroundings with an intensity that could ignite the air itself. Shoto followed in, more composed but no less alert.

Aizawa lay on the bed, covered in bandages that crisscrossed his body like a chaotic web. The hero's normally sharp and vigilant eyes widened in surprise, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at Katsuki's explosive entrance. He winced, the pain from his injuries evident on his face, and the exhaustion etched on Aizawa's features deepened as the chaotic energy of the room intensified.

"Could you knock?" Aizawa deadpanned, his gaze shifting to Shoto. "And you, don't think I don't see you using your quirk in the hallway." Icy tendrils dissipated into the air as Shoto hid a hand behind his back, a subtle acknowledgment of the scolding.

Katsuki, however, ignored the comment, his eyes immediately scanning the room for any sign of Izuku. The hospital room, bathed in the sterile glow of artificial lights, felt oppressive to him. The scent of disinfectants and the constant hum of medical equipment grated on his nerves, reminding him of every time he had to see Izuku broken in a hospital bed.

His eyes darted to the chair near the bed where Aizawa had been sitting, then towards the window. The window, Katsuki noted was slightly open. Izuku had probably slipped in and out through there. The realization only fueled his impatience and the anxiety that had momentarily eased flared up again.

"Where's Deku?" Katsuki demanded, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.

Aizawa sighed, adjusting his position on the bed. "Sit down, Bakugo. We need to talk."

"I'm not here for a damn chat, Eraserhead. Where is he?" Katsuki's impatience dripped from every word, his fists clenched at his sides.

Shoto leaned against the wall, his gaze focused on Aizawa. The tension in the room was palpable, and he remained silent, letting the explosive confrontation unfold.

Aizawa met Katsuki's intense stare with his tired eyes, a heavy silence settling between them. Then, with a resigned exhale, Aizawa spoke, "Midoriya's gone."

The words hit Katsuki like a punch to the gut. His crimson eyes widened, disbelief and frustration mingling on his face.

"Gone? What the hell does that mean? Where did he go?" Katsuki's voice rose, the urgency bleeding into his tone.

Aizawa rubbed his temples, visibly fatigued. "He was here to see me. Talked about some things, and then he left. He wanted me to give you something."

Katsuki's patience wore thin as he strode to the window and slammed it open, the crisp city air rushing in. He looked out, scanning the surroundings as if hoping to catch a glimpse of green hair and freckles. Damn it, he was so close.

"How long ago did he leave?" Katsuki growled, the frustration bubbling within him.

Aizawa glanced at the clock. "Roughly 20 minutes."

Katsuki moved to storm out, his impatience reaching its peak when Aizawa's voice cut through the air, halting him in his tracks.

"He left a letter for you, Bakugo. And a message."