𝔸 𝔾𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕍.𝟚 💥𝔹𝕜𝔻𝕜💥

Chapter 7

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Foreign & Unfamiliar

The following morning rolled around, and Katsuki found himself sitting tight, waiting for Recovery Girl to start patching him up. While he patiently sat there, he spotted a note on his breakfast tray. Aizawa had left a message, updating him on Izuku's surgery completion at 2:45 AM. Recovery had been smooth so far, which was supposed to be a good sign. However, further down the note, it was mentioned that Izuku had yet to awaken. which, of course, more than irritated the hell out of Katsuki.

Soon enough, Recovery Girl arrived and dedicated roughly an hour to working on Katsuki's injuries. When she finished, she handed him a candy bar, explaining that he would have some scarring due to the severity of the injury. Tomorrow, they'll reevaluate the arm situation, and if things checked out, the cast could be removed.

He grunted in acknowledgment, but a burning question clawed at him, demanding an answer. "Why don't they have you heal Deku?" it slipped out, curiosity getting the better of him.

Recovery Girl chuckled softly, her soothing voice filling the room. "Deku... oh, you mean Izuku Midoriya. Sweetie, his body is too fragile in his current state. Any significant alterations to his body might send him into shock," she explained, her voice carrying a glimmer of hope. "He's a strong one, that boy. I've treated him numerous times before. I believe he will bounce back eventually." Figures.

After the old lady left, the rest of the afternoon melted into a blur of medication talk and bandage rules with the doctors, while Katsuki's parents completed discharge paperwork. Gradually, feeling well enough to stand, the nurses removed the various medical lines attached to his body, granting him the sweet freedom to stretch and move. It still hurt like hell but at least he was out of bed.

His parents had brought him the usual pair of jeans and a black tank top. Changing into them was a damn challenge, his sore ribs throwing a fit at every move. He felt sluggish and tender, a side effect to be expected after his ordeal. His muscles were itching for a workout, but the one thing that lingered in his mind was the burning desire to see a certain green-haired idiot. Paging the nurse, he sought intel on Izuku's whereabouts. To his annoyance, she explained that he would need clearance before being allowed to visit him.

"HUH?! I was the one who brought his stupid ass to the hospital. How the hell do I not have clearance?" he demanded. "Um, let me speak to one of the supervisors, okay?" the nurse responded kindly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Katsuki's impatience oozed as he clicked his tongue in distaste, flopping into the seat with an air of annoyance, waiting for her to come running back. His eyes scanned over the pile of get-well cards, haphazardly arranged on the ledge, threatening to topple over. He rolled his eyes, dismissing the sentimentality like a fly buzzing in his face. As if he needed that shit.

Within a mere five minutes, the nurse returned and gestured for him to follow. Katsuki was led to a more secure section of the hospital, pressing the button for the elevator as they made their way upstairs. "We are heading to the ICU upstairs. Your friend will be in room 425," she explained, her voice calm and professional.

"He's not a friend of mine," Katsuki retorted, his hand nonchalantly slipping into his pocket. Technically, he wasn't lying. The nurse shot him a perplexed look, but he wasn't about to spill his guts on the intricacies of his relationship with Izuku.

The elevator climbed, silence enveloping them. But in Katsuki's mind, a storm raged. Memories flashed like lightning—moments where he had belittled Izuku, dismissed him, and sometimes even acted outright hostile. The term 'friend' felt too loaded, too sentimental for the chaos they shared.