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

Chapter 8

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Butterflies

In the following days, Katsuki's attempts to visit Izuku at the hospital crashed and burned. The entrance to that damn place felt like it had an invisible wall, one that made his skin crawl, like he was standing too close to a live wire. The prickling discomfort ran through his veins, making him feel like he was about to explode—not in the badass way he usually did, but in a way that made him want to turn tail and bolt. It frustrated the hell out of him, but instead of facing it head-on, he threw himself back into his daily routines, hoping the noise would drown out the chaos screaming in his head.

A letter announcing the return to school next week arrived, pushing Katsuki to hit the Betta gym—the perfect motivation to get him back on track. As he wrapped up his one-armed reps on the pull-up bar the last Sunday evening before school, he realized something was off. It wasn't just the unusual muscle soreness he was feeling; it was like a crucial element was missing from his usual gym routine. Eijiro cranked out his set, but Katsuki's eyes were fixated on the leg press machine, a spot usually owned by Shoto and Izuku every Sunday.

A scowl carved itself on Katsuki's face as he gripped a barbell. The realization slammed into him—it was Izuku's absence screwing up the whole fucking vibe. Sunday wasn't just gym day; it was leg day, a day Izuku never skipped. Katsuki could almost see that green-haired idiot strutting around with that half-and-half bastard.

His scowl got deeper with every damn rep. The memory of Deku's empty spot irritated him like some infuriating itch he couldn't scratch. The mental image of Izuku and Shoto clowning around on the leg press machine painted a vivid picture of the void. Gripping the barbell, he tried to bury himself in the weights, attempting to distract his brain from the mess inside.

But as he pushed through his reps, a sudden flashback seized him. The laughter in his head twisted into pained cries and desperate gasps for air. The vivid replay of not just the collapse but the damn ICU overwhelmed him. Izuku's pale face, the haunting sound of the nurses doing CPR, fighting to keep his damn heart beating—it all rushed back, mingling with the electric discomfort that had been buzzing in his veins for days. The rush tightened the knot of anxiety in Katsuki's chest.

The barbell slipped from his hands, crashing loudly onto the gym floor. Heads turned in his direction, but Katsuki barely registered the curious glances. His hands trembled slightly, an unfamiliar vulnerability creeping over him.

The barbell slipped from his hands, crashing loudly onto the gym floor. Heads turned in his direction, but Katsuki barely registered the curious glances. His hands trembled slightly, an unfamiliar vulnerability creeping over him.

"Hey, Bakubro, you good?" Eijiro's voice sliced through Katsuki's trance, dragging him back to the present. His eyes snapped away from the leg press machine, meeting Eijiro's concerned gaze.

"Haaa? Of course, I'm fine, Shitty Hair. Why wouldn't I be?!" Katsuki barked with a shaky tone, trying to veil his true feelings.

"You know, Bakubro? You seem a little... off today. Docile even..." Eijiro remarked gently between his sets, as if he were treading through a minefield. Katsuki's temper detonated at the observation. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!" He roared, pivoting and smacking Eijiro on the head. It was an explosion of frustration and denial, an attempt to blast away any weakness that dared show itself.

Eijiro couldn't help but chuckle, seemingly unphased by his outburst. "I mean, you haven't been your usual self, not since that day." He said, a touch of genuine concern in his voice. Wiping sweat from his face, taking a sip of water, he looked back at Katsuki with a thoughtful expression.