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

Chapter 58

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Breaking Point

The next two days felt like a goddamn trial by fire for Katsuki, pushing his patience, his nerves, and his emotional limits to the absolute max.

Physically, he was cleared by the doctors pretty damn fast. Yumi had come yesterday to patch Katsuki up though his body still ached like hell, but nothing was broken, nothing life-threatening. He could walk, he could move—so, in the hospital's eyes, he was good to go... but that didn't mean he was about to leave Izuku alone at the hospital.

Not a fucking chance.

Even entertaining the idea of it made him nervous. He didn't even want to imagine what would go down if he wasn't there and Izuku woke up in full-blown panic mode, surrounded by strangers with needles and machines beeping in his ears.

Aizawa dropped by with some updates from the Hero Association, though none of it was particularly helpful. The suits couldn't agree on jack shit during their last meeting, too busy arguing over whether Izuku was a victim or a walking ticking natural disaster. Thankfully, they decided to hold off on making a decision until Izuku was back on his feet, so for now, there were no bureaucratic assholes breathing down their necks.

That was a battle for another day., and That just meant Katsuki had more time to figure out how to shove their bullshit back down their throats.

But while the bureaucratic mess hovered in the background, Izuku had his own shit to deal with.

Since his condition had stabilized, the medical staff insisted on running some final check-ups, making sure his bones were fusing right, that his body wasn't rejecting the accelerated healing treatments Shot's sidekick had given him.

Which—logically—was a good thing.

Practically?

Getting Izuku to sit still for them was damn near impossible. It wasn't just discomfort. It wasn't just nerves.

It was full-blown trauma laced with anxiety so thick it made Katsuki's chest tight just watching it unfold, Izuku hated being touched by people he didn't trust. Katsuki knew that, and he understood why. Any attempt by the nurses to touch him sent his muscles locking up, his body coiling like a trapped animal, as if the slightest wrong move would send him spiraling back into the hell Katsuki had pulled him from.

Sometimes he even lashed out. Not because he wanted to hurt anyone, but because his body was still wired for survival.

Katsuki had to step in every single time, standing between Izuku and the medical staff, talking him through it, reminding him where he was, that no one was going to fucking hurt him. Even then, it was like walking a damn tightrope, balancing between pushing him just enough to let them help and making sure he didn't go into full-blown attack mode.

It was exhausting.

There was this one moment when Izuku had finally been sitting on the edge of the bed, tense but cooperating, while one of the nurses was prepping for an EMG test on the nerves of his hands where the worst of his injuries had been. Katsuki, thinking he had a goddamn minute to himself, seized the opportunity and ducked into the bathroom.

Then, as if the universe really truly did have a personal grudge against him, another nurse waltzed in, tripped over her own goddamn feet, and turned a metal tray full of medical supplies into a percussion concert from hell.

The clang of metal against tile echoed through the room, a sharp, chaotic explosion of noise.

And Katsuki knew. Before he even opened the door, before he even saw Izuku's reaction, he knew.