Chapter Text
Katsuki
Katsuki Bakugo didn’t usually run from anything. That was a fact as solid as the tiled hospital floor currently squeaking under his hurried footsteps. But this? This was different. This involved needles, and he had made it very clear to everyone on this floor that needles were absolutely not on today’s agenda.
He pushed himself harder, breath short and irritated as he flew past a row of open-room curtains. Behind him, the sound of rubber soles slapped against the floor in desperate pursuit.
“Bakugo! Problem child, stop right this instant!” The strained voice echoed from behind him, filled with both authority and exhaustion.
Katsuki didn’t waste time looking back. He already knew who it was. Tall, tired-looking, annoyingly persistent Nurse Aizawa. The guy meant well, but he also carried syringes like they were candy to hand out to unsuspecting kids.
“No way I’m letting you stab me today!” Katsuki shouted over his shoulder, his voice bouncing off the walls as he caught a glimpse of an open door. He turned sharply toward it and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him as quietly as his shaking hands allowed.
Inside, the room was much dimmer. The blinds were partially drawn, allowing thin lines of soft light to stretch across the floor like pale ribbons. Machines hummed gently, creating a rhythmic background that contrasted with Katsuki’s fast breathing. The scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mixing with the faint smell of linen.
He leaned against the door, letting himself catch his breath for a moment. When he finally looked up, he noticed a bed positioned in the corner of the room. The sheets were neatly pulled up, forming a small hill where a boy lay sleeping. His hair was a soft shade of green, messy and fluffy as though he’d been resting for longer than a simple nap. His breaths were slow, almost too slow, like the air was taking its time to leave and return to his lungs.
Katsuki frowned as he stepped closer, squinting at the boy’s still face. “Hey,” he whispered, lowering his voice to a rougher, quieter tone, “don’t make this weird. I’m just hiding here. You didn’t see anything.”
The boy didn’t respond. Not even a twitch.
Katsuki leaned over slightly, waving a hand once in front of the boy’s closed eyes. “Oi. You hear me? I said keep quiet. That means don’t tell anyone I was here.”
Still nothing. Not a flinch. Not a stir.
Katsuki scowled, placing his hands on his hips. “Wow. What are you, some kind of heavy sleeper? Wake up, Shrek Junior.”
There was not even the slightest reaction to the insult. Katsuki’s irritation slowly shifted into a subtle, uncomfortable curiosity. He bent forward a little more as if confirming the boy was actually breathing. When he noticed the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he scoffed to himself.
“You’re lucky you’re alive. Thought this room might’ve been empty,” he murmured as he started to step back.
The sudden crash of the door swinging open made him jump. Nurse Aizawa stumbled into the room, panting heavily, his glasses fogged slightly from all the chasing.
“There you are.” Aizawa said as he pointed an accusing finger at Katsuki before pressing his free hand to his chest. “You gave me quite the workout. You know boys shouldn’t run off from their injection appointments.”
Katsuki crossed his arms, shifting his weight stubbornly. “Boys maybe shouldn’t, but I do. I’m not getting jabbed today. Not by you. Not by anyone.”
Aizawa stepped further inside, his face softening into a pleading expression. “Katsuki, we’ve talked about this. This one is important. It will help you feel better, truly.”
“I already feel fine,” Katsuki snapped back as he quickly moved behind the foot of the bed, like he was using the unconscious boy as a shield.
“You said that last time,” Aizawa reminded him as he slowly approached, keeping his tone gentle. “But your symptoms say otherwise. Please, just come with me. It will only take a moment.”
Katsuki shook his head firmly, gripping the metal bar at the edge of the bed. “No. I don’t want it. And I’m not going back out there.”
Aizawa sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead with two long fingers. “You are making things far more difficult for both of us, young man.”
Before Katsuki could fire back with another insult, a soft, trembling voice drifted from behind him.
“…Mommy?”
The single fragile word sliced through the tension in the room. Katsuki’s eyes widened as he turned quickly. The green-haired boy on the bed had shifted slightly, his eyelids fluttering open. The faint motion was barely noticeable, but to Katsuki, it might as well have been a lightning strike.
Katsuki stepped closer, feeling a wave of relief he wasn’t sure he should be feeling. “Oh. You’re alive after all. Took you long enough to wake up,” he said, lowering his voice as he leaned over him.
But Aizawa reacted very differently. The nurse rushed past Katsuki with startling urgency, nearly dropping his clipboard as he leaned over the boy. His breath hitched in a way that sent a strange ripple through the room.
“Oh my—Midoriya! You’re awake!” Aizawa exclaimed, his hands hovering anxiously above the boy as if afraid to touch him too roughly. “Stay still, young man. I need to alert the doctors.”
He didn’t wait for a response. The nurse dashed out the door, shouting down the hallway for assistance, his voice growing fainter with every hurried step.
Katsuki watched him leave with a baffled expression. “What the hell? Why did he act like that?” he muttered, brows furrowing.
His attention shifted back to the boy whose half-open eyes now stared up at him. The boy’s pupils were foggy with confusion, his mouth slightly parted as though he was still caught between sleep and reality.
“…Who are you?” Izuku whispered, his voice frail and unsteady.
Katsuki blinked, then straightened his posture. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, letting out a scoff as he tried to mask the strange flutter in his chest.
“Me?” Katsuki replied as he leaned slightly closer with a crooked smirk. “I’m your worst nightmare.”
Izuku blinked again, looking more confused than threatened, his gaze trying to focus on Katsuki’s face.
Katsuki clicked his tongue and looked away, muttering under his breath, “Tch. Figures you don’t get it.”
-
Katsuki sat on the edge of the hospital bed with his arms crossed so tightly that his elbows nearly touched. His lip jutted out in a stubborn scowl as he stared at the tray on the table. On it sat the very object of his dread: a capped syringe gleaming under the bright light, waiting for him like it had all the time in the world.
He kicked his feet slightly against the lower bar of the bed in frustration. “Do I really have to take it?” he asked, dragging out the question with a whine that surprised even himself. He tilted his head toward Aizawa, who was organizing paperwork near the counter.
Aizawa adjusted his glasses and turned toward him with a calm smile. “Yes, you do,” he replied while tapping his pen against the clipboard. “But if you agree to take the injection properly this time, I won’t tell your mother that you ran off again and tried to escape from the nurses.”
Katsuki’s mouth fell open slightly. He stared at Aizawa with widening eyes, as though he had just been handed a life-or-death ultimatum. “What kind of choice is that?” he muttered as he curled his fingers against the bedsheet. “An injection or getting my head smacked by my mom...”
He stared at the syringe for a moment, his expression twisting. His voice shrank into a mumble. “Both sound terrible.”
Aizawa chuckled quietly while flipping another form. “It’s good motivation, isn’t it? You always listen to your mother more than me, anyway.”
Katsuki clicked his tongue and looked away, pretending he wasn’t thinking about the real threat hiding behind the injection. The pain, the sting, the lingering soreness that felt far too familiar. His fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt, pressing and twisting it nervously.
Before Aizawa could come closer with the syringe, Katsuki suddenly asked, “Hey. What about that green-haired kid earlier?” He said it casually, but his eyes flicked toward the door with more interest than he meant to show.
Aizawa paused mid-step, surprised by the question. After a beat of silence, he let out a soft laugh. “What’s this? Do you have a crush on him?” He leaned slightly forward with a teasing grin. “You’re still too young for that sort of thing.”
Katsuki gagged loudly and nearly fell backwards from the bed. “What? No! Absolutely not!” He waved his hands in disgust, his entire face twisting as if he had swallowed something rotten. “Are you crazy? Me? A crush? On that broccoli-haired kid? Gross!”
“If that’s the case,” Aizawa replied, still chuckling, “then why ask about him?”
“Because I thought you might know something,” Katsuki snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “But you’re too ugly, and you look like a stick, so never mind!”
Aizawa’s smile froze. He looked down at his lanky arms and sighed with a defeated slouch on his shoulders. “You really are honest to a fault, young man. I’m too old to argue with a kid calling me a stick.”
Katsuki didn’t stick around to hear anything else. He hopped off the bed and bolted into the hallway with full speed, his slippers slapping loudly against the floor. For a moment, he ran with a smile spreading across his face. But deep underneath that smile lay a knot of fear twisting tightly in his chest. A fear of the needle, a fear of hospitals, and more than that, a fear of the constant pain he had grown used to living with every single day.
He slowed down as he approached a familiar room. He recognized the soft green blanket from earlier and realized the door was slightly ajar. But this time, a loud commotion spilled out into the hallway. Voices layered over one another, quick and anxious, accompanied by machines beeping at uneven rhythms.
“What’s going on in there?” Katsuki asked under his breath as he leaned forward to peek in.
Before he could get close enough, Aizawa suddenly appeared behind him, making Katsuki flinch hard enough that he stumbled a step away from the door.
“H-Hey! Don’t sneak up on me like that, old stick!” Katsuki snapped while rubbing the back of his neck. His heart beat faster from the scare rather than the sprint.
Aizawa lifted both hands as though preparing to apologize, but then his gaze slid toward the open door. Recognition flickered across his face, and slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted into a knowing smirk.
Katsuki immediately backed up, cheeks coloring faintly with embarrassment. “Wipe that look off your face,” he warned with a glare. “If you start teasing me again, I’ll tell my dad you’re picking a fight with me, and he’ll fire you on the spot!”
“I’m only joking,” Aizawa replied gently while waving his hand. “I know your father wouldn’t fire me over something that trivial. Now then, what are you doing in Izuku’s room?”
“Izuku?” Katsuki echoed while scrunching his nose, mimicking the name with a slight twist in his voice. “So that’s his name? And why is it so loud inside? What, is it his birthday or something?”
Aizawa exhaled lightly through his nose and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He’s only nine years old. You wouldn’t be able to understand completely.”
“That’s why I’m asking,” Katsuki shot back, lifting his hands in frustration. “So I can understand. How else am I supposed to know what all the yelling is for?”
Aizawa closed his eyes for a moment before speaking softly. “Midoriya frequently collapses due to a heart condition. Whenever he faints, he sleeps for a very long time. Far longer than any normal child should.” His voice slowed down as if choosing each word with care. “Last year, he fainted again... and he never woke up. Not until last night. The doctors truly believed he wouldn’t open his eyes again.”
Katsuki stared at him, the words sinking into him like cold water. “He slept for a whole year?” he asked, disbelief tightening his voice. “Is that even possible?”
“It is unusual,” Aizawa admitted, “but Midoriya is a strange case. Much like you, in his own way.”
Katsuki frowned deeply, unsure whether to be offended or curious. The idea that the boy had slept through seasons and holidays and birthdays made his chest feel strangely tight.
“Is he going to get discharged today?” Katsuki asked suddenly. His voice came out quieter than he intended, and a small twinge of something sharp and uncomfortable tugged at his chest.
Aizawa looked down at Katsuki’s small, tense hands. A hint of pity softened his tired eyes. He reached out and gently took one of Katsuki’s hands, giving it a warm but firm squeeze. “It’s still too early for that. Now come along. You’ve been running around too much, and you need to be back in your room.”
Katsuki didn’t respond immediately. He turned his gaze toward Izuku’s room one more time, staring through the gap in the door as doctors moved hurriedly inside. The beeping of machines echoed in the hall, mixing with low murmurs of medical jargon he couldn’t understand.
Something about that boy, about Izuku, pulled at him with a feeling he couldn’t name.
After a long moment, Katsuki finally turned away and walked slowly down the hall beside Aizawa, but he glanced back over his shoulder. He caught one last glimpse of a shaking green blanket before the door closed fully.
Even after he walked away, his mind refused to let go of that image.
-
Seven Years Later…
The sound of footsteps slapping against the hospital floor echoed through the hallway, strong enough to rattle the pens sitting on unattended desks. Right behind them came a frustrated shout that nearly every long-term patient recognized instantly. Aizawa’s tired voice traveled through the corridor in a familiar trail of desperation, calling out Katsuki’s name with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion.
Katsuki heard him, of course he did, but instead of speeding up or pretending not to notice, he actually slowed down and turned his head slightly, catching sight of the lanky nurse limping after him with a clipboard tucked under one arm.
Katsuki raised his hand mockingly and shouted back, “Try to catch me, old man! You can do it! Don’t give up now!” The teasing tone in his voice only made Aizawa’s face tighten with irritation, and it was clear the nurse was beginning to reach the end of his stamina.
Aizawa shouted something unintelligible in his frustration before gathering enough breath to yell, “How dare you!” His voice cracked halfway through, which only made Katsuki laugh harder as he jogged backward for a few steps, clearly enjoying every moment of the chaos he was creating.
“Don’t be petty. It’s just like an ant bite,” Katsuki said with exaggerated nonchalance while rolling his eyes. Aizawa came to a stop in the middle of the hallway and bent forward with his hands on his knees, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.
“Are you crazy? This is not an injection!” he managed to say before collapsing onto the floor, where several sympathetic patients rushed over and began trying to fan him with whatever was within reach.
Katsuki didn’t look back anymore; he had done this routine so many times over the years that it barely fazed him. He pushed open the door to his room and stepped inside with sweat still clinging to his temples, feeling the familiar comfort of the space that had practically become his second home.
His room had barely changed over the years, and he knew every corner of it as well as his own bedroom at home. He was about to shut the door behind him when he noticed something unusual. The room next door, which had been empty for as long as he could remember, had its door half open with the lights on fully inside. That room had remained vacant through the years because every long-term patient knew better than to request the space beside the loud, argumentative blond boy.
Yet now, for the first time in seven years, someone had taken it. Katsuki felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over him, an odd feeling that made his heartbeat quicken without explanation. Curiosity pulled him forward until he stood at the doorway, peering inside cautiously.
A boy rested on the bed, tucked under a blanket that reached up to his chest. His hair was messy and faintly curled at the ends, glowing softly under the warm overhead light. His breathing was slow but steady, and the peacefulness of his expression struck Katsuki deeply, almost as if he had seen that face somewhere long ago.
He stepped closer without quite understanding why, and a faint, unexplainable tension settled in his chest. It only grew stronger when the boy’s eyelids began to flutter as if awakening from a deep sleep. The gentle movement continued until the boy finally opened his eyes, revealing a pair of bright green irises that focused directly on Katsuki as though recognizing him on instinct.
The reaction was immediate. The boy sat up in alarm, and Katsuki jerked back with equal shock, both of them stumbling over their own panic. Their voices shot out at the exact same time, neither one willing to give the other a chance to speak first, and the room that had been so quiet a few seconds ago turned into a burst of startled noise.
-
Izuku
Izuku sat upright on his newly assigned hospital bed, his small hands gripping the blanket so tightly that the fabric bunched around his fingers. His mother stood beside him, smoothing down the edges of the sheets as if the neatness of the bed could somehow make this situation easier. The faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air, mixing with the soft scent of his mother’s perfume, a smell he had always found calming. Still, the tension in his chest refused to settle.
“Mom… am I really going to live in the hospital from now on?” he asked. His voice trembled slightly, but he fought to keep his emotions under control. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from forming as he looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes.
His mother stopped smoothing the blanket and looked at him with a worried expression. “Izuku, sweetheart… it’s safer for you here,” she said. Her voice carried a thin layer of fear beneath the softness, as though she were trying to mask how much this decision hurt her. “The doctors will keep an eye on you, and they’ll be able to help whenever something happens.”
Izuku lowered his gaze to his hands, feeling frustration simmer beneath his skin. His condition had never made sense to him. His fainting spells came unpredictably, sometimes every hour, sometimes only once a day.
Sometimes he would fall asleep and not wake up until days or even months later. He didn’t know what was worse: the episodes themselves, or the helplessness that followed. He wanted to be strong, to be normal, to be awake long enough to enjoy life like any other kid. But every time he tried, his body failed him without warning.
“I know I’m not normal,” he said quietly. His fingers tugged at the blanket as he spoke. “And I know there’s something wrong with me that nobody understands, but… it doesn’t feel good to be stuck here forever. I want to go outside and go to school like everyone else. I want to make friends too.”
He kept his eyes down, unable to bring himself to look at his mother. He didn’t want her to see the disappointment or the sadness he couldn’t hide. He knew she was only doing what she thought was best, but it didn’t make the situation any easier.
His mother knelt in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek as she tried to smile. “Izuku… I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thin and shaky. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I’ll visit every week, I promise.”
Her eyes glistened as she reached out to brush his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll be really busy from now on with work, so please take care of yourself. I know you hate being here, but… you need it.”
Izuku lifted his face slightly, noticing the way her lips trembled as she spoke, like she was holding herself back from crying. The sight made his chest ache. He didn’t want to see her break down. He didn’t want to be the reason she cried again.
He understood too well what she was trying to do. She was distancing herself, slowly and painfully, because she didn’t know how much time they had left together. The thought made him swallow hard.
He closed his eyes and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a tight hug. She embraced him just as firmly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling back abruptly, as though leaving quickly made it easier for both of them. She murmured a soft goodbye and hurried out of the room before her tears could fall in front of him.
After she left, Izuku remained seated for a moment, staring at the door she had walked through. He wasn’t angry at her. He wasn’t angry at anyone. He was simply sad—sad for himself, sad for the time he might not have, sad for how lonely everything suddenly felt.
When he finally lay down on the bed, he reached for the small phone beside him and placed an earbud in one ear. Soft music filled his mind, creating a small bubble of comfort that eased the tension in his chest. He closed his eyes as he listened, letting the melody lull him deeper into relaxation.
Eventually, his breathing evened out. His body felt heavy. He was used to drifting off like this, unsure whether he would wake up in an hour or next month, but he found some small relief in the fact that his mother had gotten him a softer bed this time. If he had to sleep for days on end, at least it wouldn’t hurt his back.
Just as he felt himself slipping away from reality, he sensed something strange, warm air brushing his face, almost like someone was leaning very close to him. His eyebrows twitched slightly, and a faint frown formed on his lips. He thought for a moment that maybe his mother had forgotten something and returned to check on him, though he couldn’t understand why she would be standing so near his face.
He slowly opened his eyes, still half-dazed from the pull of sleep. The first thing he saw was a pair of red eyes staring directly at him from an uncomfortably close distance. His heart jolted violently, and the sudden shock tore through whatever sleepiness he felt. The face looming above him belonged to a blond boy with wild hair and an expression caught between curiosity and annoyance.
Izuku’s scream shot into the air instantly, loud and shrill enough to rattle the bed frame. “W-What—who are you?! Why are you in my room?!” he shouted as he scrambled back, his body pressing into the headboard.
He reached blindly for the nearest object he could find, which happened to be one of his hospital slippers. He grabbed it and aimed it at the boy, shaking with fear and indignation.
The blond’s eyes widened, and without waiting for Izuku to throw anything, he scrambled away from the bed and dashed out of the room in a full sprint. Izuku hurled the slipper anyway, but it hit the doorframe instead of the escaping intruder.
“Weirdo,” he muttered under his breath as he hurriedly got up and rushed to the door. He shut it firmly and turned the lock with trembling fingers, double-checking that it was truly sealed before stepping away from it. Only then did he breathe out shakily and press a hand to his racing heart.
It figured that on his first day here, he’d already encountered someone strange enough to sneak into his room and stare at him while he slept. Up until now, Izuku had thought his biggest worry would be his condition.
-
Izuku leaned his back against the door after locking it, still breathing a bit fast from the shock. The slipper he had used as a weapon lay abandoned by the foot of his bed, and he stared at it for a moment before shaking his head slowly.
Judging from the orange jacket the boy had been wearing, bright, oversized, and definitely not part of hospital staff uniforms, Izukum could only assume that he was a patient here too. The boy didn’t look sick, at least not at first glance, but the red eyes and erratic energy told Izuku that something about him was… unusual. Maybe unusual enough to belong here.
He sighed quietly and rubbed his forehead. That orange jacket really was striking, and although he refused to admit it out loud, it did make the blond look a little cute. Just a little. Izuku frowned immediately at the thought, annoyed that even in a place as hopeless as a hospital, he had to deal with weirdos sneaking into his room.
If that boy tried entering again, Izuku promised himself he would willingly throw the slipper at his face next time rather than miss.
As the silence settled back over the room, Izuku noticed for the first time how dull the place looked. The walls were bare except for a calendar, the shelves were empty, and the entire room felt almost as lifeless as his own situation. He figured that if he was going to live here, even temporarily, he should at least do something to make the space feel more like home.
He opened his duffel bag and began taking out his My Hero University merchandise. Posters he had collected for years, small banners he used to hang on his bedroom walls, and figurines he had kept safe inside their boxes. Placing the first poster on the wall gave him a small spark of happiness, enough to make him continue decorating with a little more excitement. Soon, the shelves were lined with figurines, and the walls proudly held his favorite heroes in colorful displays.
While he was reaching into his bag for another item, he heard a knock on the door. He startled a little, immediately grabbing the slippers again as a precaution. His heart fluttered with dread at the possibility that the blond boy might have returned. A gentle voice called from the hallway telling him to open the door, and Izuku cracked it open just enough to see who it was. Relief washed through him when he saw an older nurse standing there instead of the intruder from earlier.
“Hello,” the nurse said with a polite nod. He had tired eyes but a kind expression. “I’ll have to remind you that locking your room is against hospital regulations.”
Izuku flushed in embarrassment, gripping the door weakly. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to break any rules. It’s just… this weird guy came into my room earlier without permission, and I got scared.”
The nurse scratched his head with a resigned sigh, his expression suggesting that this wasn’t the first time he had heard something like that. “Let me guess,” he began, tilting his head slightly, “tall kid, blond hair, red eyes, unpredictable expressions?”
Izuku stared at him with widened eyes at how accurately the nurse described the intruder. “Yes, exactly like that,” he replied quickly, his shock evident.
A soft laugh escaped the nurse as he waved his hand in understanding. “That weirdo is named Katsuki. Don’t worry, he’s harmless even though he looks like he would bite someone.” His tone was light, but something about the familiarity in his words made Izuku wonder how long this nurse had been dealing with that blond troublemaker.
He couldn’t help but question in his head whether the two of them were close or if Katsuki had simply been a long-term patient here, just like he was about to be.
Before Izuku could ask anything, a loud voice from the room next door carried through the hallway. “I heard that, old man!” the voice yelled, sounding offended.
The nurse didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “It’s true, though,” he called back casually, before turning to Izuku again. At that moment, Izuku realized that Katsuki was his next-door neighbor, and a quiet sense of defeat settled heavily in his stomach. He didn’t know what he had done in his past life to deserve being placed beside a living noise machine, but apparently fate had decided this for him.
The nurse cleared his throat and offered Izuku another small smile. “By the way, my name is Aizawa. I’m the head nurse of this ward. If you ever have any concerns or need help with anything, you can always call for me. I’ll also be bringing your daily medications, so we’ll see each other often.” He stepped further inside the room, taking a moment to look around before asking, “Are you feeling alright right now? Is the room to your liking?”
Izuku wasn’t sure how to answer at first. Although Aizawa seemed friendly, he talked a bit too much for Izuku’s taste, especially when Izuku was still adjusting to his first day here. Eventually, he shook his head and spoke softly, choosing honesty despite his discomfort.
“I’m… not okay. I don’t really like being in hospitals, and I wish things were different. But I don’t have a choice. Still… thank you for asking.” He tried to smile as naturally as he could, though it was faint and forced.
Aizawa studied his face gently and responded, “If you’re not okay, then how are you still able to smile like that? If you didn’t tell me you disliked being here, I would have thought you were happy about it.” He placed a comforting hand on Izuku’s shoulder and added, “You’re not alone in this. All the patients here feel the same way. Being here isn’t easy for anyone.”
Izuku nodded slowly, somewhat comforted by the thought that he wasn’t the only one who struggled. He figured he should find something to entertain himself with during the long days ahead, so he asked, “Um… would it be possible to get some notebooks? I like writing and drawing, so I thought maybe it would help pass the time.”
Aizawa’s face brightened at the request. “Of course. I’ll bring some from the supply room in a little bit,” he said, already stepping back toward the hallway. “In the meantime, why don’t you dress into the hospital clothes we provided? If you stay in your casual clothes, people might mistake you for a visitor.”
He gave Izuku a gentle wave before leaving the room quietly, closing the door behind him.
Izuku looked down at the formal clothes he still had on, realizing that this would be the last time he could wear anything of his own for a while. He brushed his fingers over the fabric one more time before letting out a soft sigh. He picked up the folded hospital uniform from his bed and began to change into it slowly, feeling the weight of the situation settle deeper into his chest. With each button he fastened, the reality of living here became clearer.
Still, he reminded himself that he would try to make the best out of it, even if life had just placed him beside a strange, loud blond boy with unsettlingly bright red eyes.
-
By six in the evening, Izuku finally felt the weight of the long day settling on his shoulders. It had been only nine hours since he’d officially been admitted, yet the hospital already felt strangely familiar, almost as if time inside this place moved differently. Aizawa had already delivered the notebooks Izuku requested. They were neatly stacked on the bedside table, blank and full of possibility.
Izuku stared at the empty first page for nearly ten minutes, unsure where to begin. He wanted to write something heartfelt or meaningful, something that might help him cope with the next few years he would be living here, but his thoughts felt too disorganized to capture.
He set the notebook aside for the moment and leaned back against his pillows, closing his eyes briefly as he listened to the quiet hum of the room. Before he could collect his thoughts again, a voice came from outside his door, muffled but recognizable enough to make him sit up. Someone said it was time to eat.
Izuku blinked in confusion, then walked over and opened the door halfway. Standing there, with the same unimpressed expression and messy blond hair as earlier, was the weird boy who had startled him in his sleep.
Izuku felt his body tense. It wasn’t fear exactly, but something about this boy made him freeze in place despite his usual friendliness. “Um… where do we eat?” Izuku asked cautiously. “Doesn’t Nurse Aizawa usually bring the food to the rooms?”
The blond stared back at him with a sharp, unreadable look. Izuku tried to give him a small smile out of habit, but nothing came out. For some reason, smiling at this boy felt impossible. Then again, the blond didn’t smile at him either, so Izuku didn’t see the point in trying too hard.
“Everyone eats in the hall at the same time,” the blond answered. His tone was cold and distant, as if the conversation bored him. “If you want to eat alone here, then fine. Do whatever.” His words were clipped, his posture stiff, and Izuku immediately felt his irritation rise.
He already didn’t like this guy. He was rude, grumpy, and difficult to talk to. But as Izuku looked back into his empty room, realizing how sad it felt to imagine eating alone every day for years, he quickly made a decision. Grumpy or not, being alone was worse.
“Wait up!” he called as the blond turned to leave. He rushed to put on his slippers and grabbed his thin jacket, sliding it on before stepping out of the room. When he opened the door fully, he found the blond already staring at him again, eyebrows furrowed like Izuku had done something strange.
Izuku blinked, confused. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
The blond pointed inside Izuku’s room. “Aren’t you gonna turn that thing off?” he asked while gesturing toward the small speaker still playing softly on the shelf.
“Oh—wait, right,” Izuku muttered. He hurried back inside and reached to turn it off, but instead of stopping the music completely, it skipped to a new song from his My Hero University playlist. The energetic melody filled the room, and Izuku winced in embarrassment. “Oops. Hold on, I’ll turn it off—”
Before he could press the button, the blond stepped in and switched it off himself. “Was that an anime song?” he asked, raising an eyebrow sharply. “Seriously?”
Izuku frowned at him. “Hey, that was rude. I was going to turn it off myself.”
“You’re crazy,” the blond shot back with a scoff. “You clearly don’t know what you’re doing. Come on, we should leave before she gets here.” He grabbed Izuku’s arm without hesitation, his grip firm but not painful, like he was in a hurry to get them both out safely.
Izuku stared at him in confusion, letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want trouble. “Before who gets here?” he asked quietly, wondering if he really was the crazy one for following this unpredictable boy.
His question was answered immediately when he looked toward the doorway and saw her.
A girl stood blocking the exit, her presence so intense that Izuku felt goosebumps rise across his skin. Her hair was messy and wild, her eyes sharp as though she hadn’t blinked in hours. She wore hospital clothing that was slightly wrinkled, giving the impression she had either run a marathon or escaped from somewhere she shouldn’t have. Her expression carried no warmth, and Izuku felt a chill run through him.
The blond cursed under his breath. “Great. She’s already here,” he muttered, stepping in front of Izuku instinctively, almost protectively. “We’re doomed.”
The girl squinted at them. “Was that a My Hero University song I just heard?” she asked in a flat tone, but Izuku sensed a dangerous excitement underneath her voice.
Izuku’s heart thumped loudly as he peeked from behind the blond, trying to answer without angering her. He nodded slowly, unsure if this was the wrong move.
Immediately, the girl placed a hand dramatically over her chest and bit her bottom lip in excitement, her eyes lighting up in a way that made Izuku even more nervous. “Are you Uravity biased?” she shouted, practically vibrating with energy.
Izuku quickly shook his head. “N-no, I'm Jirou biased,” he replied, hoping that answering correctly would calm her down.
The girl’s expression shifted into a wild, cheerful smile. “You should have said so earlier!” she exclaimed. “Come to my room 066 if you want to listen to My Hero University with me later!” She waved enthusiastically. “I’m Toga Himiko! Nice to meet you!”
Room 066? Izuku felt a cold chill. That sounded more like room 666 with how chaotic she seemed, but he forced himself to smile politely. “Um… sure,” he replied, trying to not look terrified. “I’m Izuku Midor—”
He was cut off abruptly when the blond beside him stiffened and turned to face him fully. “You’re Midoriya?” he demanded as if Izuku had personally offended him.
Izuku stared back at him in confusion, wondering why his name mattered so much. In his head, he could only think one thing: What is his problem now?
But before he could respond, he felt his eyelids closing. Getting dizzy all of a sudden and in an instant, blacks out and faints.
-
Aizawa guided them through the hallway without saying much, though Izuku could see a faint relief in the nurse’s tired eyes. It seemed he had been waiting for them to finally reach the dining area, especially with Katsuki and Himiko causing noise from three rooms away. Aizawa opened a door at the end of the hall, revealing a surprising space, spacious enough to match Izuku’s own room, but warmer and dimmer in its lighting.
Izuku stepped inside and immediately noticed a large blanket spread neatly across the polished floor like a picnic set-up. Plates and containers full of food sat in the middle, steaming gently, and the sight alone eased some of Izuku’s nervousness.
Aizawa turned to him with his usual sleepy expression. “Are you alright sitting on the floor?” he asked.
Izuku nodded with a small smile that came more naturally this time. “Yes, it’s okay.” It actually looked inviting, much less formal than a hospital tray next to a stiff bed.
Before he could settle in, a calm voice greeted him from the side. “Welcome. You must be the new kid.”
Izuku turned to see a boy sitting near one edge of the blanket. His hair was divided in color, white on one side and a deep red on the other. His eyes reflected the same pattern: one blue, one gray, and a faint scar traced down from the corner of his left, bluer eye. Despite the unusual appearance, his expression was soft and composed.
Izuku returned the greeting with a warm smile. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” From all the introductions he’d experienced today, this boy, this gentle-looking, calm boy, was definitely the most normal person he had encountered.
Before he could take another step closer, fingers suddenly hooked around the back of his shirt and pulled him down. “Sit down!” Himiko exclaimed, tugging him onto the blanket with an excitement that startled him. Izuku landed ungracefully on the soft fabric and quickly steadied himself. Himiko sat beside him, eyes shining with a slightly manic energy that made Izuku both nervous and strangely relieved; at least she was enthusiastic.
Still, her next words sent a sharp chill through him. She leaned toward his ear and whispered in a voice that dropped several shades darker, “If you ever decide to be an Uravity biased, I won’t hesitate to stab you over and over until you bleed out on the floor.” Her face was completely serious, and Izuku’s heart thumped wildly, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes widened.
He stared at her nervously. “Y-Yes, ma’am,” he muttered with a stiff nod, fully understanding that this was not a girl he wanted to test.
Himiko giggled a second later, almost sweetly, as if she hadn’t just threatened his life. “You’re such a weird guy. Fainting out of nowhere like that,” she added as she picked up a piece of chicken from the bowl.
Before Izuku could even respond, the blonde guy, who sat beside the calm boy with his arms crossed, picked up a chicken fillet and threw it at Himiko’s face without hesitation. “Shut up,” he muttered loudly.
Himiko flinched, blinking as the fillet bounced off her cheek and fell into her lap. She wiped the crumbs and smudges away with a pouty frown. “Ow! Katsuki, that hurt… Izuku really is strange, but also amazing,” she said while dusting herself off.
Izuku looked at Katsuki for a moment. The blond still seemed irritated, but the way he acted almost felt… familiar. Izuku remembered the nurse saying his name earlier, Katsuki. It was a cute name, Izuku admitted to himself, though he shook the thought away immediately, embarrassed even in his own mind.
He ended up sitting between Aizawa and Himiko. He felt relief that he wasn’t placed beside Katsuki; the grumpy blond sat between Himiko and the quiet boy with heterochromia, still glaring at his food as if offended by its existence. Izuku wondered if Katsuki was always like that or if he was simply having one of those days.
Once everyone settled, Aizawa finally straightened a little. “Starting today,” he said, poking his finger lazily at each of them in turn, “the four of you will be eating together. The more, the merrier, or something like that.” He pointed first to Izuku, then to Himiko, then Katsuki, and finally to the calm boy. “For now, the only patients admitted in this ward are you four. Izuku, Himiko, Katsuki, and Shoto.”
Izuku felt a warmth spread across his chest. It had been so long since he had sat in a group. The idea of having companions, even if one threatened to stab him and another looked constantly irritated, filled him with a timid happiness. He glanced at Shoto again, who offered him a small nod of acknowledgement, gentle and sincere.
Izuku thought to himself that Shoto seemed nice. Aizawa was blunt but comforting in his own way. Himiko… never mind, he couldn’t figure her out. And Katsuki? He still wasn’t sure, but maybe there was something decent under all that loudness.
Shoto turned slightly toward the blond beside him and asked quietly, “Why are you so quiet all of a sudden, Katsuki?”
All eyes shifted toward Katsuki. Izuku was confused. Wasn’t Katsuki always like this? Quiet and grumpy seemed like his standard personality. Still, everyone waited for his answer. Aizawa laughs slowly at everyone’s reaction.
Before Katsuki could say anything, a chicken fillet flew across the blanket and hit Aizawa squarely in the face.
Aizawa didn’t visibly react for a moment. Izuku blinked several times, wondering if this was normal behavior here. Himiko snickered. Shoto sighed. Izuku simply stared.
He wondered if Katsuki was fond of wasting chicken fillets or if throwing them was his emotional coping mechanism.
-
Shoto was the first to break the brief silence they all settled into after Katsuki’s random chicken attack. He had been quiet the entire time, calmly eating, but when Aizawa began to explain why Izuku had been admitted, his expression shifted, not with fear, but genuine surprise.
“He can sleep for how long?” Shoto asked, his brows pulling together slightly.
Aizawa rubbed his forehead as if already tired of repeating himself, though his voice remained patient. “His condition causes him to faint frequently and, in more severe episodes, fall into prolonged sleep. Last time, he was out for about a year.”
Izuku felt the attention shift toward him. It wasn’t a heavy silence, but it made his chest tighten. He fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know why it happens either,” he admitted. “I wish I did.”
He forced a small smile, even though it felt strained, and glanced between the three teens around him. “What about you? W-What are your sicknesses?”
As soon as the question left his mouth, everything went still. Himiko paused with her chopsticks in midair. Shoto’s eyes drifted away. Katsuki looked like he was about to snap. Aizawa cleared his throat.
“We don’t talk about our conditions here,” the nurse said firmly but not unkindly. “Everyone has their own battles. Good vibes only at the dinner table.”
Izuku blinked. “O-Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He looked down at the food that was slowly losing its warmth. It wasn’t fair. Aizawa had told them all about his condition, yet he wasn’t allowed to know anything about the others. The imbalance felt like an invisible weight on his shoulders.
Aizawa didn’t explain further, and the meal continued in lighter, unrelated conversation, though Izuku stayed quieter, thinking about it. After they finished eating, Himiko stretched her arms dramatically.
“Well, I’m stuffed,” she announced with a grin. “I’m gonna head back to my room and watch some My Hero University reruns. If you hear me screaming at the TV, mind your business.” She stood and dusted off crumbs from her skirt. “See you later, Zuzu,” she sang before skipping off.
Izuku watched her go, puzzled. She seemed perfectly healthy, energetic even. He wondered what her sickness could possibly be if she could run, jump, scream, and binge her favorite show on the TV in her room. Nothing about her screamed “patient,” except maybe the unstable obsession with fictional characters. But even that felt… normal enough.
Not long after, Shoto rose to his feet and offered Izuku a polite nod. “It was nice meeting you. Let’s talk again later.”
Izuku nodded back, and this time the smile came easily. “Yeah… I’d like that.”
Shoto’s expression softened ever so slightly before he slipped out of the room. Izuku watched the door close behind him, thinking that Shoto was genuinely cute, calm, kind, easy to talk to. There was something comforting about him.
A loud scoff came from the other side of the blanket. “Don’t smile at him like that.”
Izuku turned to see Katsuki glaring at the spot where Shoto had been standing. The blond crossed his arms stubbornly and muttered, “He’s a manipulative little fucker.”
Izuku blinked rapidly. “H-Huh? But he seems really nice—”
“He ‘seems’ a lot of things,” Katsuki snapped, grabbing a leftover chicken fillet and taking a huge bite out of pure irritation. “Don’t let him trick you.”
Shoto’s voice floated from the hallway before he disappeared completely. “I’m not tricking anyone. By the way, I’m not used to your attitude right now. What could’ve made you act so aggressive?”
Katsuki cursed under his breath in response and angrily chewed the rest of his food. Izuku stared, confused. As Shoto didn’t get any response, he calmly left the room and gently closes the door behind him.
Izuku hugged his knees subconsciously. Katsuki kept chewing in silence, brows furrowed like he was trying to solve a math equation he hated.
Izuku couldn’t help but wonder… what exactly was Katsuki like before? Was this grumpy, aggressive personality always him? Or was he acting like this because of something that happened?
Izuku didn’t know, but the question stuck in his mind as Aizawa began gathering food containers, Katsuki aggressively finished his meal.
Katsuki finally stood up with a grunt, still refusing to look at him. Izuku watched the blond walk away and wondered what kind of person Katsuki Bakugo truly was beneath all that fire and noise.
And why he suddenly cared to know.