At first Katsuki doesn't know if what he sees is a dream or one of those ridiculous, life-flashing-before-your-eyes flashbacks you supposedly get before you die, but it's no surprise he sees Eijirou. He's with him, even if somehow he knows that what he's experiencing isn't reality.

The space around them is familiar, but he can't place whether or not he's reliving a memory; there's no sense of deja vu, no specific recognition apart from that vague familiarity.

Eijirou's hand is warm in his—an unusual sensation for one who's usually the warmer of the two. The sidewalk in front of them is littered with gold leaves, casting long shadows in the light of the sunset directly ahead. Half bare trees line each side of the path. The air is warm and still; only a few birds chirp overhead from their perches among the branches. Their footsteps are silent as they walk along, bringing Katsuki's attention to the fact that his feet are bare—no, that both of their feet are bare.

His eyes trail up to Eijirou's face—and then he knows he's in a dream, that this isn't his life flashing before him. Eijirou's hair is long, cascading down around his shoulders, fading from a somewhat washed out red to a dark, silky, velvety black from bottom to top.

Katsuki nearly trips over his own damn feet at the sight, and staggers to a halt when Eijirou's brilliant eyes, reflecting the oranges of the sunset, catch his, and he smiles. The smile is concerned, though. Confused. He doesn't know why Katsuki has stopped. He's wondering if Katsuki is okay, though he doesn't verbalize any of these thoughts. Katsuki just knows.

He reaches up with a somewhat confused frown of his own and brushes his fingers through the hair hanging over Eijirou's left shoulder. It's even softer than it looks, falling easily through his fingers, picking up in the gentle breeze.

Katsuki's breath hitches when Eijirou's smile widens again and steps forward, stretching his chin up just enough to place a gentle, warm kiss on the blonde's forehead. And Katsuki swears it feels like fireworks when those damn soft lips meet his skin, but he has little time to react because the other is tugging him along again—or trying to, that is. Katsuki tugs back, shaking his head in confusion. At the same time, a worried—almost panicked—expression twists up Eijirou's face, distorting those damn beautiful features. He's urgent, with a look that says we really need to keep moving. But Katsuki doesn't get it. Where the fuck are they going? Why are they back near UA? What the fuck is going on?

Am I even fucking alive?

...are you even alive?!

But Eijirou doesn't seem to be getting it, so Katsuki opens his mouth to start hurling the questions at him.

As soon as he tries, the pain hits; it suddenly feels like he's trying to swallow a thousand fucking needles. It's only then when the scene in front of him vanishes and he's left alone, floating through some shitty darkness with nothing to hold onto; there isn't even a trace of the warmth of Eijirou's hand against his palm...

~

Waking up sucks because Katsuki knows where he is before he even opens his eyes—the brick-like mattress underneath him is a dead giveaway. Add that on top of the sensation of tape suck to his right arm and the tube thing running across his face, as well as the hum of shitty machinery, and he knows he's back in the damn hospital.

And alive. Somehow.

But that's the least of his worries, because the memory of dumbass Eijirou jumping in front of him in full defense mode surfaces and his eyes fly open.

The room is bright; sunlight streams in from the large window on the left. The room is an exact replica of the one he was in before, but flipped. And Eijirou is right there beside him between the bed and the window, sound asleep. He's leaning over from the chair, his head resting on the mattress beside Katsuki. His hair is down.

And he's covered in bandages. All Katsuki can see of them are the few on one side of his face, some wrapped around his neck, and the ones seemingly wrapped all the way around his torso. His arms are down in his lap, but... one of them is definitely in a sling. Some of his exposed skin is bruised, and bruised dark. His left eye is blackened as well.

For some stupid, shitty, ridiculous reason he is absolutely going to blame on whatever drugs they have running through him, Katsuki's eyes fill with tears the second he lays eyes on his boyfriend. He quickly swipes them away, tugging off the stupid oxygen tube in the process, but it does little good as they instantly flood in again, this time spilling completely over and dripping from his chin.

Fuck fuck fuck, he mutters internally, sitting up and continually brushing them away to no avail. The ache in his chest and that burning he's gotten used to after all these months make themselves known as soon as he moves, but it doesn't matter. It's nothing he hasn't dealt with before.

It's like some fucked up emotional tidal wave is rolling through him; he can't stop the stupid tears no matter how hard he tries, and he can't keep his eyes away from the bruised and battered Eijirou beside him.

It takes a good few minutes for him to get a handle on his damn emotions, and he curses himself internally the entire time. And shit is he glad Eijirou's asleep; hell knows he'd get ten times as worried as he surely already is if he were to witness these fucking baby tears.

By then Katsuki doesn't know if the ache in his chest is because of the damage to his insides from the poison or because of how fucking awful it is to see Eijirou covered in bandages, so beat up and surely in pain of his own, and all because Katsuki's shitty, weak body succumbed to the deterioration. All he knows for sure is the depths of anger he holds for himself for letting this happen.

And, he can't help but think as gently his hand comes down to rest tenderly against the redhead's warm cheek, that every time someone told him he shouldn't have been doing that—that he should've retired as soon as he learned of his condition and let his body rest for the remainder of his days—they'd been right. So fucking right. Because now fucking Eijirou is hurt because of his insistence to continue his work as a hero. He can't help feeling lucky, knowing it could have ended up so much worse...

I'm so fucking sorry, Eijirou...

The thought is cut short and his attention is caught by the sound of the doorknob turning. His head whips around to find a nurse stepping in.

"Oh, you're awake," he says, tugging on a pair of gloves. "How are you feeling?"

Like shit. "Fine."

"Just fine? Are you in any pain?"

Katsuki half-shrugs. "Not really," he lies habitually; he's gotten so used to it that is almost second nature now, to downplay his pain.

"Glad to hear it. I just came to check on your IV. Looks like the saline is almost done. After that we can probably remove it if you feel up to eating..." His voice trails off as his eyes point down to the breathing tube cast aside in the blonde's lap. "Ah... you should really put that back on, though. Your oxygen levels are pretty low, which is what alerted me in the first place."

Katsuki's eyes drop to it as well. Almost robotically he reaches for it with a shaky hand. The nurse sees it too because he practically scrambles to help. Just as the stupid thing is being tucked back around his ears, Eijirou moves beneath his hand, causing him to withdraw it just as his eyes are fluttering slowly open.

"...Katsuki," he mumbles sleepily as he sits up. "Hey. You're finally awake."

The word finally strikes something within Katsuki, but it's quickly sucked away in seeing more of the redhead and all of his injuries. He's only half aware of it when the nurse slips quietly back out of the room, and fuck he can already feel his eyes beginning to well with those stupid tears again.

Eijirou notices it right away, and it wakes him up quickly. "Hey, what's wrong?" He wants so badly to reach for the other, but with his arms trapped in casts and slings he's forced to settle for a simple look that he knows doesn't convey the same concern.

"You look like someone made a fuckin' punching bag outta you," Katsuki mumbles, frustratedly digging the heels of his hands into his eyes to get rid of the tears. "'N it's my goddamn fault."

"Hey, no. No no no. No it's not, man." Ei leans forward. "C'mon, look at me. 'S not your fault at all, okay? These things happen, and—"

"No they don't, Eijirou. They don't just fucking happen. It's because I'm a goddamn idiot and decided to keep going even though everybody told me to fucking stop, and I'm a stubborn bastard who can't get shit like that through my skull, and now you had to pay for it." His voice gets rougher and rougher as he speaks. No matter how hard he tries he can't stop himself from crying. "Fuck."

And Eijirou can't help it. He knows it's against the rules, but he doesn't care; he stands up and plants himself on the bed in front of his boyfriend. "Katsuki, you know that's not how I see it at all. You know me. If anything I'm so proud of you for not letting all this crap hold you back from living your dream, man. Seriously. And you saved lots of people over these last months even while dealing with it all... and you did it while bearing pain even worse than you let everyone believe."

"Yeah, and look where the fuck that got me. Look where it got both of us. Both of your fucking arms are broken, for fuck's sake! You've got a goddamn black eye and bruises and bandages everywhere!"

"Only one arm is broken," Ei corrects him. "My left wrist is just fractured a bit, but they wanted to put it in a cast just to be safe. The sling'll come off and I'll just have to wear a brace in a couple days."

"Like that fucking matters, Eijirou!" Katsuki snaps; by now he's stopped bothering to dry his face. His eyes are on fire, his whole body tense. With the cannula wrapped across his face and the pallid state of his skin, he looks so... broken. So guilty. Eijirou's chest aches for him. "You still got hurt! Fucking bad!"

"I don't regret it, though," Ei tells him softly. "Not one bit. I'm... I'm just glad you're alive, Katsuki. And awake."

Once more Katsuki drags his arm across his face. "The fuck's that mean? You expect me not to wake up or someshit?"

Eijirou's throat suddenly goes dry. "...I wasn't sure," he murmurs. "You've been unconscious for over a week. They... were starting to consider the state you were in as a coma..."

"...what?" deadpans the blonde.

"'S like your body went into shock or something, which makes sense after what happened. You passed out you'd been mostly unresponsive ever since."

"A... fucking week?"

Ei responds with nothing but a small nod, and instant regret fills him for not breaking that news to Katsuki more lightly. He lets the blonde sit with it for a minute, his bloodshot eyes narrowed and his jaw visibly clenching and relaxing, gaze never leaving the redhead's.

"What day is it?" he mumbles.

"Saturday. The twenty first. You missed your birthday." Eijirou manages a small smile. "But don't worry, we can celebrate for a whole week if you want after you get released."

"I don't give a fuck about that," Katsuki mutters. "Tell me what happened after I passed out."

"I protected you," Ei says simply. "Like I promised I would. They got called off, so I was pretty lucky. The others showed up and we got you here as soon as possible."

"...how bad are your injuries?"

Ei shrugs his left shoulder—it feels odd, but any movement of his right sends pins of pain shooting through it (though he won't tell Katsuki this). "I might have a couple scars and stuff. The bruising will fade over a couple weeks and—"

"That's not what I asked, Dumb Hair."

"My injuries aren't bad enough for you to worry a lot about, Katsuki, so—"

"And what the fuck would you say if I told you that, idiot?!"

Despite the snap, Eijirou relaxes, too used to Katsuki's rough manner of speaking to flinch away. "I'd want you to tell me," he admits, his heart sinking into his stomach. "'S not as bad as it looks, I promise. My ribs are bruised... I got lots of cuts, well, everywhere, but they're not all that deep. My right radius is... kinda shattered, and like I said my left wrist is fractured. And, um, a few broken fingers. Sprained my knee too, and my shoulder's a little outta whack 'cause it was dislocated. Um, I... think I have a mild concussion, too, so I keep getting headaches..." He trails off; the look on Katsuki's face—his brows pushed together so hard there are deep wrinkles in his forehead, the corners of his lips literally turning downward—has him realizing just how bad it's got to sound to him.

Because it is. Eijirou will never tell Katsuki this, but every time he moves something hurts, even with the pain meds they've had him on. Breathing strains painfully against his bruised ribs; he can't move his right arm at all without the shooting pains. His head throbs. He limps when he walks. It's surprising even to him that they'd discharged him after only a day and a half.

Memories of that day inevitably surface. Despite all of his own injuries, the most painful thing about that day was seeing Katsuki doubled over with a growing pool of blood bright against the gray concrete beneath him as it dripped and splattered from his mouth. Eijirou had gone into instant defense mode the second he saw him, throwing himself between the blonde and those damned villains and prepared to do anything it took to fight them off despite knowing, knowing he wouldn't be able to fight all four of them off on his own. All he could do was try, even if that meant using his unbreakable form as a last resort. Because he'd promised—sworn on everything within him—that he wouldn't break. He promised it to Katsuki. He'd promised it to himself. It absolutely wasn't an option. And yet...

This time Eijirou is the one with tear-filled eyes, and he can't bring himself to keep a steady gaze with his boyfriend any longer. His eyes drop, breaking their long-held wordless conversation. He manages a swallow through a thick throat.

"I... I'm sorry, Katsuki. I broke."

There's a beat of silence, and then Katsuki's tugging him forward, already mindful of his injuries by bringing him forward with a hand on the back of his neck and keeping his arms gentle when they wrap around Eijirou's shoulders. "Shut up, you damn idiot," he mumbles into the redhead's hair.

Both of his arms pressed in between their torsos and having his injured shoulders squeezed even lightly in Katsuki's arms leaves Eijirou aching, but he still allows himself melt against the blonde. He leans in against him, feeling himself shake as he hides his face in the side of Katsuki's neck and does his best to return the affection despite his arms being trapped in the stupid slings.

"Don't say that like you're some goddamn weakling," the blonde goes on. "You're not. How many times do I have to pound that shit into your head?"

"But you needed me to be unbreakable and I wasn't," Ei mumbles. "I wasn't..."

"But you're here, aren't you? You're still alive, and somehow I am too. You did good, Eijirou. Maybe you had to be unbreakable enough for us to both be safe, but you didn't have to be perfect about it. You did what you had to do, and I'm really fucking proud of you, got it?"

"...got it," Eijirou manages through his tears.

Katsuki holds him for a while longer until it's almost too much to take the stabbing pain throughout his right arm and he's forced to pull himself back, sniffling as he goes. Tears are smeared all across his face and his head throbs from the emotion.

Katsuki, too, has tears trailing down his pale cheeks. "Fuck," he mutters, swiping at them again. "What kinda shitty meds do they have me on that keep makin' me so emotional?" he grumbles.

"You kept grimacing and whimpering while you were unconscious," Ei tells him, sniffing back the moisture in his nose he can't wipe away. "So they changed your pain meds and upped the dosage... that seemed to stop your pain. There're tissues on the counter over there. I'd get em, but..."

"Shit, yeah..." Katsuki swings his legs over the edge of the bed; instinctively Ei wants to reach for him and hold him back.

"Hey hey, don't stand up too fast, okay? If you pass out 'm not gonna be able to catch you..."

"I'm fine you idiot."

And he is; he swipes the tissue box off the counter with ease, not so much as disturbing the cannula or his IV tubes before he plops back down, tugging a tissue from the box that he balances on his knee. Before he even seems to consider himself he's reaching toward Eijirou, gently drying the moisture on his cheeks and under his nose. The redhead can't help but laugh.

"What?" Katsuki grumbles.

"Nothin'. Just feels silly that you have to do this for me."

"Yeah, well, you're welcome."

"Thank you."

Katsuki goes so far as to tuck as much hair as he can behind Ei's ears to keep it out of his face before wiping his own face and tossing the balled up tissues into the trash.

"So how're you feeling?" Ei asks.

"Annoyed as fuck that these pain meds are making me cry like a fucking toddler," Katsuki sighs. "Otherwise fine."

"...okay, now how are you really feeling?"

"I said fine, Stupid Hair."

"Yeah, but I know you better than that."

"I'm not in pain if that's what you're asking."

"But?"

"There's no but."

"C'mon, Katsuki. Can you stop being stubborn for once in your life?" If he could, Eijirou would be threading his fingers through the blonde's, coaxing him to make eye contact.

"That's a shitty question and you should already know the answer."

"Okay, you're right. But I can be stubborn, too. I wanna know."

"Fine. Breathing's fucking hard, okay? I had this shitty oxygen whatever the fuck tube thing off for a minute before you woke up and it sucked ass. That's why that nurse was in here, 'cause my oxygen levels got really low. It doesn't hurt but it feels like I'm breathing through one of those tiny ass coffee straws they give you at car dealerships. I don't wanna wear this bullshit tube but if I take it off it's gonna feel like that again."

Eijirou almost wants to smile at the 'car dealerships' part, but the strained frown smashed into Katsuki's features is contagious. And he hates not having the use of his hands because he wants so dearly to be able to comfort the other, and it's so much harder without them.

"Your lungs," he says quietly. "They're the worst... with the whole decay thing, remember? From your last checkup."

"'Course I remember," Katsuki replies just as softly. "That's where all the blood came from too, right?"

Ei nods slowly, and that's the last of their conversation before the same nurse as before knocks and quietly cracks the door open.

"Okay if I come in?"

"Yeah," Eijirou says, maneuvering himself off of the bed and promptly earning an annoyed glare from the blonde in the process.

The nurse is only there for a few minutes, taking note of Katsuki's vitals and such before unhooking the IV when Katsuki claims he's starving. He's handed a menu as the nurse explains how to order.

"Go ahead and get something to eat. The doctor will be in shortly."

And she is. She confirms everything both of them had already expected—he'll need more testing as early as tomorrow, and that it's likely his lungs are twice as worse than his last checkup.

"The exertion and strain on your body has only accelerated the rate of the deterioration," she says. "There's a good possibility you'll need to remain on oxygen for the rest of your life."

Eijirou expects Katsuki not to reply, and he doesn't. He eats in silence, too, while the doctor is checking Eijirou's wrist, snapping off the removable cast they'd left it in. He has to grit his teeth when she moves it even slightly and then confirms again that he'll need to leave it where it's at for another few days before he's allowed to wear a brace and have the use of his hand back.

"In the meantime just let us know when you need any assistance," she says. "You're technically not checked in anymore but you're still under our care."

"Thanks," he tells her.

That's the last thing either of them say before she leaves with a "I'll see you two in the morning."

Katsuki doesn't say much for the rest of the night. They don't talk about what the doctor had said, and it's left a giant knot in Eijirou's stomach. While he wants to talk about it—ask Katsuki if he's still gonna try and do hero work after this (Eijirou won't let him), ask how he's feeling, et cetera—he can't bring himself to speak of it.

Instead he says, "Hey, Katsuki? Will you do me a favor and tie my hair back?"

Katsuki nods. "C'mere. You got a hair band?"

"In my pocket."

Katsuki slips the black tie from Ei's pocket as he sits down in front of him. Eijirou can't tell if the other's hands are shaky or if he's imagining things while his fingers pull gently through his hair before tying it up on the back of his head.

"Your roots are showing," Katsuki says.

"I know," Ei sighs. "Not much I can do about it now, though."

"Don't do anything with it."

Ei turns, frowning in confusion. "Huh?"

"Leave it. Grow it out."

"Why?"

"'Cause it'd look good." Before Ei can question him again, Katsuki cuts in and continues. "I had a dream... while I was passed out or whatever. Your hair was long. And not all red. I fuckin' liked it."

Eijirou relaxes. "Yeah? But if I grow it out it'll be too long to put up."

"So don't put it up, genius."

"But—"

"Your damn hair doesn't make you Red Riot, Eijirou."

"...I guess you're right," Ei says with relent. "You really want me to?"

"Yeah, idiot, or I wouldn't have said it."

"Alright. I'll think about it."

But there wasn't much to think about. How could Eijirou say no, in all honesty? Who knew how much time Katsuki had left at this point? In however long that would be, all Eijirou wanted to do was make him as happy as he could, and if that meant growing out his hair—even if he didn't particularly want to himself—so be it.

~

The following day is long. Katsuki is... abnormally quiet. Where he'd normally complain through the entirety of the tests they're making him go through, he hardly says a word. Even when the doctor tells them it'll be a bit before they've got his results and leaves them alone in the room again, he says nothing.

"We should watch TV or somethin'," Eijirou says. "I'm kinda bored since I can't use my arms..."

Katsuki punches a few buttons on the remote and the TV mounted on the wall in front of them glows to life. Quietly, Eijirou moves over to sit beside him on the edge of the bed while he flips through channels. He lands on some old cartoon he knows Eijirou is fond of and then tosses the remote aside. There's nothing but the sound of the television filling the space for a long while; Eijirou finds himself growing sleepy, and eventually Katsuki notices it as well.

"Lay down, idiot," he mumbles, tugging lightly on Ei's shoulder.

"Huh?"

"How much sleep did you get? Like an hour? 'Cause you're all worried about me?"

"Can't help it, man."

"'Kay. Well this time I can actually help you sleep, so lay down," he repeats.

So Eijirou does, turning onto his side and pinning himself against the other as best he can without pressing too hard on his arms. He feels the same pins of pain he's getting to used to shoot up to his shoulder and winces.

"Don't make yourself uncomfortable, idiot."

"'M not," Ei half-lies. "It hurts no matter what I do, so this isn't different."

Katsuki sighs. "I'm taking this out," he warns as he gives a gentle tug on the hair tie keeping Eijirou's hair pinned back. He does nothing more than hum as the band is removed and hair falls easily around his neck and shoulders; his eyes are already closed by the time it does.

"Think we'll get in trouble?" Ei has half the mind to mumble, already half asleep.

"Don't give a fuck."

Eijirou lets himself laugh a little, glad Katsuki sounds at least a little more like himself now, before letting himself drift off.

~

Katsuki's room is filled with visitors over the next several days, after they've been given the results of the shitty tests they made him go through that only confirmed their suspicions about the rate of decay within his body. All Might, Deku, Todoroki, Kaminari, Sero, Mina, and even Aizawa all make appearances at one point or another; they don't leave him shit, and he's glad to know they know him well enough to get that he doesn't want their shitty 'condolences' gifts or whatever. Later he realized Ei must've told them, but either way, he doesn't need the window sill filled with stupid flowers.

Eijirou continues to sleep on the brick of a hospital bed with him. After the staff discovered them that way, they made an exception.

"He rarely slept while you were still unconscious, said he struggles with anxiety-induced insomnia. If being beside you helps him sleep, I think we can make an exception so he gets his rest and keeps up his strength so he can heal."

Katsuki couldn't agree more, and he'd been prepared to raise hell if they were gonna bitch at him about it.

Once while Ei is asleep beside him, Deku and Kaminari show up, and though they start to leave the instant they see Eijirou, Katsuki hisses for them to get their asses back there before he interrogates them.

"Tell me what happened after I passed out," he says. "Where'd you find us?"

The idiots exchange a look before Deku speaks up. "We found him broken and bloody with you in his lap. The villains were nowhere to be seen... he said they were called back, and that he was lucky because he doesn't think he could've won against them all at once. But he was trying so hard to get you out of there even though he had broken bones and was bruised and bloody and on the verge of passing out himself. He was prepared to drag you by the teeth if he had to."

"Of fucking course he was..."

Katsuki couldn't be surprised, and he knew damn well that had the situation been reversed he'd have done the exact same damn thing. He can only be grateful that the outcome hadn't turned out worse.

~

It's the following day when All Might and Aizawa show up together while Ei is downstairs with Deku and Kaminari for lunch. It's pretty much the usual shit at first—how he's feeling, how bad the shit eating away at his insides is, if he's still going to continue hero work when he's released. And he gives the usual, sugar-coated answers: 'fine,' 'eh,' and 'I don't know.' He expects the usual answers of nodding heads and virtual expressionlessness of not knowing what to say, so it's a little surprising when All Might speaks up.

"Don't," he says. "In regards to resuming hero work. You shouldn't. And I'm not saying that as the teacher of a former student of mine, or even as a friend. I'm saying it as an ex hero myself from a standpoint of knowing what it's like to be in your position. You already know it's unimaginably hard to work in such a dire condition, especially when you're trying to keep it a secret from the world.

"I'm not saying I regret continuing my work with the injuries and hardships I had. The difference between the two of us, however, is that my wound wasn't a death sentence, nor did I have someone so close to me who truly, desperately needed me."

Katsuki's hands tighten around the sheets. "You mean Ei."

"Indeed."

Katsuki damn well knows. And having it come from All Might—the hero he's looked up to since he was just a child—makes it seem all that much more real. He's already hurt Eijirou enough these past months, but it's hard—almost impossible—to think about giving up on the dream he's had since he was a freaking toddler. He's torn straight down the middle. Even though down to his core he knows the choice is obvious, how the hell is he supposed to give up his lifelong dream, just like that?

"...how's shit with the public, anyway? My name's probably all over the news, right?" he mumbles to change the subject.

It's Aizawa who answers. "Yeah. Needless to say, your condition is hardly a secret to the media anymore. They don't know the extent of it, but they know you're in the hospital again, and theories are sprouting up all over the place. Still, you've got a lot of public support. In fact there's a box of letters and things fans have been sending you down in the lobby. We figured we'd leave it there since you're not big on the whole sympathy gift idea."

Katsuki grits his teeth against the sudden flurry of fucking feeling. He is two fucking seconds away from telling the nurse to change his damn pain meds. Even though they'd switched him over to the pill form since removing his IV, whatever was in that shit was still making him stupidly emotional. Just knowing people were sending him shit had his throat closing and his eyes stinging with emotion.

Why the fuck was there a box of shit from people? Why? He never gave a shit about being popular—he just wanted to work his way to being number one. It didn't bother him whether people liked him or not. So why the hell did he actually care that there was stuff down there waiting for him?

Yet this was one thing he couldn't be sure the meds were responsible for...

The door clicked open and the two losers reentered followed by Eijirou when Aizawa was continuing. "Recovery Girl has been brought up to speed about everything, too. She saw the news and called demanding to know. Said something about feeling too far away from everyone."

"Recovery Girl knows he's dying?" Deku piped up as Ei sat himself down on the bed beside Katsuki.

"She does."

"Is she coming to try and help?"

"We don't know," All Might says. "We haven't specifically asked her to come, but it wouldn't be unlike her to act on her own. If you want, we can call her and—"

"Don't."

Eijirou turns, frowning. "Why not, Katsuki?" His dumb eyes are swimming with desperation when he says it, and that feeling is mirrored in the twisting of Katsuki's gut but for a completely different reason.

"You said it yourself." Katsuki's speaking to Aizawa; he reluctantly meets his bloodshot eyes. "We shouldn't rely on her Quirk so much and just assume she'll be there when we make reckless decisions."

Eraser's eyes narrow. "That was years ago, and when the decision you made was reckless," he counters. "This was an act of heroism both times. You're only twenty-three, Bakugou. It would be completely fair if you called upon her help—"

"I'm not going to." Katuski speaks through a stiff jaw; every single set of eyes are fixed right on him while his own are cut to the left, stubbornly set somewhere out the window. "It's not going to change a damn thing."

"You don't know that, Katsuki," Eijirou says. Strained—he's so strained, so distraught. And it almost, almost breaks Katsuki into agreeing if only it would erase that feeling. "Her Quirk is really powerful. She might be able—"

"There's no erasing this shit, Eijirou. Even if she could heal some of the damage, she can't get rid of this radioactive poisoning shit, so I'll just end up right back here in six months. So there's no point."

"Katsu—"

"Just fucking drop it. If you want her to come so she can heal you, fine. But I've made my decision."

And he had. Even if it hurt to say it and it left an absolutely wrecked look on Eijirou's beautiful fucking face, Katsuki had made mistakes. He'd been weak. And he knew there was no coming back from that.