He was awake.

You knew because the nurse came out of the room with a tired look and said, “He’s already asking about discharge paperwork.”

You stormed in like a gremlin with a vendetta.

“You dumb, stubborn, raggedy scarecrow of a man.”

Aizawa blinked at you from the bed, IV still in his arm. “Hello to you, too.”

“You really had to almost die just to prove my point?”

He didn’t respond. Just stared.

You grabbed the chair beside his bed and spun it backward to sit, arms slung over the back. “What, too busy being a hospital escape artist to admit I was right?”

“You said I’d push myself too hard. I didn’t intend to be right about that.”

“Didn’t intend to get stabbed either, but here we are.”

“…It was a minor puncture.”

“Minor—?! You flatlined for a second.”

A pause.

“…Nemuri told you, didn’t she.”

“She texted me mid-fight. All caps. Said if you died she’d raise me just to spite your ghost.”

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You leaned in, eyes narrowing.

“If you ever pull this crap again, I swear to God I’m drawing a whole dick mural on your tombstone.”

He gave a slow blink. “Touching. Truly.”