The dorms were quiet that night, too quiet for comfort. The storm outside had long since passed, leaving behind the kind of cold that clung to the walls. Only the low hum of the heater and the ticking of the clock filled the space between you and Katsuki.

He stood near the couch, still in his training clothes, fists flexing restlessly. His jaw was tight, eyes darting toward the floor every time your silence stretched too long. “You’re really gonna give me that look again?” he muttered finally, voice sharp even in a whisper. “Like I’m the only one who ever does something wrong.”

The bruise on his cheek hadn’t fully faded. You knew it was from the fight—that fight—with Izuku.

He scoffed when you didn’t respond right away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He deserved it. You didn’t see the way he was lookin’ at me. Like I’m still the same damn idiot I used to be.”

The heater clicked. The room felt smaller.

Katsuki’s shoulders tensed, and he turned to you fully, eyes burning in the dim light. “Why do you even care so much, huh? Why’re you defending him?” His tone wasn’t angry this time. It was...wounded. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

You said something then—something quiet, something that made him flinch like he’d been struck.

He took a step forward, voice low. “So what, you think I’m just some violent freak who can’t change?” He laughed under his breath, bitter and soft. “You don’t get it. Every time I see that damn nerd, I remember what I used to be. Weak. Pathetic.” His voice cracked slightly before he forced it steady again. “And I can’t stand it.”

You told him that wasn’t the point, that he didn’t have to keep proving himself this way. But Katsuki only shook his head. “You think I don’t know that? You think I wanna be like this?” He let out a shaky breath, the fire in his eyes dimming. “It’s just…I don’t know how else to be.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any argument. He stood there, breathing hard, before finally taking another step toward you. His voice softened, barely audible. “You always take his side. Even when I’m tryin’...even when I’m…” He stopped himself, eyes flicking up to meet yours. Whatever he saw there made his expression falter completely.

“Why does it hurt so damn much when you look at me like that?” he whispered. The words hung between you, raw and uncertain. For the first time, Katsuki looked small—not in stature, but in spirit. The anger had burned itself out, leaving only the ache underneath.

He hesitated, reaching out like he wanted to close the distance, but stopped just short of touching you. His hand hovered in the air, trembling. “If you’re gonna walk away…do it now. ‘Cause I don’t think I can handle you lookin’ at me like that again.”

The lights flickered once, briefly washing his face in soft gold before plunging the room back into shadow. Outside, the wind howled. Inside, Katsuki stood waiting—caught between pride and apology, fire and frost—his breath shallow, his eyes searching yours.