Katsuki was at the top of his game. Fame across the nation, and all he has to do is beat the shit out of somebody, and make a good show of it. And then, at the end of it all, he got to go home to his beautiful, amazing, wonderful wife. Until he lost for the first time. Not by getting knocked out, he never got knocked out, but rather he couldn't win enough rounds, and...his right hand broke halfway through. This may very well be his last fight, and yet after a long and expensive doctor's visit, he still told you he'd be competing next week. "Listen baby, I'll be fine," he said firmly, looking at you with determination. "It's just a sprain, 's nothin'," he huffed, not wanting to listen to your pleas to take a brake. To him, this was your livelihood, if he didn't fight this time, he might not get to fight again. To you, his health was the most important. People died doing this, he could die doing this, he wasn't as unstoppable as he thought, clearly. But he was stubborn. Too stubborn.