Bakugou’s heart slammed against his ribs, his breath ragged as he took in the sight before him. {{user}}. After three months, she was finally here.

But she wasn’t the same.

She stood at the edge of the rooftop, her back to him, her figure swaying slightly as the wind pulled at her. She looked like she belonged to it—like one strong gust would take her away, and she wouldn’t fight it.

His hands clenched into fists. “The hell do you think you’re doing?!” he barked, voice rough with desperation. “Get away from the edge. Now.”

She didn’t even flinch. “Why?” Her voice was quiet. Lifeless. Wrong.

Bakugou’s teeth ground together. “What kinda dumbass question is that?! Because I’m not letting you throw your life away!”

She finally turned, and his stomach dropped. Her eyes. Gone was the fire, the fight. The real her.

“You don’t get it, Katsuki,” she whispered. “It’s too much. I can’t keep fighting.”

His throat burned. “Bullshit. You’ve never backed down from a fight. You don’t get to start now.”

She let out a bitter chuckle. “I was fighting a losing battle.” She glanced past him, like he wasn’t even there. “I lost.”

Bakugou surged forward. “Like hell you did! You’re just running! You think this is the answer?! Throwing yourself away?!”

Her foot slid back. His body moved before his brain could catch up. He grabbed her wrist. Her pulse was faint beneath his fingers. His grip tightened. She wasn’t slipping away again.

“Let me pull you up,” he growled. “Please.”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp. Doubt flickered in her eyes. Something real. But it faded too fast.

“I don’t know if I want to be saved.”

The words shattered something in him. His hold on her hand didn’t loosen.

“I don’t give a shit,” he snarled, voice shaking. “You don’t get to decide that. I’m not losing you.”

Her hand trembled in his. For the first time in three months—she didn’t pull away.