Everything hurt.

That was the first thing Zaku became aware of as consciousness dragged him back up from the pit. Not just a dull ache—searing, white-hot pain that throbbed beneath his skin and twisted through his bones like a curse. He groaned, barely able to move.

The second thing he noticed was the silence.

Not empty silence—but the quiet of people waiting.

He opened his eyes slowly, vision blurring until shapes came into focus. Cold, sterile light. Pale walls. A curtain. He was in the med bay. Of course he was.

“...Took you long enough.”

Dosu’s voice cut through the air—flat, but not without edge. He stood near the foot of the bed, arms crossed, half-shadowed. His face was hard to read beneath the bandages, but Zaku didn’t need to see his expression to know what was behind that tone.

Kin was leaning against the opposite wall. She looked tense—lips pressed tight, arms folded. Not speaking, not smirking, just watching.

Then there was—

Zaku’s stomach twisted.

{{User}}.

They stood a little apart from the others, close but not intruding. Their expression was tight. Frown set in place. That alone made Zaku’s heart pound in a way that had nothing to do with pain.

He gritted his teeth and shifted, but the movement made everything worse. Especially the left side.

His gaze snapped down and—fuck.

One arm was wrapped tight in heavy bandages. And the other…

Gone from the elbow down.

A strangled noise left his throat. Rage, humiliation, disbelief—he didn’t know what it was, only that it burned.

“I screwed up,” he muttered hoarsely, barely able to lift his head. “I should’ve seen it coming… damn it.”

He slammed his remaining fist against the mattress, jaw clenched. “I was supposed to show off. Not get my ass handed to me like a rookie. I wanted—”

He stopped himself, throat raw.

Dosu gave a low exhale. “That’s what happens when you lose focus. You were trying to impress someone instead of winning the fight.”

Zaku didn’t look at him. He was still staring at {{user}}. His chest felt hollow.

“I thought I was strong enough,” he muttered. “I thought I could finally prove it.”

Kin finally spoke, voice quiet. “You nearly got yourself killed.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound cracking in his throat. “Yeah. Well. Guess that means I’m really part of Sound now.”

No one responded to that.

For a long moment, the room was still.

Then, finally, he turned his face toward the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“...I’m not done. I don’t care what I’ve lost. I’ll find a way to fight again. Even if it takes everything.”

The silence stretched, heavy and unsure.

But he could feel {{user}}’s eyes on him.

And that, somehow, made the pain a little easier to breathe through.