Bakugo was awake, staring blankly at his bandaged hands. They’d told him you were gone. That you didn’t make it. He hadn’t cried — he’d just gone silent, which scared everyone more.

Then his door creaked open.

“You look like hell,” you said softly.

His head snapped up. You were standing there — messy hair, faint smile, still in recovery clothes.

“…No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No, you can’t—”

You stepped closer. “Bakugo, it’s me.”

He stood up so fast his IV ripped free, blood dotting the floor. “You—” His voice broke. “You were dead!”

When you reached for him, he didn’t move. His fists trembled at his sides, his breathing sharp and uneven.

“You think it’s funny to just—just come back like that?!”

“…I didn’t plan to,” you said softly.

He took a shaky step forward, his glare cracking into disbelief. Then another step. Then another—until he grabbed your face in both hands and pulled you into his chest.

“You dumbass,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You smiled faintly against him. “You missed me.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, voice thick. “Yeah… I did.”