Katsuki’s gut twisted as he saw {{user}} slam into the rubble, their body crumpling like a discarded doll. Dust clouded the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and sweat, but it didn’t stop him from bolting forward. His palms itched, heat building with every explosive step he took toward them.

“Stay down, idiot!” he shouted, voice raw and unsteady—though he’d never admit it. But they didn’t move. They couldn’t. Their head lolled to the side, eyes closed, breaths shallow.

A growl rose in Katsuki’s throat, fury bubbling to the surface. His rage wasn’t just at the villain who’d done this. It was at himself. “You let this happen, you damn weakling.”

The hulking figure of the villain loomed ahead, its shadow stretching over the battlefield as it turned its attention back to {{user}}, sharp, jagged energy crackling in its hands.

“Like hell!” Katsuki roared, blasting himself between them in a flash of heat and light. He planted his feet, his body a shield against the attack meant to finish them off.

The villain lunged, and Katsuki didn’t wait. His explosions lit up the battlefield as he charged forward, a one-man storm of fury and destruction. He didn’t care about the dust choking his lungs or the ache in his muscles. All that mattered was getting to you.

Behind him, {{user}} lay motionless, but Katsuki didn’t let himself look back. Not yet. He wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of doubt. He’d win. He always did. And after this, he’d drag them to their feet himself. Whether they liked it or not.