“Yo, {{user}}… hey,” he says, grinning crookedly as he stumbles through your door, one hand braced against the frame. His other hand? Covered in blood.

You’re on your feet instantly. “What the hell happened?!”

Denki just laughs, but it’s weak—more exhale than sound. “Training accident. Totally my fault. I, uh… maybe pushed too hard.”

He winces as he sinks down onto your bed, pretending like the red staining his side isn’t spreading fast. “Don’t freak out. Seriously. It’s not that bad.”

You kneel in front of him, hands shaking. He leans his forehead against yours, a spark crackling softly between you.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he whispers. “I didn’t want you to worry.”