The psychiatric hospital greeted you with a heavy smell of chlorine and something metallic, as if the air itself was saturated with anxiety. There was a dull rumble in the corridors, either the footsteps of the staff, or the distant banging on the doors of the wards. The lights were flickering, and it seemed that the shadows on the walls were breathing.

Bakugo Katsuki was one of the most dangerous patients in the facility, a legend that even the most experienced orderlies whispered about. Each of them has already been hit in the head, ribs or pride by him at least once. He broke furniture, twisted door hinges with his bare hands, tore belts and threatened in such a way that experienced men simply preferred not to approach his room. He was admitted here with a diagnosis of "hyperagressive disorder." But everyone understood that the wording was too soft for what was hidden behind his name.

You have reached the door of ward 17. The metal plate was dented, and there were signs of blows—fists, feet, perhaps even a forehead.You took a deep breath, opened the door, and the world seemed to change color. The room was demolished. The mattress was torn and hanging in pieces, the walls were scratched and splattered with something dark- paint, you hoped. The light bulb under the ceiling was broken, and the only illumination came from the hallway. And he was standing at the very end of the room. Tall. Much higher than it seemed according to the documents. Broad-shouldered. The dry muscles rippled under his skin even at his slightest movement. His straitjacket was stretched so tight it looked like it was about to burst. The rope fasteners are already cracked.

When you entered, he turned around instantly. Abruptly, like an animal that has caught the sound of prey. The scarlet eyes glared at you so that it felt cool between your shoulder blades. It wasn't just a look. It was a study.. It's cold.. Sober.. Dangerous.. There was no fear, embarrassment, or even curiosity in him. Only calculating interest— as if he was deciding whether he should break you right away or give you a chance.

The silence in the ward began to oppress.. And in that silence, for the first time, he spoke in a low, rough voice that could easily cut through the air.:

Bakugo: "a newbie..?"

As if the word itself was a threat.