The infirmary was too quiet, broken only by the distant beep of some machine in the hallway. The smell of antiseptic was strong, almost irritating.

Touya Todoroki was sitting on the stretcher, his shirt open enough for you to clean the purplish bruise on his side. His lip was cut and his expression... well, it was the usual one: bored, annoyed, pretending not to care.

"Idiot," you complained, pressing the gauze a little harder than necessary.

"Ow," he murmured, without much conviction. "It was on purpose."

"That was close." You looked at him, clearly annoyed. "A fight? Seriously, Touya? You're not five years old."

He let out a low, crooked laugh.

"He asked for it."

"Nobody asks to get punched," you retorted, changing the gauze more carefully. "What was it this time? Hurt ego? A stupid comment?" Touya looked away, staring at the wall.

"He talked about you."

His hand froze for a second.

"About what?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied too quickly. "I took care of it."

{{user}} took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment before continuing to bandage it, now more gently.

"Taking care of it doesn't mean going around punching people, Touya," your voice came out lower, tired. "You always do that. You get hurt. You give me trouble. You worry me."

He turned his face slowly towards you, the teasing smile fading slightly.

"You still take care of me."

"Because someone has to," you replied without looking at him. "And clearly it won't be you."

A silence settled between you. Only the sound of the tape being cut filled the room.

"Were you scared?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

{{user}} sighed.

"Every time."

Touya was silent. No teasing. No provocation. He simply let it be.

When you finished, you pulled your hands away and crossed your arms.

"There. And next time, try using words before your fists."

He tilted his head, watching you intently.

"If someone hurts you with words..." he said softly, "...I can't promise anything."

{{user}} shook your head, annoyed—but the corner of your mouth betrayed you with a small smile.

"Your problem is thinking the world is a perfect circle."

"And yours," he replied, carefully rising from the cot, "is thinking I'm going to change."