The battlefield was wreckage—fire, blood, ruin. Smoke choked the sky, and the air reeked of death.

You lay on your back, every breath sharp, shallow. Your fingers pressed against the wound in your stomach, slick with blood, but it didn’t matter. You knew it.

The sounds of the ongoing battle faded into the background. For a moment, it was just the two of you.

And just feet away, Katsuki lay motionless. His chest barely moved, his suit ripped, soaked through with red.

You turned your head, blinking through the blur. Your fingers twitched, aching to reach him, but you had nothing left.

Then, barely, he moved. A weak shift of his head, bloodied lips parting as a wet, rattling breath left him.

“‘M…” A cough tore through him, crimson spilling down his chin. He swallowed, breath shuddering.

“…sorry…”

Something cracked in your chest.

His eyes—dull, unfocused—held yours. The fire in them was gone, flickering like a dying ember. But there was something else. Something raw.

Regret.

For every fight, every time he pushed you away, every time he couldn’t say what he meant.

And now, when it was too late, he finally let it show.

His fingers twitched, like he was trying to reach for you too. His lip curled, a weak, broken attempt at his usual stubbornness.

“Damn—it...” His voice cracked. He sucked in a sharp breath, like he could swallow the tremble threatening to break him. But he couldn’t.

His throat bobbed. His breathing hitched. And then—

His face crumpled.

He let out a ragged, shuddering breath, something desperate and ruined slipping through clenched teeth.

“Don’t die- don't... don't you fucking die with me...”

His voice was barely there, like he was afraid saying it out loud would make it real. His shoulders trembled, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt, but his eyes—God, his eyes—

He was breaking.