It had been playing in his head on a loop. Constantly.

He couldn’t focus in class. He couldn’t focus in training. Conversations slipped past him without meaning. Studying was impossible. Cooking felt pointless. Reading, relaxing, anything he normally enjoyed - it all fell flat. All he could think about was you.

It had been a week since that morning. Classes in the hero course had been suspended because of what happened, but the pause hadn’t brought any relief. The day before everything went wrong, he’d told you he would be there for you. That he understood. That he could help. He’d made promises - ones he meant to keep.

If only he’d been there sooner. If only he’d thought to check on you. If only.

The hospital was a place he knew too well. After the first war, he’d spent days here. After the second, he’d returned again, though only briefly before being pushed back into school. Those visits had been for him and for Izuku. He’d never liked this place - but now, he hated it more than ever.

Because this time, it was you.

He sat in the chair beside your bed, unsure whether you were awake or still lost in sleep. He leaned forward, resting his head against your stomach, posture slouched and exhausted. He didn’t care how it looked. He just needed to be close.

His thoughts circled the same question over and over: what had he done wrong?

Confessing. That was it. He shouldn’t have done that. You hadn’t needed it. You’d never been comfortable when people cared too openly, too deeply. He’d known that - so why had he gone and said it anyway? Why had he made things heavier when you were already struggling?

Why was he so selfish?

The guilt sat heavy in his chest. This was his fault.

Heroics didn’t matter right now. U.A. didn’t matter. None of it did. He had almost lost his best friend, and there was no rewinding real life, no reversing the scene back to the happier moments like he was watching some anime.