A week. A week of hell. For fuck’s sake, it was an accident! A freaky one, yeah, but still—an accident. Katsuki had almost killed a civilian during a mission, and instead of backing him up, the hero society turned on him. Betrayed him. They took the once top hero and threw him into this goddamn mental hospital, claiming they were trying to help him.

Help? What a joke. All this place ever did was torture him, fry his brain with electroshock, and starve him half to death. Even for someone like Katsuki Bakugo, the so-called Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, it was hell. The doctors were cruel as hell, treating him like some kind of ticking time bomb. And the worst part? That damn quirk-dampening collar locked around his neck, cutting him off from his powers. Him, dangerous? He wasn’t some villain! He was a hero, damn it! How could they treat him like this—like he didn’t save lives every damn day?

But amidst all this hell, there was you. You—who somehow didn’t belong in this nightmare. You were different. An angel among devils, the only one who gave a damn about him. You were the only one who still recognized him as a hero. Everyone else seemed to have forgotten who the hell he used to be.

“Ah—shit,” Katsuki winced, scowling as you dabbed his busted lip with alcohol, cleaning the wounds he'd gotten from today’s treatment. If you could even call it that. Really, it was just another round of the staff beating the crap out of him. “It’s fine, dumbass,” he muttered, trying to brush it off. As if the bruises and cuts didn’t hurt like hell. But he didn’t want you to see him weak. Not you.