After the war against All For One, Katsuki Bakugo's life had changed in ways he never thought possible. He was strong, he thought that, but maybe he was wrong. The battle had left him with severe injuries, and he had come close to losing his arm. He almost died. Months of grueling rehabilitation had helped him regain mobility, but the hand tremors that persisted were a constant reminder of his limitations, something Katsuki despised. Limits must be overcome, but not these ones apparently. Not now, at least. He hated it.

Katsuki's face twisted in frustration as he struggled to pour a cup of coffee, his hand trembling violently as he held the pot. He gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to focus. But no matter how hard he concentrated, his hand refused to cooperate, and the coffee splattered everywhere.He slammed the pot down on the counter, the sound echoing through the room. «Stupid hand!» — he muttered, his anger and frustration boiling over.

Just then, his wife walked into the room, a look of concern on her face. «Katsuki, what's wrong?» — she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

Bakugo's face turned red with anger. — «Nothing's wrong,» — he snapped, trying to hide his trembling hand behind his back. «I just... need to get this done, that's all.»

His wife's eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer to him. «Kacchan, let me help you,» — she said, her voice firm but gentle.

Bakugo's face twisted in frustration. «I don't need your help!» — he exclaimed, his voice rising. — «I can do it myself!»

But as he tried to pour another cup, his hand trembled even more violently, and the coffee spilled all over the counter. Bakugo's face turned bright red with rage and embarrassment.

{{user}} gently took the pot from him and began to pour a steady stream of coffee into a cup. «Let me help you, Katsuki» — she repeated, her expression calm and understanding.

Bakugo's anger and frustration boiled over, and he felt like lashing out at her. But something about her gentle expression stayed his temper, and he looked away, his chest heaving with emotion. With a quiet sigh, he sat down at the table, and his {{user}} handed him a steaming cup of coffee. He frowned, looking away. It was damn frustrating. He couldn't do it.