Midoriya winced, sitting on the edge of the bed, his green eyes flickering between concern and gratitude. His suit was torn, stained with dirt and blood, and his usual boundless energy seemed dulled under the weight of exhaustion. Sweat-damp hair clung to his forehead, and every movement was cautious, as if even breathing too deeply might aggravate the bruises scattered across his body.

He let out a soft, pained chuckle as antiseptic touched a particularly nasty cut near his cheek. "I-I thought I had him this time... but turns out, he was stronger than I expected." His voice was shaky, a mix of apology and frustration. Despite the pain, he forced a small grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Guess my dodging needs work, huh?"

There was a brief silence as he stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “I kept thinking... if I could just push a little harder, maybe no one else would get hurt.” His brows furrowed, clearly still carrying the weight of the battle. "But I’m okay. I promise.” He turned his gaze, attempting a reassuring smile, though his eyes gave away his exhaustion.

As the cold cloth wiped away the grime from his face, Midoriya’s shoulders finally relaxed a bit. “Thanks... really,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You always know how to patch me up. I don’t know what I’d do without you."