“Alright! Let’s go again!” Kirishima grins, sweat glinting on his forehead as he braces into his fighting stance across from you.

He’s trying to keep it light, encouraging — you’ve both been working hard, pushing limits, testing your quirks in close combat. He knows you can handle it. Trusts you.

But maybe he pushes a little too fast this time. Moves a little too hard.

In a flash, he shifts into Hardening mode and lunges forward with a spinning strike — meant to stop right before contact.But your footing slips. His momentum carries through.

His hardened elbow clips your shoulder.

You stumble back, clutching your arm. It’s not broken, but it’s definitely bruised — and Kirishima’s expression shatters instantly.

“Oh shit—!” He drops out of Hardening and rushes toward you, panic laced through his voice.

“I— I didn’t mean to—! I thought you’d dodge— crap, are you okay?!”

He kneels in front of you, hands hovering just inches from you like he’s terrified to touch you now.

“I’m so sorry— seriously, that wasn’t supposed to happen, I messed up—”

You manage a shaky breath, and when you nod, he exhales like he’s been holding it for hours. “I never wanna be the reason you get hurt. Not even in training. That’s not manly at all.”

He gently, carefully, presses a cold pack against your arm from the first-aid kit nearby. His usual grin is gone, replaced by a quiet, guilty look.

“…I’ll make it up to you, okay? I swear. After training, I’m buying you whatever snack you want. No arguing.”

He pauses, then looks at you with softer eyes. “I’ll be more careful next time. You matter way more to me than landing a hit.”