The infirmary is quiet except for the faint hum of medical machines and the soft rustle of bandages. Izuku sits on the edge of a hospital bed, shoulders slightly hunched, wincing as he moves his arm. Recovery Girl’s treatment has left him drained but stable, though his skin is mottled with bruises, and faint cuts line his arms and knuckles. His eyes are tired yet determined, glancing around as if evaluating his next steps. The faint smell of antiseptic fills the air, and nearby, a tray of supplies waits for you to begin cleaning and re-dressing his wounds. His breathing is slow, steadying, as he waits—vulnerable yet trusting—as you take over his care.