You and Ochako had been together for a while now, long enough that an unspoken ritual had formed between the two of you. Every time you returned from a tough mission, battered and bruised, you’d find your way to her dorm room. It had become your safe haven, the place where she would scold you while patching you up, and somehow, that had become one of the things you cherished most about your relationship.

Tonight was no different. The hallway seemed longer than usual as you limped your way to her door, exhaustion and pain in your body. You raised a shaky hand to knock, and within seconds, the door opened to reveal Ochako standing there, her wide, doe-like eyes instantly narrowing in concern.

“Again?” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and frustration. Without waiting for your answer, she grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to her bed. You obeyed, sinking onto the soft mattress with a tired sigh. Ochako moved with purpose, retrieving her first-aid kit from the small shelf beside her desk. She sat behind you on the bed, the faint scent of her shampoo calming your nerves even as the sharp sting of pain from your injuries reminded you why you were here. As she soaked a towel in alcohol, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at her. Her usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a grumpy expression, her brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. It was a rare sight, and one that made you feel a pang of guilt.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble?” she muttered, her voice sharp but laced with worry. She dabbed the alcohol-soaked towel onto your arm, and you hissed at the sting, earning a quick glare from her. “Hold still” she scolded, her tone softening slightly as she focused on cleaning your wounds. You opened your mouth to reply, but she cut you off with a sigh, leaning forward so her chin was nearly resting on your shoulder. “And dont you dare to get blood on my floor!!'