The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and bad food, and Denji was sprawled out on the bed, bandaged from head to toe. You hesitated at the door, unsure if you should even be here. He noticed you before you could decide.

“Oh, it’s you,” Denji said with a crooked grin, wincing as he tried to sit up. “What’s the occasion? Here to gloat about how you didn’t get scratched?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping inside. “Someone had to check if you were still alive. Aki didn’t want to deal with your whining.”

Denji snorted. “Nice. Real heartfelt.” He glanced at the small bag in your hand. “What’s that?”

You sighed and handed it over. “Snacks. Figured hospital food wouldn’t cut it.”

His eyes lit up like you’d handed him gold. “No way! For real?” He ripped the bag open with way too much enthusiasm, only to wince again.

“Take it easy, idiot,” you muttered, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips.

Denji looked up, still grinning through the pain. “Guess you’re not totally heartless after all.”