Why was he so angry? He wasn't the one on the ground, battered and humiliated. He wasn't the one targeted, threatened, or blackmailed.
I was the one falling apart, not him. So why did his glare burn with such rage? Why did his fists clench as though he shared my pain?
Did he see this as his problem too, or was there something deeper behind that anger, something I couldn't decipher?
Why is he always so angry?
—
It took real effort to suppress the faint anger radiating from me.
A simmering tension that seemed to vibrate in the air between us. But I pushed those feelings away, shifting all my attention to the urgent, gnawing sensation twisting in my gut. The need to find my alpha clawed at me, wild and relentless, making everything else fade into a dull background haze.
I took a slow breath, letting it settle my nerves as I dipped my head in a gesture of deep gratitude to Recovery Girl.
Her gentle touch and the soft murmur of her reassurances had been a lifeline, helping to steady me even as my anxiety threatened to boil over.
"I don't know who is hurting Midoryia, but please know I'm here for you." She gave a soft smile.
"Thank you," I managed a quiet tone to keep my words sincere despite my hurried state.
As her comforting presence receded, I straightened and moved from the bed, propelled by a singular, focused determination. Every step seemed charged with purpose as I crossed the small infirmary, the tile cold and unyielding beneath my feet.
I reached for the door. I bypassed Kacchan, stepping through the doorway, heart hammering, barely aware of anything but my mission.
Suddenly, his hand shot out with startling urgency, his fingers clamping firmly yet not unkindly around my arm. The sudden contact grounded me instantly, freezing me in place and pulling me back to the moment at hand.
"I'll take you home."
I glared, "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing."
"Don't screw with me, Katsuki. I have been through enough, u don't need any more complications in my life." I walked out.
He followed, "I just wanted help. I took you to the infirmary and home over the passed few days. I know your secret."
"W-what?" my voice cracked, looking back at him.
"That's just great! Now tell me what you want."
"Do you want me to fall too. I'm so shiny you're jealous because I worked my ass off to get to rank 39. My popularity, or All Might. Take them all."
"Deku, stop your blabbering. I don't want anything. It's my job to bring you home, or Auntie would worry."
"You're unbelievably," I scoffed, continuing walking down the hall.
He followed close behind, "Why is it so hard to see that I can care for you. I knew way before you were omega."
I looked at him again, searching his face for any hint of honesty. The more I studied his expression, the more it became clear he must have known long before this moment. Was he hiding it all along? The realization stung bitterly. He's lying. I could see it now in the way his eyes flickered away from mine, in the tight set of his jaw.
Confusion twisted inside me, mingling with disbelief. Why would he try to blackmail me, just like the others?
It didn't make sense. I wanted to believe he was different, that he cared about me, but doubt started eating away at that hope. My mind scrambled for answers, retracing our history together. Then, like puzzle pieces falling into place, memories surfaced things he did that never quite fit, moments where his behavior seemed strangely out of character.
At the time, I brushed them off as quirks or bad days, but now, those oddities took on a new and unsettling meaning. Was he always capable of caring, and I simply refused to see it?
"How long?" I rasped out.
"Since middle school."
"Why didn't you use that against me?" I asked.
"Your dream is to be a hero, and now you have a quirk. There was know reason to hold you back anymore." He said, walking in front of me.
I didn't let words sink in completely; I have a more pressing matter at hand.
"We will talk about this later. I need to go." I said, walking the opposite way.
"Where are you going?" He asked.
"To find my future," I said.
—
I tore down the street like a madman, my footsteps slapping against the pavement as startled faces turned to watch me race by. Recognition flickered in their eyes, but I was indifferent to their stares. All that mattered was the growing desperation in my chest. I had to fix this before it was too late. The idea of breaking up, really losing him, sent a sharp ache through my heart, a weight I knew I could never forgive myself for carrying.
My breaths came in short, jagged bursts, each inhale burning in my throat. My heart hammered so violently I could feel it trembling in my ribcage, threatening to shatter at any moment.
"Tomura," I whispered in my mind, willing his name to anchor me.
He promised he would never leave, those words echoing in my memory as I struggled to calm the storm of anxiety rising within me. The panic pressed down on me, prickling my skin and making my hands tremble.
My Tomura, please, I silently pleaded, don't be too upset. I need to see you. I need to know you're still mine. I'll explain everything the moment I know you're not going to walk away.