When Izuku opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the infirmary ceiling.
White tiles. Clean sheets. The faint, sterile scent of antiseptic.
Safe.
"All Might…"
He turned his head. All Might stood beside the bed in his gaunt form, shoulders slightly hunched, but his gaze steady.
"You're awake," he said, relief softening his voice.
Izuku pushed himself up a little, wincing faintly. "The others… are they okay?"
"They're fine," All Might replied. "A few minor injuries. Nothing serious."
The tension in Izuku's chest eased. "That's good."
All Might studied him for a moment, then gave a small, thoughtful smile. "You were all caught in a villain attack during class and still made it through. That's not something most students could manage."
Izuku glanced at him. "You say that like you've been teaching for years."
All Might scratched the back of his head, letting out an awkward laugh.
"Confidence is fine," a voice cut in, dry and unimpressed, "but don't oversell it."
Recovery Girl entered, tapping her cane lightly against the floor. She stopped at Izuku's bedside, her sharp eyes scanning him from head to toe.
"Well?" she asked. "How do you feel?"
"I'm okay," Izuku said. "My back still hurts."
"That's expected. The skin hasn't fully healed yet."
Before he could respond, the door slid open.
"Izuku! We came to see you!"
A cluster of familiar faces filled the room. Uraraka rushed in first, followed by several classmates—and Bakugo, who looked as irritated as ever.
Izuku lifted a hand in greeting. "Hey."
"How are you feeling?" Uraraka asked, already at his side.
"I'm alright. Just sore."
"'Alright'?" Recovery Girl snapped. "You're scheduled for surgery. Out. All of you."
The room fell silent.
"S-surgery?" several voices echoed.
Recovery Girl pointed to the door. That was enough.
The students filed out, still whispering among themselves, glancing back as they left.
Out in the hallway, the tension lingered, heavy and unsettled.
"After everything that happened… we should do something to unwind," someone suggested.
"Yeah. Maybe karaoke. Just let it all out."
"Or somewhere quieter," another added. "Something less… loud."
Before they could decide, a scream tore through the walls.
"IT HURTS!!"
Everyone froze, then winced, hands flying to their ears.
"…He'll be okay, right?" someone asked, uncertain.
A brief silence followed.
"Let's… talk about this somewhere else."
"Yeah."
They drifted back toward the classroom, their earlier energy dulled, voices quieter now.
About thirty minutes later, Bakugo stood without a word and walked out.
He headed back toward the infirmary.
"Looking for Midoriya?" Recovery Girl asked without glancing up. "He went to the staff room on the second floor with All Might."
Bakugo clicked his tongue. "Of course he did."
He turned and took the stairs.
The second-floor hallway was quiet, almost too quiet. His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked straight to the staff room.
He reached for the door—
And stopped.
Voices.
"All Might… I have a request."
Midoriya.
Bakugo's hand remained on the handle, grip tightening slightly.
"What is it?" All Might asked. There was the soft clink of a cup being set down.
A brief pause.
"I want you to… make me a knight."
Silence.
Then—
"—What?"
A sharp cough. The sound of liquid splashing.
"You want me to what?" All Might sounded genuinely caught off guard. "I'm not a king, and this isn't the Middle Ages."
"I know," Izuku said quickly. "It doesn't have to be formal. Just… symbolic."
Bakugo frowned, listening.
Inside, there was a short pause.
"…Give me a moment."
A faint rustle—likely a phone being pulled out.
Seconds passed.
Then All Might spoke again, his tone more measured.
"If that's all you're asking… then I can agree."
A brief pause.
"You did save my life, after all."
Bakugo's grip tightened.
He saved All Might?
His jaw clenched.
Since when?
Inside, Izuku's voice brightened immediately.
"Really? Thank you!"
Then, without hesitation—
"Mecha Pegasus!"
Bakugo's eyes flicked toward the window at the end of the hall.
Outside, something moved.
Metal shifted. Panels unfolded with precise, mechanical motion. A sleek, armored shape rose into view, accelerating toward the building, cutting through obstacles without slowing.
It was heading straight for the staff room.
Bakugo didn't move.
He stood there, hand still on the door, as the quiet certainty he'd held onto began to shift—subtly, but unmistakably.