[there's... at least some good news when denji approaches him. nightmares and horrid expectations mingle with shadows in a room where curtained windows let in only a bare sliver of light. expectations and dread play tricks on the mind and his boyfriend's panicked state makes for easy prey to that. meaning once the other boy begins to approach him and shadows give way to light as denji's body stops blocking the hall light, katsuki's physical state comes through hopefully clearer.
the "blood" on his body reveals itself to be little more than shadows from where he'd been facing. unlike the first time, he hasn't been pulled from the middle of the war with his body a ravaged mess still oozing blood and gore. instead, a week or two has passed from the battle's end. it looks more like he's been in the middle of his wounds being redressed. the garish burst in the middle of his chest still sports fresh staples and stitches from where his exploded torso had been frantically sewn up by his panicking mentor and ultimately reforged by the pro hero willing to give his life in exchange for katsuki's. his right arm's a mess, with sutures and staples and bio-glue holding on layers of flesh, restructuring his bone, tying together sinew and tendons, one thing on top of another to miraculously manage to keep his arm's shape. cheek stitched shut from where it'd been torn open. but for all that, katsuki's not dripping his life onto the bed or even looking like he's in pain. well, asides from a splitting headache from having his two lives' memories smashing together.
sorry to give you a heart attack, denji, but yeah, it's been several days since the war ended when katsuki was brought back. he's in recovery mode, enough to even return back to u.a. (even if some of his friend think he should still be in the hospital.)
he reaches up with his left arm, the right one remaining still and suspiciously immobile beside him, and rests his hand on the side of denji's face. touching his cheek, feeling the warmth of his flesh, the very real tangible evidence his boyfriend is here in front of him, alive and well. puffy red eyes, tear-stained face, lips bitten and worried, bruises on his nose bridge from where he'd scrunched his brows far too much over the past several hours. denji's gonna crash hard whenever all this shit catches up to him. katsuki silently resigns himself to staying beside his boyfriend for the next few days. honestly, he's gonna need it.
but those words, panted out in surprise, desperation, accusation... red eyes narrow and he immediately fixes denji's brain with a serious-toned rejection.] No. I never would've been able to beat him on my own. Everyone was there... We won.
[he refuses to let denji believe katsuki's allies, classmates, friends, the other heroes, abandoned him to fight alone. for as much as he did, katsuki's well aware he basically stepped in at the end and bought the last two minutes needed or victory, after a hundred other heroes were brutalized over the past several hours on the path towards it. each one giving their all to buy just even a few more seconds.]
I'm okay, Denji. [he's not okay entirely.] The war's been over for about two weeks.
he's gonna send smarmy feelings at him
the "blood" on his body reveals itself to be little more than shadows from where he'd been facing. unlike the first time, he hasn't been pulled from the middle of the war with his body a ravaged mess still oozing blood and gore. instead, a week or two has passed from the battle's end. it looks more like he's been in the middle of his wounds being redressed. the garish burst in the middle of his chest still sports fresh staples and stitches from where his exploded torso had been frantically sewn up by his panicking mentor and ultimately reforged by the pro hero willing to give his life in exchange for katsuki's. his right arm's a mess, with sutures and staples and bio-glue holding on layers of flesh, restructuring his bone, tying together sinew and tendons, one thing on top of another to miraculously manage to keep his arm's shape. cheek stitched shut from where it'd been torn open. but for all that, katsuki's not dripping his life onto the bed or even looking like he's in pain. well, asides from a splitting headache from having his two lives' memories smashing together.
sorry to give you a heart attack, denji, but yeah, it's been several days since the war ended when katsuki was brought back. he's in recovery mode, enough to even return back to u.a. (even if some of his friend think he should still be in the hospital.)
he reaches up with his left arm, the right one remaining still and suspiciously immobile beside him, and rests his hand on the side of denji's face. touching his cheek, feeling the warmth of his flesh, the very real tangible evidence his boyfriend is here in front of him, alive and well. puffy red eyes, tear-stained face, lips bitten and worried, bruises on his nose bridge from where he'd scrunched his brows far too much over the past several hours. denji's gonna crash hard whenever all this shit catches up to him. katsuki silently resigns himself to staying beside his boyfriend for the next few days. honestly, he's gonna need it.
but those words, panted out in surprise, desperation, accusation... red eyes narrow and he immediately fixes denji's brain with a serious-toned rejection.] No. I never would've been able to beat him on my own. Everyone was there... We won.
[he refuses to let denji believe katsuki's allies, classmates, friends, the other heroes, abandoned him to fight alone. for as much as he did, katsuki's well aware he basically stepped in at the end and bought the last two minutes needed or victory, after a hundred other heroes were brutalized over the past several hours on the path towards it. each one giving their all to buy just even a few more seconds.]
I'm okay, Denji. [he's not okay entirely.] The war's been over for about two weeks.