ECLIPSE (Bakugo Katsuki x reader)

returning

Remi stared at them, her chest heaving, her vision blurring as the room seemed to close in around her.

"Stop," she croaked, her voice barely audible, the sound of it cracking under the weight of the revelation.

But they didn't stop.

"You're not like the others, Remi. You survived. You thrived. That's why you're different."

She felt like the very foundation of her existence had been ripped out from under her, like she was standing on nothing, like every step forward would only send her spiraling further into a truth she didn't ask for.

"So what?" she snapped, voice sharp, trembling, raw in a way she couldn't contain. "I'm not even a real person?"

The words tore out of her, heavy, furious, but fragile in their own way because if she said it, if she put it out there, if she made it real, then there was no undoing it.

The official looked at her, expression still, unreadable, like hesitation was pointless, like regret was something they weren't allowed to feel.

"I'm sorry."

A breath deep, staggering. Remi's hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms, grounding her with the only thing she could control.

Because what did that even mean?

Sorry for what?

For saying it out loud? For confirming what she already knew deep down?

Or for the fact that no matter how much she hated it they weren't wrong?

She squeezed her eyes shut, exhaling slow, sharp, shaking like her body didn't know how to process what her mind was screaming at her.

Then, just above a whisper "I don't need your pity."

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Remi trudged down the hospital halls, her footsteps heavy, the sterile air pressing into her lungs like a weight she couldn't shake. She paused outside a door, her hand hovering over the handle for a moment before she gently pushed it open.

Her eyes landed on Aizawa, his body heavily bandaged, blood seeping through a few of the dressings despite the care he'd received.

Her chest tightened at the sight.

She sighed, pulling out a chair and dropping into it, her movements slow, deliberate, as though the exhaustion from the fight still clung to her.

Aizawa lay motionless, his breathing steady but shallow. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. Remi's fingers curled into his, her grip light but firm, her throat dry as she let out a small, shaky breath.

She rested her head gently against his shoulder, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand, tracing the bruises and small cuts that marred his skin.

With every touch, the faint glow of her energy flickered, knitting the wounds together, healing them bit by bit. But even as she helped him, even as she felt the warmth of her quirk working, the weight in her chest didn't lift.

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Remi stood in the center, arms slack at her sides, breath fogging faintly in the cold air. Her knuckles were bruised, her boots scuffed, and the golden energy that usually hummed beneath her skin was barely flickering.

She'd been running drills for hours.

The door creaked open behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Y'know," Hawks said, voice casual but edged with concern, "you're supposed to be taking it slow after the whole USJ thing."

Remi didn't answer right away. She launched one last burst of energy at the dummy, watching it spark and fizzle before lowering her hand.