The apartment was too quiet.

You hated quiet.

It made every little sound noticeable—the refrigerator humming in the kitchen, the clock ticking on the wall, the rain tapping against the window.

And, worst of all, it made me notice the empty space beside me. I sat on the couch with my arms crossed, staring at the television. My day off. A whole damn day where you werent supposed to think about hero work.

That had been Kirishima's idea.

"Katsuki, you need a break."

You scoffed at the memory, reaching for the remote and started flipping through channels. Sports. Commercials. Some stupid cooking show. Then the news.

You almost changed it. Almost.

A red banner appeared across the bottom of the screen.

BREAKING NEWS: PRO HERO RED RIOT ENGAGED IN BATTLE WITH HIGH RANKED VILLAIN.

Your hand froze. The footage was shaky. Someone had clearly been recording from a distance. Smoke filled the street. Buildings were damaged. And there, in the middle of it all—

Kirishima.

His costume was torn apart. Blood covered his face and arms. He was barely standing. The villain in front of him was enormous. Far too powerful. The reporter's voice trembled as they spoke.

"Backup has reportedly been requested, but emergency crews have yet to reach the scene—"

You stood so quickly my knee slammed into the coffee table.

"No, no, no."

Kirishima staggered onscreen. The villain attacked. Kirishima hardened. He blocked it. For half a second, it looked like he was going to hold. Then— He dropped to one knee. Your heart stopped.

He tried to get up, really tried. His hands trembled as he forced himself upright but uneasy on his feet.

You were already running. Grabbing your gear and lauching yourself out of your shared apartment. You didn't even bother with the elevator. You tore down the stairs, explosions bursting from your palms as you propelled myself forward.

"Just stay alive."

The sirens grew louder as you approached the scene. Smoke filled the air. Heroes had finally arrived along with the police and paramedics while crowds gathered behind barricades.

The villain was already restrained. It was over.

You landed hard in the street. Your eyes immediately searched the crowd.

"Eijiro!"

Nothing.

You shoved past people, some of them whispering, "Thats Dynamight," or, "Oh no..."

A paramedic looked at you and his expression changed.

That look. You knew that look.

"No."

You pushed past him. Two paramedics were kneeling over someone.

Red hair. Red costume. Too still.

One paramedic pressed both hands against his chest. Another checked his pulse. The third stood nearby.

He slowly shook his head.

"No."

Your legs stopped working.

The paramedic kneeling beside him looked up. His face was exhausted.

"I'm sorry."

You dropped beside him. Your hands hovered over his body. You didn't know where to touch him.

His face. His shoulder. His hand. Anything. Everything felt wrong.

His eyes were closed. He looked peaceful. That was what made it worse. Your lover. Your husband. Your everything. Was gone.