Desk duty isn't your idea of a fulfilling work day, but anything is better than the three weeks you spent recuperating in the hospital.
It was big news when you were incapacitated. You don't remember much, except for the last thing you said to your partner - Bakugou Katsuki.
It's more than just practice and strategy that forms the partnership between you and Katsuki. There's a knowing, an inescapable feeling that you're made of the same stardust. It's like a tether binds you to each other, growing stronger every day. People around you swear you're speaking another language when you communicate with each other, only speaking in half sentences because you can finish each other's thoughts.
On that day, you'd known the hit was going to take you out. So did he. Katsuki's head whipped around, his eyes following your body as it careened towards the hard cement of the street below.
He moved towards you, concern etching itself into his features. But you saw an opening for him, and you wouldn't let him pass it up.
"No." You were gravely serious, saying everything you needed to in one word.
His face contorted into an expression between anger and anguish.
And then it was dark. Tether snapped.
The days spent in the hospital go agonizingly slow, but you're able to catch some footage of Katsuki finishing the fight that had landed you with several broken bones and a collapsed lung.
As you lay in your hospital bed, you ache for him in a way that feels deeper than your countless missions and patrols. It's more than just the work — you miss him and his ability to read you like a book. Only now when you're alone, separated from your constant companion, do you realize how much you want to be at his side.
You're told he came to see you before you'd woken up, refusing to leave until he'd been assured that you'd be okay. Since then, there have been a few texts back and forth, and he'd had some of your favorite meals delivered to your room, but otherwise he's been kept busy by a larger workload now that you were out of commission.
Still, you ache. You reach out to him with your mind, hoping he can feel you thinking about him, willing the connection to him to repair itself so you can feel that golden glow again.
He's already out in the city when you make it to the agency on your first day back. There's a quick celebration with coffee and donuts, and then everyone is back to work and you're faced with a daunting mountain of paperwork in your inbox.
Buried in the minutiae, the day passes by quickly and you're packing to leave when you notice a shadow darkening your frosted glass door from the corner of your eye.
The door opens, and you don't have to look up to know who it is. Katsuki stands at the precipice of your office in plain clothes, hair still damp from his post-patrol shower.
He calls your name, softly, and an emotion you can't quite place spreads through your chest. You meet his gaze. His eyes are heavy, molten.
"I'm okay," you say, because it feels right and because that's what you'd want to hear from him if he was the one injured.
He enters, taking careful steps towards you, and instantly the connection weaves back into place, pulling you to meet him in the center of the room.
He reaches his hand up to your face, his thumb ghosting the scar that runs down your cheek.
"Katsuki—" you press your face into his open palm and pour your heart into the syllables of his name. The tether shines so brightly that you'd swear you can feel heat radiating in the space between you.
"Yeah," he says, and he smiles, and it's strange because it sounds like grief and joy at the same time, and there are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and when he kisses you, you recognize the feeling in your chest as home.