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Katsuki trudged home, his face set in a frown. His hands clutched tightly to his bag straps, trying to steady the faint tremor that ran through his body. He’d tried to conceal it all day—brushed off every sympathetic glance from his classmates, every soft-spoken word from the teachers who noticed. None of it mattered, he told himself. None of them could help.It had been another quiz, another score that would make most kids proud. But pride wasn’t what awaited him at home. 98%. Two points off perfection. To his teachers, it was a testament to his intelligence, his hard work. But to Mitsuki, it was a failure. Her standards were as rigid as ever. His mind replayed her voice from past scoldings, sharp as glass: “Almost isn’t enough, Katsuki. You have to be the best, or what’s the point?”The beating that usually followed her lectures wasn’t what hurt most—it was the way she looked at him, as though his worth hinged on numbers and scores, and he could never reach the peak she’d set for him.As he neared his home, Katsuki’s breath hitched in his chest. He wanted to run, turn away and forget about this place, but his feet kept moving, pulling him into the familiar darkness. He walked up the steps, took one last breath to steady himself, and opened the door.There she was, standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, eyes cold. Mitsuki stepped forward, her gaze zeroing in on him, waiting. Her lips twisted, and her hands at her sides, her fingers curling into the terrifying shape of her waiting palms.Katsuki swallowed, setting his jaw as he held out the paper, willing his voice not to shake. “I got… I got a 98%,” he mumbled, hoping it would be enough this time, even though he knew better.Mitsuki snatched the paper from his hand, her gaze scanning the score. Her face twisted, her eyes narrowing. “98%? 98%?” Her voice was a whip cracking through the silence. “You missed two points, Katsuki. Two whole points! How hard is it to get those last two?”He clenched his fists, fingers digging into his palms. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to defend himself, but no words came out.Mitsuki took a step closer, her hand raised. “Maybe this’ll teach you to focus,” she snapped, and his body tensed, bracing himself for what he knew was coming.But in that moment, something inside him snapped. The fear was still there. He wasn’t the perfect son she wanted, and maybe he never would be, but he was enough. or at least he wanted to believe he was.He took a step back, just out of her reach. Mitsuki’s hand hung in the air, her eyes widening.“Maybe…” he started, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe it’s okay if I’m not perfect. Maybe 98% is good enough.”“What did you just say?”“I said—” Katsuki took a shaky breath. “I said 98% is good enough. And if you can’t see that, maybe the problem isn’t me.”It was the first time he’d ever stood up to her, and he could feel the weight of his words hanging heavy in the silence. The slap cracked across Katsuki’s face like thunder, and he stumbled, reeling from the force. Her hand was on his collar, shoving him hard against the wall. His back hit it with a painful thud, knocking the breath from his lungs as he shut his eyes, trying to disappear into the darkness behind his eyelids. But Mitsuki’s voice cut through it, tearing him right back.“You’re a real selfish kid, you know that?!” she spat. “Your whole life, I have been taking care of you. Hell, I threw my entire life away for you! All because your father wanted a kid.”Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides. His throat tightened, the familiar shame wrapping itself around him.“But you didn’t come out right. He wanted a girl,” she continued, each word a shard of glass slicing through him. “Instead, he got a villain.” She glared at him. She made him feel like a stain. Something wrong, something broken.He tried to hold her gaze, but his eyes dropped, his shoulders slumping. He was trapped under her expectations.“And then I was left to take care of it,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “A fucking villain! I’m left with you!” She screamed, her voice cracking with a hatred that made him flinch, pressing him further into the wall. Her hands dug into his shirt, shaking him, her nails scratching at his skin through the fabric.Katsuki’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. In that split second, he let his guard down. The hurt was raw in his gaze, exposed. He swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that burned at the corners of his eyes.When she let him go, he slid down the wall, his body sinking to the floor like he’d been hollowed out, all the strength drained from him. Her foot connected with his ribs, a sharp pain exploding through his side. He gritted his teeth, biting back a cry, leaving him gasping for air.“I’m so sorry that I want you to succeed in life, Katsuki!” she spat, her voice mocking and sarcastic. “I’m sorry that I want you to be good!” She punctuated each word with another kick, but he stayed silent, his head bowed, his gaze fixed on the floor.He wanted to scream and shout. But he knew it wouldn’t matter. To her, he would always fall short, no matter how hard he pushed himself, no matter how much he sacrificed. He was trapped.Everything faded into a dull, muted hum, Mitsuki’s screams blending into the background, their sharpness softened as if heard through thick water. Her words lost their sting, their meaning slipping away into static, something far off and unreal. He wasn’t here. None of this was real. He wasn't real.He pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the bruises throbbing under his skin, the dull ache in his ribs. Mitsuki’s face was right in front of him, twisted and red, her mouth moving with more angry words, but he didn’t bother looking at her. He just stood there, staring straight through her, her fury like the howling of the wind—noisy, but inconsequential.Her hands shoved at him again, a push that once would have knocked him off balance, but this time it barely registered. He stepped around her, and his feet moved with a steady, automatic purpose, guiding him to the door. His hand closed around the doorknob, and he yanked it open, the cool air from outside hitting his face.He took a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs.. Mitsuki’s shouting followed him, her voice cutting through the air, but he didn’t look back. He didn’t need to.He slammed the door behind him, the sound ringing out in the quiet street. The house was behind him now, just four walls filled with noise and anger and expectations he could never meet.Katsuki’s shoulders relaxed, the tension slowly melting away as he walked down the steps, his head tilted up to the sky. The stars were faint against the city lights, but they were there, scattered and constant, unchanging.Katsuki kept walking, each step pulling him further into the night, barely noticing where his feet carried him. His mind was a blur, thoughts slipping in and out of focus, muffled and distant.But as he came to a stop, the world snapped back into sharp clarity. He was at a bridge. The night sounds flooded his ears, crickets and the wind against the trees. Everything was so loud and alive. Katsuki stepped closer to the edge, leaning over the rail, and looked down at the water below, his reflection rippling in the gentle current.What was he doing here?He felt his face scrunch up, his brows knitting together as he stared into the water. His vision blurred with tears, and as he blinked, the first of them slipped down his cheeks, soft droplets pattering into the water below.He was crying.He rubbed at his eyes, his hand brushing against his cheeks. But more came, a steady stream he couldn’t stop, spilling over with a softness he hadn’t let himself feel in so long.Through the blurry water, he spotted small, bright shapes flitting just below the surface. Koi fish, their scales glinting faintly in the moonlight, tiny colors against dark water. Not everything was chaos, that some things just were, simple and beautiful.A small, fragile smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched them. The koi didn’t have a purpose beyond simply existing in this small pond, but that was enough. Their worth wasn’t measured by numbers or scores. They were just there.“I wanna be a koi fish,” Katsuki mumbled into the night, his voice barely more than a breath. He leaned forward over the metal bars, his eyes still fixed on the water below, watching the fish swim in lazy loops. Simple, peaceful, untouched by the noise and anger that filled his own life.“So easy,” he whispered, reaching out over the edge, his hand hovering above the water. The cold night air brushed against his fingertips, and he traced small shapes into the empty space, letting his mind drift along. He sketched invisible circles, spirals, little waves.Katsuki closed his eyes.“To let go,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was nearly lost to the wind.His fingers loosened around the cold metal bar. He could feel his shoes lifting off the ground, his balance tilting forward as he leaned into the air. The wind rushed past him, threading through his hair, cool and freeing, like a gentle hand combing through it. With a sharp breath, he opened his eyes. His hands gripped the metal bar again, his feet finding their place on the ground. His heart pounded in his chest, loud and alive.He stayed there, leaning against the railing, breathing heavily as he looked down at the water. The koi were still there.With one last look at the water, Katsuki straightened up, stepping back from the edge.Katsuki’s hands slipped into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He stared down at the screen, his fingers hovering for a second as he took a deep, shaky breath. He punched in the number he’d memorized a long time ago—the one that was meant for emergencies only. He’d never thought he’d actually use it.The phone rang, the sound piercing the quiet of the night. And then, finally, there was a click on the other end.“Aizawa, can you come get me?”