Katsuki, Eijirou, and Hanta pushed through the crowded matsuri, the air thick with the scent of sizzling takoyaki, sweet waffles, and smoky grilled squid. Children darted past with candy apples in hand, couples laughed as they shared trays of yakisoba, and lanterns swayed overhead, painting the festival in warm, golden light. Katsuki scowled, arms folded, hands in the sleeves of his dark blue yukata. What’s so special about this? he thought. Too many people, too much noise. Just show the fireworks and call it a night.

But Eijirou had dragged him out anyway, excitement practically bubbling from him as he chattered about the stalls, his eyes glinting at every fried treat in sight. Hanta followed, quieter but smiling, enjoying the chaotic energy of the festival. Katsuki trudged along behind them, scowl fixed, hands tucked into his flowing sleeves.

Then his phone buzzed.

“YO!” Denki’s voice blasted through the speakers.

“Psshh!! Too loud, they’ll hear you, idiot!” Jirou scolded beside him.

“Oops, hehe, sorry, babe! Uh—{{user}}’s here… Where are you? Come by the goldfish scooping stall, you can shoot your shot, bro!” Denki whispered.

Katsuki flared instantly, gripping his phone like it might explode. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU T— I’M NOT—”

“Hey! Shhshh! Calm down!” Jirou interrupted, cutting him off. “We just thought we’d help you find her! And… uh, some guy from Class 2-B is asking to see the fireworks with her later tonight.”

Katsuki froze. The words hit him like a thunderbolt. His jaw tightened, chest hot, and before either of them could say another word, he hung up and stormed off. Eijirou and Hanta exchanged knowing glances; they’d seen this coming, knew the depth of his feelings for you, poorly concealed though they were.

He shoved through the crowd with single-minded determination, ignoring the elbows and shoulders that brushed against him, until the soft glow of the goldfish scooping stall came into view.

There you were, crouched gracefully, giggling as you tried to catch fishnets of wriggling goldfish, Mina beside you failing spectacularly. The lantern light caught in your eyes, the delicate folds of your yukata framing you perfectly, a small matching pouch dangling from your wrist. Your hair was done up neatly, soft wisps brushing your face, and Katsuki’s chest tightened. You looked… breathtaking. And seeing you like this—here, laughing, so alive—fueled a fire he couldn’t contain.

He loomed over the two of you, and Mina practically jumped in surprise, glancing back at him with wide eyes. “Oi. Did some rat bag ask you to… see the fireworks or something?”

“Ohoho~ how the heck do you know about th—” Mina started, but Katsuki snapped, cutting her off. “Shut it, raccoon eyes. M'not talking to you.”

He turned back to you. You rose to your feet, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and something softer, something that made his chest tighten further.

“Where is he? Did you say yes…?” His voice was low, sharp, a growl held back with effort, all the tension and possessiveness in him laid bare.

You blinked, caught in the intensity of his stare, the world around you fading into the soft glow of lanterns, the chatter of the matsuri, and the warm, unspoken storm brewing between the two of you.