Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the pavement. His messy blond hair caught the light just right, practically glowing. He didn’t look back at you, but his slow pace said enough—he was waiting for you, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Tch. Hurry up, dumbass,” he muttered over his shoulder, voice low enough that only you could really hear. The others were chatting, some laughing about something Denki said, but Katsuki stayed quiet, walking just far enough ahead to look cool but close enough for you to keep up easily.