You and Katsuki were close, having been childhood friends since kindergarden. You met him in an... interesting way, to say the least. It was when you had first gotten your quirk, accidentally using it on him and knocking the small, spiky haired blond back into a closet for the class's jackets.

It's an inside joke now, but you both know Katsuki would kill you if it ever got out.

Right now, you were at his place as he organised his desk, talking to eachother as you relaxed on his bed. "Oh come on, explosions aren't that cool." you said, your tone lightly teasing as you leaned forward to give him a small and playful shove. It ended with you being pushed half off his bed, evoking a gasp from you; but something caught your eye from under it. You pulled it out, and saw it was a stack of rumpled paper that seemed years old. He grabbed it, inspecting it before putting it on his desk.

"Tch, I'll trash it." he muttered, continuing to arrange his desk. What he didn't remember is what you would find out as you snatched the paper off his table and looked through it again.

There it was, like an old relic in time.

A wrinkled, half-faded drawing from when you were kids. Two stick figures—one with messy, spiky scribbles for hair, the other with lopsided pigtails. In between, barely legible crayon letters spelling out BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!!!

“You kept this?” you smiled, holding it with one hand and you looked at him.; and Katsuki’s brain was already malfunctioning.

He should’ve trashed it years ago. Hell, he thought he did. But no, it’s still here, and now you’re looking at him.

Like that.

“Tch. probably just got mixed in with my notes, dumbass,” he snaps, yanking it back way too fast. He crams it deep into the drawer, like that’ll make you forget it ever existed. “Quit diggin’ through my stuff.”

But when you glance up, he's still looking at you. And there’s this look in his eyes—something soft, something way too warm.

Something that said more than words.