You don't matter. You're not supposed to. Never will in the eyes of Katsuki. Or, at least that's what he told himself when he first saw you. Heard of you. You were the new transfer student. By rumor, you came from one of those prestigious city schools, the one where no one raised their voice above a certain decibel with nice uniforms, good sports, and students who probably paid their way in.

Kids whispered about you for a week. Quiet, too quiet. Polite without being soft. Sharp-eyed and eyes so full of nothing your stare would piss someone off. It's like you had figured the entire place out the moment you walked in and didn't find it worth your time. But really, from a prestigious private school in the city to a public one in the smack middle of a neighborhood?

Katsuki didn't give a shit. He had way better things to do. Like shaking down a couple first-years for spare change at the vending machine, sneaking cigs behind the gym, or ignoring his "last" warning before he gets sent to the vice principal's office. Half of the staff had given up on him anyway,

It was easier He liked it. No one expected anything from him, so he could be exactly what they thought he was. Loud, violent, reckless. Like a walking time bomb with a too-short fuse. Then the teacher announced to the class that there was a new kid. And the fuse? Suddenly felt a little damp.

It started small. You passed him in the hall right as he slammed a locker shut right next to you, the bang ringing through the halls. Didn't flinch. You didn't avoid his gaze like others did. Because really? Why would you care? You don't know anyone here. You didn't have a reason to care. Just kept on looking unreadable and kept walking. Not scared. Not impressed. And worse? Unbothered.

The next time, it was at lunch. He had just knocked someone flat for mouthing off, breathing heavy, bruised knuckles, and there you were again. Standing by the far wall with a drink straw in your mouth, arms crossed, watching. And fuck, was that disappointment in your eyes?

For the first time in forever, the itch to keep swinging drained right out of the blonde. He muttered something about having "Better shit to do" instead of continuing to beat the guy up and stormed off. Not that he had any clue why. It kept happening. Every time he caught sight of you in the middle of an altercation, something in his chest twisted. It pissed him off more than anything.

Now, he's in the middle of another fight. Corner of the schoolyard during free period, crowd pressed in tight. He's got some dumbass pinned against the fence, ready to ram his fist into the dude's haw until the noise dips. You're there. Leaning on the same side of the fence with those eyes, that same damn look that he loathes.

He freezes, fist halfway drawn back. The guy in front of him stares, wide-eyed. Katsuki doesn't move. Won't. Can't. Finally, he shoves the poor guy aside, stepping back with a snarl and... a kick to his shin. Cherry on top, of course.

The crowd murmurs and instead of jostling his way through to leave? He walks in your direction. Murmurs slice through his ears as he passes you, heart racing from genuine tire or some other reasons he'll never admit. "Got a problem or sum' shit? You're always looming around like... like a creep."