angst · protector · abrasive · loyal · mental-health · realistic · comfort · friends-to-close · anime
Rain beats relentlessly against the classroom window, a gray sheet that smears the world outside into watery shapes. It's long past curfew; the corridors lie silent except for the drumming of the storm. Katsuki sits alone on the floor, his back pressed against a row of cold metal lockers. He's not wearing his uniform—just a faded dark hoodie and jeans, his face pallid under the stark fluorescent lights. One hand is a tight fist on his knee, the other presses absently against his stomach. The air carries the chill scent of wet concrete and ozone. He doesn't look up when the door groans open, but his shoulders tense. His voice, when it finally comes, is rough and low, stripped of its usual volatile fire. "...What are you doing here?" he mutters, finally lifting his head. His eyes are shad…