Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eijirou was, in one word, a fanboy. Not a particularly bad one, he didn’t jump at chances to buy mass amounts of overpriced merch or make plans to go to events to actually seek out the people he admired, but he was undeniably a fan—a big one, for two people in particular. One was a fictional superhero named ‘Crimson Riot’ that Eijirou had based a decent amount of his personality and style on as a kid. The other was a YouTuber named Dynamight. Honestly, it was hard to say which one was more embarrassing: fanboying over a fictional character or a random man around the same age as him. But that was fine, because Eijirou was an adult, and if he wanted to drop everything when Dynamight uploaded a new video or a new Crimson Riot movie was released, he was allowed to. Being true to yourself was manly after all.

So that’s how he found himself sitting in his living room, huddled under a blanket, phone in hand, watching Dynamight’s newest video, mere minutes after it was uploaded. 

The familiar sight of a rather displeased-looking blond man in front of a plain black background took up his phone screen, and Eijirou couldn’t help but smile. There was a strange sort of comfort in the videos. Dynamight was brash and loud and sometimes downright mean, but there was a sort of familiarity in it. His videos weren’t overly edited, nor did he seem to script anything, causing his uploads to come off almost like a video call, albeit one with a very one-sided conversation. Eijirou had come to think of him almost like a friend. It was parasocial, maybe—definitely if you asked his friends. But who wasn’t a little parasocial sometimes? And it wasn’t like he didn’t have actual friends; he just also got a kick out of watching a mean blonde man’s videos. Sue him.

“I don’t have time for this shit today; I have an actual fucking job to do, so let’s get this over with,” Dynamight said with about as much annoyance in his voice as one can have when they are actively doing the thing they are complaining about.

Eijirou couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Dynamight had been making videos for a few years now (Eijirou had probably watched every one at least twice over), and he never seemed to be any less put out by them. In his first video, he had claimed he was being forced to make it by ‘his stupid fucking business partner and her stupid fucking boyfriend’ in order to gain more traction for their newly opened salon. The videos had worked, and it seemed as if their business was drowning in new clients, but still, Dynamight uploaded videos, always annoyed about it. Eijirou wondered how much of it was just an act for views, or if he really was that annoyed with the hole of internet fame he had dug himself into. 

“Today I’m watching some asshole dye his hair an obnoxious fucking color and probably burn his scalp off in the process because that’s the only goddamn thing that gets views these days.”

The video changed, Dynamight suddenly in a small box in the corner of the screen, a video playing under it. 

“Hey, bros! Today I’m going to be doing something I haven’t done in a few years: dyeing my hair red!” 

Eijirou threw his phone across the room. 

What the fuck?!?

Holy shit.

No fucking way.

This wasn’t happening. 

Eijirou let himself fall face-first into his couch, freshly dyed red hair splaying around him. 

There was no way, right? Eijirou had to be hallucinating. He didn’t have a big YouTube channel; he only posted for fun, really. He streamed various video games with his friends, posted training videos, or, honestly, anything else he found interesting. He had managed to accumulate a few thousand followers, all of whom seemed to genuinely enjoy his wide array of content. He had posted the video, not even thinking about Dynamight seeing it, let alone reacting to it.

Holding his breath, Eijirou walked across the room to his overturned phone. He flipped it over and powered it back on, half expecting to see someone completely else on the screen.

Holy shit. 

Eijirou stared down at the screen, his own face staring back. He took a deep breath before pressing play. 

Dynamight sighed, “Fan-fucking-tastic, another dumb motherfucker that thinks they know fucking everything because they dyed it once as a teenager.”

Dynamight pressed play again; Eijirou watched himself jump to life once more. “I guess I’ll jump right into it!” Eijirou showed the camera the products he had gotten. “I managed to get the brands I used when I was a kid, so this shouldn’t be too complicated.”

Dynamight rolled his eyes. “Well, at least the idiot has enough sense to use shit he knows. Better than a lot of you fuckers.” 

Eijirou couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. Dynamight, the man known for putting up with zero bullshit and loudly informing people when he believed they had done something stupid, had actually complimented him. 

“Ok, so I’ll definitely need to bleach my hair, since well, obviously.” Eijirou ran a hand through his black hair before picking up the bleach packet, studying the instructions intently. “Ok, so it looks like I’ll need to mix up a one-to-one ratio of bleach and developer.”

Dynamight raised an eyebrow. “Oh, look at that. Someone actually reading the fucking instructions instead of just doing whatever the fuck they feel like.” 

“I bought twenty-volume in the hopes of maybe not frying my hair off. I’m not sure if the buzzcut look is for me,” Eijirou laughed before mixing the contents of the packet and bottle together in a bowl. 

Dynamight made a low noise in his throat that could have been anything from annoyance to amusement. “He’s probably going to have to bleach it a few times if he wants it to actually be blond, with how goddamn dark his hair is, but starting low isn’t the worst goddamn idea. And yeah, a buzzcut would look fucking stupid with that hairline. 

Eijirou grabbed a pair of gloves, haphazardly putting them on before reaching his hand into the bowl. 

Dynamight scowled. “Oh, don’t fucking tell me he’s going to—”

Eijirou slapped a handful of bleach onto his head. 

“—Oh god fucking damnit. It was going so well, but of course, this fucking asshole just had to go and ruin it. They always fucking ruin it.”

Eijirou watched Dynamight watch him. Oh god, this was weird. 

He wasn’t exactly surprised that Dynamight had an issue with the way he applied bleach, but it was a habit, formed from years of practice. It wasn’t exactly the most technical thing in the world, but it honestly worked pretty well.

Eijirou ran his hands through his hair, making sure the last bit was fully saturated. “Well, I think it’s good, so I’m going to put a plastic bag on my head because I forgot to buy a shower cap. But that’s fine, reusing things is manly. If I did miss anything, I’ll get Mina to fix it; she offered to do it anyway. I just thought doing it myself would be more fun.”

Dynamight rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible. “Fucking hell. A word of goddamn advice: If your girlfriend offers to help you, just fucking let her. She’ll probably fuck it up less than you will. Actually, if fucking anyone offers to help you, fucking let them. You can’t see the back of your own goddamn head.”

There was a jump cut, and Eijirou appeared back on screen, now with very orange hair. “Well, looks like the bleach worked,” he said with a laugh. 

Dynamight huffed, “Yeah, that’s about what I was expecting. Now, if he were smart, he would just fucking stop here. You don’t actually need to be that goddamn blond to go red. I fucking doubt he’ll just leave it though; these fucks never do.”

“Well, since I’m just going red, this should be light enough. I’m gonna let my hair dry, and then it’ll be time to dye it! I can’t wait. It’s gonna look so manly.”

Dynamight’s scowl deepened. “Fine. Maybe he isn’t a total idiot,” he grumbled, looking almost disappointed. “He does say ‘manly’ way too fucking much for someone that isn’t an internet-obsessed thirteen-year-old boy that hasn’t seen the sun in two goddamn weeks.”

Eijirou couldn’t tell if he should laugh or be insulted. He couldn’t take it too personally. Dynamight’s whole thing was being insulting, and honestly, even if it was directed at him, it was kind of entertaining. Eijirou prided himself on being a good sport. And frankly, Dynamight could have insulted his very being, and Eijirou would have still been excited to be in one of his videos. 

There was another jump cut, and Eijirou was back, a bottle of red dye in his hand. “Well, bad news, bros. I ran out of gloves, so I guess I’m just gonna have red hands for a bit.”

Dynamight groaned, “It would be so easy to just go get gloves. They sell them, in stores. How fucking lazy can you get?”

“Fuck yeah, raw dog that shit, Kiri!” A voice called from the background. 

Dynamight made a noise between a laugh and a gasp, “Fucking hell.”

Eijirou sputtered. “Dude, I’m filming a video. I’m going to have to edit that out.”

“Dude, no. You should leave it in; I’m hilarious, and your fans should know.” A guy with yellow hair adorned with a black lightning bolt in his bangs appeared on screen, smiling brightly. 

Eijirou rolled his eyes. “Fine, Kami, I’ll leave your weird comment in the video.”

The yellow-haired guy pumped his fists in the air, cheering. 

Dynamight narrowed his eyes. “Fucking hell. This guy is fucking obnoxious. He looks like he’s trying to imitate fucking Pikachu and won't shut the fuck up.”

Eijirou turned his attention back to the camera and began to apply the dye much like he had the bleach, pouring a good amount on his head, running it through to the ends of his hair with his fingers. The video was sped up, and in just a few short seconds, his hair was fully coated. “Ok! I’ll be back in a minute with the manliest hair ever.”

“Oh, good. Can’t fucking wait.” Sarcasm dripped off of Dynamight’s every word. 

Eijirou's hair was still damp, and he had a towel around his neck when he appeared back on the screen, smiling brightly. Kaminari was still in the background, waving to the camera. “I think it turned out great! There’s definitely a few spots that could use some work, but not half bad after three years.” 

Dynamight hummed, “It could look fucking worse, I guess. He definitely missed a couple spots and should get someone to fucking help him next time since he’s too dumb to be able to do it himself. But it’s one of the better videos I’ve seen, I guess. Even if the color is fucking obnoxious.” 

“I’m gonna go style it and be right back!” Eijirou said with a bright smile. 

Eijirou popped back on screen, hair in his infamous style.

“Whooo! Kiri is back! I missed ya, dude!” Kaminari cheered from the background. 

Eijirou smiled even brighter. “It’s good to be back, man!”

Dynamight’s eyes bulged. “Holy fucking shit. That is the worst goddamn hair I’ve ever seen. I take it back. I take fucking everything back. This is the worst goddamn video on the internet. Honestly, we should just delete the entire platform so no one will ever have to see this bullshit again.” He sounded genuinely angry, like just seeing Eijirou’s hair had personally insulted him, his mother, and killed his cat. 

Eijirou felt his face get a little red. That was a switch-up. He wasn’t surprised, really; he knew his hair wasn’t for anyone. ‘A waking nightmare’ was the descriptor his hairdresser in high school had used. It was manly to be yourself, even if it was a little embarrassing sometimes. 

Dynamight glared into the camera. “Well, that’s the end of this fucking video. If you want to see more of this asshole’s shitty hair and face, his channel is ‘RedRiot.’ Bye, fuckers.”

The video ended, and suddenly Eijirou’s apartment was very quiet. 

That was wild. 

He honestly wasn’t sure what to think. He was excited, mostly. His favorite YouTuber had seen his video and was almost nice to him. But it was also still kind of unreal. 

Eijirou scrolled through comments. There weren’t many, not yet at least, but Eijirou figured there would be more later. Dynamight had around five million subscribers, and almost all of them seemed to be as opinionated as he was. So far, all of the comments were pretty nice, complimenting his hair color and general know-how. A few were quoting Kaminari, which brought a smile to Eijirou’s face. He would need to show his friend later; he would definitely get a kick out of it. A few more were insulting his hairstyle, which he tried not to take too personally. To each their own and all that. One comment in particular caught his attention: ‘Hell yeah, RedRiot, love that dude.’ It made him smile. One of his fans had found the video. 

.

The next morning, Eijirou checked his phone. Mouth gaping at the onslaught of notifications that met him. 

What the fuck?

He sorted through them. A lot were announcing new subscribers, some were new comments on his videos, and a few were DMs, most of them informing him about Dynamight’s newest video. 

One Twitter notification caught his attention: ‘Dynamight has started following you.’ 

Eijirou was pretty sure he had stopped breathing. 

That had to be a glitch, right? Dynamite followed hardly anyone on Twitter, besides a few accounts, most of which seemed to be of people he actually knew. Why would he follow Eijirou? It wasn’t like they had actually talked to each other before. 

‘Dynamight wants to send you a message.’ 

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Eijirou threw his phone across the room. 

This was fine, everything was fine. No need to panic. Seriously, stop panicking. 

Eijirou grabbed his phone again, practically sprinting to Mina’s room, knocking on the door so hard he was certain it would break off the hinges if he didn’t stop. He needed someone, anyone, to confirm that he hadn’t accidentally laced his protein powder and was currently hallucinating the entire sequence of events.

Mina opened her door, a mix of panic, confusion, and disorientation on her face. “Kiri? What’s wrong, babe?” 

“Dynamight!” Was the only thing Eijirou could manage to say, thrusting his phone into Mina’s face. 

Mina quirked an eyebrow. “Kiri, hon, it’s seven in the morning, can you be gay a little later? I didn’t get back until like two, and my head is killing me.” 

Eijirou couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. It was early, and Mina had been out late, with a date or girls' night, or something. But this was important. 

“I’m sorry, dude. I just need like thirty seconds to make sure I’m not losing my mind, and then you can go back to sleep.”

Mina rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, let me see, babe.” 

Eijirou handed her his phone, holding his breath as she scanned the contents of the screen. 

Mina’s eyes lit up. “Dynamight messaged you? What did he say, babe?”

“No idea, I panicked, couldn’t open it.”

Mina laughed, “I’m gonna open it.”

“Oh god, don’t tell me what it says.” Eijirou covered his eyes with his hand. 

Mina burst out laughing, “This guy is such an asshole; why do you watch him?”

Eijirou peeked between his fingers. “What did he say?”

“Hey, dumbass, are your hands still red?” Mina read. 

Eijirou laughed, looking down at his pink-stained hands. “Tell him kind of.”

“Kiri, babe, I love you, but I am not being your go-between via text message to a semi-famous YouTuber you’re in love with.” Mina pushed his phone back to him. “I’m going back to bed. See you when I feel less like death incarnate.”

“Wait, don’t make me talk to him alone!” Eijirou called out through the crack of the rapidly closing door.

“You’ll be fine!” Mina called through the door. 

Eijirou stared down at his phone, typing several messages before deleting them, retyping them, and deleting them again. 

He was kind of tempted to throw his phone into a lake, delete all of his social media, and never touch the internet again. He could use books for information and paper maps for directions; those still existed, right? 

He eventually settled on ‘Lol, just kinda pink. Loved the video btw.’ That was normal, right? Didn’t scream, ‘I’ve been obsessed with your channel for a few years and might kind of sort of have a celebrity crush on you, but not in a weird way, just in a totally manly way.’ 

Eijirou set his phone screen down on the counter; it was sent. It was over. He could make breakfast and not think about it for a bit.

Chapter Text

Katsuki—Dynamight, as he was known by the idiots on the internet—as a rule, did not send text messages. His friends liked to call him old-fashioned for it, but that wasn’t really it. It wasn’t like he was more receptive to the prospect of reaching out via phone call, mail, or carrier pigeon. He was just a firm believer that if someone wasn’t directly in front of him, they weren’t worth thinking about, let alone reaching out to. So he honestly had surprised himself when he sent that idiot a message, a nice one at that. He was, however, less surprised when said idiot messaged him back with way too much fucking enthusiasm for seven in the morning.

RR: ‘Lol, just kinda pink. Loved the video btw.’

Katsuki glared down at his phone. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised by the response; for worse or for better, Katsuki was pretty well known, at least in niche little internet communities. And the guy had seemed obnoxiously cheerful in his video; maybe it was less of an act than Katsuki had assumed. That was a combination that never failed to get on his nerves: excitable people with a genuine reason to be excited. He had half a mind to delete both messages and pretend like the entire thing didn’t happen, and maybe on a worse day, he would have. But his morning run had gone well, his neighbor’s yappy dog was quiet, and Round Face was being less of a nuisance than usual. So with a sigh, he responded.

DM: ‘Get a better hairstyle.’

Much, much quicker than anyone should respond to a message, another text bubble popped up. 

RR: ‘Thanks, man, but I think my hair is really manly like this! It’s kind of reminiscent of Crimson Riot’s hairstyle, right?’ 

Katsuki furrowed his brows. That idiot couldn’t be serious, right? Who in their right mind would base a major part of their life on a comic book hero? An old shitty one at that. 

RR: ‘You’re an All Might fan, right? Like Dyna-Might. It’s a reference?’ 

Fuck. 

DM: ‘That’s a fucking coincidence, don’t look too much into it; you’ll hurt your brain trying to form a coherent thought.’ 

RR: ‘Man, you are either really committed to this character, or you’re just as blunt in real life as in your videos. That’s really cool if you are. It’s manly to be true to yourself!’ 

DM: ‘I don’t put on a fucking character, and I don’t say shit I don’t mean. Now fuck off, I have shit to do!’ 

Katsuki made a point of ignoring the moron’s last message, putting his phone down and taking a sip of his coffee. 

“You’re happy,” Round Face said, looking across the kitchen table at him. It was an accusation more than a statement. 

“You have no goddamn idea what you’re talking about.”

“I absolutely do know; you weren’t frowning. Not frowning is your version of smiling.”

“I smile all the goddamn time, I’m a ray of motherfucking sunshine, thank you very much.” Katsuki went back to his phone, making a point to look as disinterested in the conversation as possible. 

Round Face put her mug down, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah, sure, you get that weird competitive murder grin when someone tries to beat you at literally anything, or that ‘I am actually a demon and my human disguise is slipping’ smile when Deku makes a mistake, but this was different. You looked content,” she accused. 

Katsuki huffed, putting his phone down again. “I don’t feel content. Contentment is for losers who think they won and can just give up. I am better than that.”

“I know. That’s why this is so weird.”

“The internet is just being not totally shitty today, now can you fuck off? I’m trying to get ready to deal with bitch-ass clients all day, and you’re not helping.”

Pink Cheeks rolled her eyes. “I pay just as much rent as you do; if I want to watch you drink the coffee that I made, I will. Besides, I have to get ready for a whole day of clients and apologize to every single one of your clients because of your nonexistent customer service skills.” 

“My skills are not the issue; if they were less annoying, I wouldn’t say shit, and they would have no reason to complain.”

Throwing her hands up in defeat, she retreated back to her room, leaving a half-empty coffee mug for Katsuki to clean. 

Fucking Round Face. Katsuki had started living with her while they were both in school. It had been out of necessity at the time; she had been desperate and practically begged him to let her rent out his spare room. He was all ready to refuse and did—a few times, but then bills. No one tells you that bills don’t give a damn about the fact that cosmetology students don’t make very much money. So he had agreed, just until school was over. Then, they ended up accepting jobs at the same salon, and well, new hairstylists don’t make much money either, so they ended up moving together, finding an apartment a few blocks from the salon. A year later, Katsuki was determined to open his own salon at the ripe age of nineteen, and Round Face wasn’t completely useless. When their lease was up, they moved again, this time closer to the salon Katsuki owned and Round Face helped manage. She wasn’t the worst roommate; she was quiet, pretty clean, and did give Katsuki warning if she was going to invite more than a few people over at a time. The biggest drawback was fucking Deku. Because it was always fucking Deku. The nerd had invited himself over right after the salon opened, with the premise of delivering cookies from Auntie Inko, but of course, the fucking dimwit had run into his roommate, and of course, the two fuckers hit it off and started dating. 

It had been two years since then, and Round Face had started not so subtly hinting about wanting to move in with her fuck-ass boyfriend. Katsuki was, for the time being, ignoring this. He frankly didn’t care all that much; the salon was doing well, really fucking well, plus the extra money from those stupid videos didn’t hurt either. He didn’t actually need her there anymore, and honestly, any excuse to not see Deku was a welcome one. He was, however, a creature of habit, and even the thought of having to switch up his routine was annoying. So, yeah, until those two idiots got it together enough to actually tell him to his face that Pink Cheeks was moving out, he was going to pretend like nothing was happening.    

It was definitely not because he had grown used to the company over the years and would end up missing seeing another pair of shoes by the door, another mug in the sink, and someone to talk to at the end of the day. 

Katsuki had only tolerated those things at first out of need and then out of habit. 

He would be happier alone. 

He liked being alone. 

Yeah. 

With a frown, he cleared the table before getting ready for work. 

.

“Bakugou, for the last time, wash out your dye bowls. If I have to clean out one more crusty-ass bleach bowl, I will break into your apartment and stick them in your bed.” 

“I pay your salary, headphones. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” 

“I’m not on salary, dumbass!” Headphones crossed her arms across her chest. 

“I can still fire you!” Katsuki yelled. 

Headphones rolled her eyes, “Like you would. The lesbians love me; you would lose half your customers if you fired me.” 

“Like I can’t find another lesbian, it’s cosmetology; you fuckers are everywhere!”  

Headphones had the audacity to laugh at that. “Don’t you have clients to scare away?”

“Don’t you have to get back to ogling that ponytail bitch instead of doing your goddamn job?” Katsuki snapped. 

“She’s my client and really goddamn hot; I can ogle her if I want!” Headphones retorted. 

“Both of you need to be quiet; the customers can hear you,” Round Face hissed, sticking her head into the storage closet. 

“Fuck off!” They yelled in unison. 

Round Face walked off, shaking her head. “If this business goes under, it’s not my fault!” She called behind her. 

With a huff, the two went back to work.

Cutting hair was, in many ways, repetitive. Someone else might have called it therapeutic, but Katsuki preferred to think of it as repetitive. If his clients weren’t little bitches, he would be able to go through the whole appointment saying five words or less. If they were little bitches that insisted on micromanaging his every cut, then things would go downhill fast, but today wasn’t one of those days. Today was one of those rare days when everything seemed to run smoothly. He had a few of his regulars come in, but none of the chatty ones. The few newcomers were surprisingly well-behaved, not saying more than needed and not complaining about shit they didn’t understand but somehow always had problems with. 

Katsuki allowed his thoughts to wander; he needed to film a new video by tomorrow and finish editing it by the end of the week. Round Face had sent him a few contenders so he could just choose one of those. He would need to buy more rice; he had noticed they were running low a few days ago, eggs too, probably. He should make a list. He should finally check what stupid thing the redhead had sent him that morning. He hadn’t had a chance to check his phone since work started. He wondered what he did for work, clearly not YouTube, by the number of subscribers his channel had. Probably something dumb, like a life coach. He seemed like the kind of happy-go-lucky guy that people would pay to be like. 

Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, ending that line of thought. What the fuck did it matter what that guy did? He was just some dumbass that Katsuki had found by accident and messaged out of boredom. He would probably never even interact with the guy again. 

He did have pretty nice hair. It would be nice to see it done properly. Maybe the guy would schedule an appointment. Didn’t seem likely. Katsuki didn’t even know if he was local, but weirder shit had happened. 

Katsuki chased the thoughts from his mind, glaring down at his client's head. 

The rest of the day passed by much like normal. He finished with his clients, closed up the shop, bought rice, and filmed a video of some bitch dying her hair green, causing half of it to break off in the process. 

“Well, that sure as fuck was worse than the last video, but maybe that’s too high of a bar for you assholes. He almost knew what the fuck he was doing.” 

That was the second-to-last thing Katsuki had said, his final line before his outro; he hadn’t even realized he had said it until he had stopped recording. 

Fucking weird. 

That redhead idiot had gotten into his head more than he had any right to, and frankly, it was pissing Katsuki off. He made a mental note to edit that part out. 

Despite himself, Katsuki checked his messages, well, checked for one message. It was easy to find; he didn’t actually talk to anyone else through Twitter DMs because, seriously, who the fuck would do that? 

KK: ‘That’s so manly, dude!’ 

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Did this guy know any other adjectives? 

DM: ‘Fucking whatever.’

.

A few days passed, and Katsuki couldn’t seem to get his mind off that idiot. He had even found himself watching a few of his videos, enjoying a few of his videos. They were basic, mostly exercise-related. Katsuki got the idea that he was most likely a personal trainer and gave himself a mental pat on the back for how close his guess had been. They really shouldn’t have been as good as they were, sure, the guy was built and seemed pretty damn strong, but nothing so out of the ordinary that it would stick out. There was just something about him, the way that he talked, maybe. It was just so entrancing, and Katsuki couldn’t help but keep watching. He wasn’t the only one, it seemed. The guy had blown up overnight. He was up a few hundred thousand followers from just a few days ago. 

Katsuki couldn’t help himself from feeling a bit smug at being this guy’s big break. He scrolled through comment sections full of ‘Here from Dynamight’s video. Good job, dude!’ and ‘So glad Dynamight made that video; I’ve been looking for a good workout routine.’ A sharp grin on his face. 

It wasn’t just Katsuki, of course. He had made countless videos of countless people, and no one’s channel had gotten that much attention before. The idiot was obviously doing something right. 

The redhead had continued to message him, too. They were all basic things, letting Katsuki know that the pink had finally faded from his hands, thanking him for the sudden influx of followers, letting him know that he thought it was manly that he had named his channel and business in homage to a children’s superhero. 

Katsuki rolled his eyes with every new message, but could never seem to not reply. 

It had gotten to the point that Round Face had started to notice. 

“You don’t text people unless you have to,” she said one day. She had just gotten home and had caught Katsuki staring at his phone as he made dinner. 

“Fucking obviously, it’s stupid,” Katsuki replied, slipping his phone in his pocket. 

“What’s going on then? Everything good?” She sounded more intrigued than anything, and Katsuki didn’t like it. 

“Everything is fucking fine, mind your business, Pink Cheeks.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Ok, ok, point taken. I won’t contact a detective to figure out what’s been up with you lately.” 

“Why the fuck was that ever a thought?”

She shrugged. “I gotta figure it out somehow, I both live with you and technically work for you, if you fucked up, I need to know about it.” 

“Fuck you mean technically? I own the place.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know. ‘You could fire any one of us at any time for any reason.’ You really need to come up with better threats.”

Katsuki huffed. “My threats are fucking great.” 

Round Face hopped on the counter, despite Katsuki’s protests. “Seriously, though. Everything good?” Her voice had shifted, and she suddenly sounded much more serious. 

“Yeah, everything’s fucking fine. Quit fucking worrying.”

Round Face smiled. “Ok, ok, just thought I would check.”

Katsuki turned back to the stove, grumbling to himself.