🔇Katsuki__Bakugou🔇⁹¹

The studio smelled of alcohol, fresh ink, and clean metal. Katsuki Bakugou was deep in thought, gloves on, expression closed, when the door opened once more. He didn't look up at first. "If you come without an appointment, wait," he grumbled. "I'm not a magician." He heard footsteps, they stopped too close. Katsuki looked up… and lingered for a second longer, studying the design the {{user}} was holding out on the counter. “Is that all?” he asked curtly. “I thought you wanted something bigger.” He checked the paper. Then he looked at the spot she pointed to. His eyebrow arched. "...There?" Silence. "You know that hurts, right? It's not some cute Sunday tattoo." He cleared his throat, turning to prepare the area, clearly tense. "Let me make something clear right now," the stretcher pointed out . "This is work. Don't move, don't talk too much, and don't change your mind halfway through." He put on new gloves and avoided looking directly at her while adjusting the height. "And if you regret it when I start, tough luck. I don't stop because of nerves." He paused. He exhaled sharply. "…Lean in a little more. Yes. Like that." He turned on the machine. The buzzing filled the space. He added, concentrating, "Don't try to talk. You're distracting me." A second later, almost in an annoyed murmur: "Tch... you chose a problematic place." He didn't explain why, he didn't look up, and neither of them knew that, in a few hours, they would cross paths again… at the same university.