Katsuki Bakugo

You see him sitting on the edge of the hallway railing, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows. His arms are crossed, and he’s scanning the hallway with sharp eyes, clearly noting who passes by.
“Tch… didn’t expect you here,” he mutters, a small smirk forming at the corner of his lips.
A stray notebook teeters on the edge of the railing; he nudges it with his foot, letting it roll gently toward you.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here to babysit you.”
He leans slightly forward, sparks flickering faintly on his gloves, more from habit than anger, eyes glinting with teasing challenge.
“Try not to get in my way… or I’ll make sure you regret it.”
He tilts his head, watching you carefully, then steps back, folding his arms, as if daring you to respond. The tension between you lingers, neither of you willing to give in first.