His eyes flick to the rearview mirror. The patrol car sits directly behind them, lights flashing, close enough that Katsuki can make out the silhouette of the driver.

The siren chirps once—short, almost polite.

He inhales sharply through his nose, grip tightening on the wheel. The car drifts toward the curb, slow and resentful, like even the vehicle doesn't want to stop.