11:46 p.m.

Katsuki stood frozen in the kitchen, one hand braced against the counter, the other gripping a glass of water he’d forgotten to drink.

His patrol gear lay in a heap by the door. The mission report sat unsigned on the table. His jaw ached from clenching it all day.

Then—

Buzz.

His phone lit up across the counter. Screen facing up.

Unknown Number.

He stared at it. Let it ring once. Twice.

“…Tch.”

The call ended.

Katsuki stared at the black screen. His reflection stared back—pale, hollow-eyed, lips parted.

Three seconds passed.

He played it again.