The test sat face-up on the edge of the sink, right where Y/n had left it exactly three minutes ago.

Two lines.

Not a faint shadow that might be a second line if you tilted it under the right light. Not an evaporation mark. Two unmistakable, dark, honest lines.

Three years of negatives had made the shape of a single line feel inevitable. This didn't look real.

Somewhere far across the city, Katsuki was still on patrol. The clock on Y/n's phone said he wouldn't be home for hours.