From The Sidelines.

The Diner.

Izuku watched Katsuki build up a sweat as he repeats the 17'5 bar about five times. From repeatedly watching the blonde over the years, Izuku recognizes this as his warmup routine. It was crazy. To think that many people's best run after years and years of training was just a mere warm-up for Katsuki. 17'6 was the personal record that Katsuki had last season, and since then, the athlete was able to get it consistently. The increments of 17'7 to 17'9 got increasingly harder for Katsuki, and he has so far maxed out at 17'9, only clearing it 30% of the time. But Izuku believed in him more than anyone else probably did: it was only a matter of time before his former friend would be able to clear that one consistently.

As Izuku continues watching the practice, he took in every detail that he could. The perfect form. The transition between the sprint to the run. The angle at which Katsuki stuck the pole into the launch box. And then his favorite moment: the few seconds that Katsuki was in the air.

The way the orange sun glowed behind the athlete as his back bent over the bar. In that moment, it looked as if the boy was flying, and Izuku never felt so stunned. Seeing it from just mere feet away reinforced how elite the athlete in front of him was.

After clearing what looked like his half set, Katsuki came over to the bench where he had set his water.

"Oi, if this shit is boring you, you can go home and round this to an hour," Katsuki told him as the blonde picks up his water bottle and downs it all in one go.

The plastic crunched under his large hands, and Izuku watched as some trickles fell down the side of his chin and down his shirt from how hurriedly he was drinking. When he was done, he chucked the empty bottle into a nearby trashcan on the side of the track and wiped his sweat with a towel.

Izuku was distracted looking at it that he only switched back in the moment when Katsuki snapped his fingers at him.

"Shitty nerd, did you hear me?" The blonde asked.

"Oh! Yeah, I did," Izuku nodded, before looking away shyly, "And um, it's not boring me. I like watching. As y-you already know," His cheeks reddened as he reminded himself that all these years, Katsuki had known he'd been watching. At this remark, Katsuki raised a brow.

"Besides," Izuku looked up at his partner, "We haven't taken a photo for proof yet."

"Take one now then," Katsuki suggested gruffly, then waved his hand, "Then you can do whatever the fuck you want. Leave, stay, I don't care."

Nodding, Izuku took out his phone from his back pocket and stood up, fumbling to open up the camera. He heard a 'tch' sound as Katsuki got behind him and crouched down so that he was in the frame. Although the blonde was not pressed up against him, Izuku could still feel the heat radiating off of him through his back. Izuku held his phone out and let out a huge cheeky smile and snapped a photo.

Afterwards, he stepped back and shaded his phone from the sun so he could look at the photo. His eyes looked like crescent moons because of how wide he was smiling. Behind them was the track field with the pole vault equipment set up, under the backdrop of the orange Ise sun, the terracotta brick school building in the background, and even further back, the faint outline of the green mountains that cupped Ise.

And Katsuki had his usual straight face. Handsome, but not happy.

Izuku frowned, "Does it hurt you to smile here and there?"

"I do smile. Just not around you," Katsuki snorted.

Ouch. Izuku couldn't help but talk back, "What you do to get girls can barely be called smiling. That's more of an 'I'm Kacchan, so you should sleep with me' smirk. Smirking is not smiling, Kacchan." Izuku said as he tries to see if there's a way to photoshop a smile onto Katsuki's face.