"Yeah?" // "Yeah."

.

"Fucking hell, another seg fault?" Katsuki groans, using his hands to push his bangs out his eyes, letting out a frustrated huff of air. Whoever first made this program was clearly a fucking dumbass, and now Katsuki is forced to suffer the consequences of shit-for-none comments on the code and the most horridly named set of files that he's ever seen. His client—who was clearly none the wiser and didn't realize the major bugs the program had until she started to have users test—had contacted Katsuki through his account on a freelancer developer services website asking for help with debugging and re-writing portions of the code to increase the program's speed and save on memory, and offered a pretty damn good price for the job. Seeing as debugging horrid nightmares of programs is Katsuki's specialty, he obviously took her up on the offer, guaranteeing to her that he'd have the fixed program for her by the deadline—a month, to be exact.

It's now three weeks later, and Katsuki's once more cursing the fuckstain of a programmer. It's actually fucking insane how many seg faults this program is generating—it honestly feels like this program was specifically made to piss Katsuki off, seeing as he fucking hates seg faults the most. You don't get any indication of what line or file has the issue causing the error, so you simply have to endure walking through the execution of the code, line by fucking line, to find what you think could be the issue, fix it, and re-run in hopes that what you did fixed the seg fault. It runs on so much goddamn uncertainty—Katsuki fucking despises them. The only thing keeping him from punching his computer screen and screaming loud enough to get the cops on him is the music playing in his ears—a playlist filled with calming lofi hip hop music that's doing a stupid good job at helping Katsuki keep his cool.

Before Katsuki can consider hunting down the old programmer and shoving his foot down his throat, a high-pitched meow sounds off to his right.

"Whaddya want, Nigai?" Katsuki asks, reaching his hand out to gently stroke his hands through his cat's fluffy white fur. "I'm not feeding you until morning, you fat ass."

Nigai turns her head back to meow again, slowly blinking at him with sharp jade eyes before turning back to the window and meowing again, pressing her paw against the window frame.

Outside, the sky is painted an inky black, faintly stained with the lights coming from various streets and signs and open windows.

On the top floor of one of the buildings, the rightmost window glows a bright, ethereal blue. The simmering frustration quickly creeps away from boiling over, and Katsuki can't help the small, soft smile that makes its way to his face.

Ah. Izuku's home.

Katsuki reaches for his phone, swiping it open to his contacts and pressing the call button by Izuku's number, taking his headphones off his ears and pressing it to his ear mid-ring.

A breathless yet cheery voice picks up on the other side. "Hey, Kacchan!"

"Hey, Izuku." Kacchan's eyes are still focused on the blue window, like if he squinted hard enough, he could see the nerd sitting at his desk, fingers probably a fucking blur as he slams through a dozen ghostwritings for articles by the end of the night.

"How was your day?" Izuku asks. "Are you done with that really big job of yours yet?"

Katsuki lets out a sigh through his nose, leaning back in his chair. "Not yet, I've been getting a fuckload of errors every time I fix something. I wanna fucking murder the guy who made the original program."

"Or girl."

"I'd beat the shit outta her, too."

Izuku laughs, and Katsuki can't help but drink in the sound, heart fluttering about in his chest.