Mismatched Rhythms and Lullabies

Katsuki's POV

Katsuki glared at the man on his doorstep, his irritation barely contained beneath a veneer of bone-deep exhaustion. The dim light from the hallway cast shadows across the stranger's face, accentuating his wide-eyed, startled expression. "Can't you see I've got my hands full?" Katsuki snapped, shifting Eri in his arms as her cries pierced the evening air.

The man, with unruly green hair that seemed almost luminescent under the hallway light, stood there gaping. Katsuki's eyes narrowed, taking in the other's quick glance over at the chaotic scene in his apartment. An awkward pause hung between them, filled with the sounds of Eri's cries and the tension of the moment, while a cool draft from the open door brought a hint of the evening's chill.

As the neighbor hesitated, Katsuki's glare intensified, his frustration palpable. "If you're selling something, now's not the damn time," he growled, each word dripping with irritation. Eri's cries crescendoed, mirroring the turmoil within him.

The stranger stumbled over his words. "I-It's not that, I just... Do you smell something burning?"

That question snapped Katsuki out of his irritation. He inhaled sharply, the acrid scent of smoke hitting his nostrils and igniting a jolt of panic in him. "Shit," he hissed, the reality of the situation dawning on him with a rush of adrenaline.

Reacting on instinct, he thrust Eri into the neighbor's arms. "Hold her!" Katsuki commanded, his voice cutting through the air. Without waiting for a response, he spun and dashed towards the kitchen, his senses heightened by the emergency.

In the kitchen, a pan was ablaze, flames licking the air, threatening to spread. Katsuki's movements were a blend of precision and raw urgency. He grabbed a blanket, quickly smothering the fire, his movements efficient and practiced. The fire hissed in protest, but he forced it down, suffocating it under the blanket's heavy embrace.

Cursing under his breath, Katsuki surveyed the aftermath. The kitchen was shrouded in smoke, the stench of charred food a stark reminder of how quickly his attempt at normalcy had descended into chaos.

He felt a low growl of frustration escape him, berating himself for the carelessness that had led to this mess. As the last wisp of smoke dissipated, Katsuki took a deep, steadying breath. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a weariness that seemed to seep into his bones. He turned back to face the living room, each step away from the charred remnants in the kitchen, a reluctant return to the reality of his chaotic life.

Katsuki glanced at his unwelcome guest, still holding Eri, a stranger who had unexpectedly become an anchor in the night's turmoil. It was a jarring realization, the kind that made Katsuki both grateful and deeply uncomfortable.

Eri's cries had quieted in the stranger's arms, an anomaly that didn't sit well with Katsuki. His hand tightened around the singed blanket, a physical manifestation of his tumultuous mix of relief and reluctant gratitude.

As Katsuki reached out to take Eri back, their hands brushed briefly, sending an unexpected jolt through him. It was a fleeting contact, yet it sparked an unexplained warmth within him. For a brief moment, he was aware of Izuku's steady hand, but the sensation was as unsettling as it was brief, leaving him feeling slightly disoriented.

"Uh, thanks," he grumbled, his voice laced with a gruffness that felt more natural than expressing gratitude. Casting a wary glance at Izuku, Katsuki acknowledged the guy's ease with Eri. It was a calmness that seemed alien to his own fiery, often aggressive energy, and it stirred a complex mix of reluctant admiration and frustration within him.

Holding Eri again, she resumed her fussing, and Katsuki felt a twinge of annoyance. The stranger had soothed her in a way he hadn't managed, highlighting a helplessness that gnawed at him.