A soft chirp is what initially brings the red-heads attention away from where it had been buried in his phone, one arm full of bags of groceries that Katsuki had all but demanded he go pick up.
First, he glances around, before finally looking down, and... oh?
There’s a small child, can’t be more than eight or nine, wings the same blood-red as the dye staining Kirishima’s hair. It’s more than a little concerning, but the emotion never reaches his face.
Eijirou crouches down, besides the two of them the street was nearly empty, and there was currently no one directly around them.
“Hey, little man!” Kirishima grins, “What’re you doin’ out here by yourself?”