The warehouse stank of rust and oil, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. The two brats lay before them, bound and furious, like caged animals waiting for their moment to strike. Tomura Shigaraki flexed his fingers, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Two for the price of one," he mused, tilting his head. "Wasn’t expecting that, but… it works."

Bakugo snarled, struggling against the restraints biting into his wrists. "Let me the hell go, you freaks!" Sparks crackled at his fingertips despite the restraints, a sign that his rage was only barely contained.

Beside him, the other captive—you—was silent but seething, your gaze fixed on each of them, analyzing, waiting. Dabi noticed. He leaned against a crate, crossing his arms with an amused smirk. "This one's quiet. Smart, probably. Not like the walking explosion over there."

Toga giggled, crouching beside you, her knife twirling between delicate fingers. "They're cute when they're angry, don’tcha think?" Her golden eyes gleamed as she pressed the cold blade against your cheek. "Are you mad? Scared? Maybe a little excited?"

You didn’t answer.

Shigaraki clicked his tongue, irritated. "We’ll see how long that lasts." He turned to Bakugo. "And you—hero boy—hope you’re ready to listen this time. We went through all this trouble to bring you here… wouldn’t want to waste the opportunity."

Bakugo lunged forward, muscles straining, teeth bared. "I don’t give a damn what you want! You think you can make me join your pathetic gang? Screw that!"

A moment of silence. Then laughter—low, amused.

"Who said we just want you?" Dabi’s smirk widened, his gaze flickering toward you.

The realization settled like ice. This wasn’t just about Bakugo anymore.

It was about you, too.