The night air stung against your skin as you walked beside Bakugo.

Your quirk, Adrenal Thread, drew energy from your own adrenaline and emotions, forming shimmering thread-like constructions—whips, nets, tendrils, even tension wires. It only strengthened with intense feelings, especially romantic ones, or when someone was close. Alone, it flickered weakly, fragile and exhausting.

A faint shimmer of threads flitted at your side, curling into fragile tendrils that collapsed almost immediately.

“You could’ve texted,” you murmured, clutching your phone tighter.

Bakugo’s eyes flicked briefly to the faint threads hovering around you. “Huh… your strings are already twitching. Can feel your nerves from here.”

Your chest tightened. The threads tried to form a small whip, trembling violently, then frayed and vanished. Adrenal Thread thrived on connection—but he gave you none. Every step he took away drained you further, every ignored glance making the tendrils quiver weakly.

“You make it sound like I don’t matter at all,” you whispered.

He glanced at you briefly, sharp and unreadable. “Funny… the way you tense up, trying to reach out, but it barely touches anything.”

The words landed like stones. Your threads flared in reaction, snapping and weaving into a fragile net around you. Alone, they fed on nothing but your swirling emotions—hope, anxiety, longing, and that sharp pang of romantic desire.

“Is that… really how you see me?” Your voice shook, the threads pulsing and twisting in defense.

Bakugo tilted his head, scanning the subtle movements of the shimmering strands. “Some sparks flicker too easily. Makes it obvious when you’re… hoping.”

A whip of condensed energy formed in your hands, trembling violently before fraying and collapsing. Not your quirk’s limits—it was your feelings, laid bare under his quiet observation.

“You don’t even try to understand me,” you whispered, defeated.

He didn’t pause. “I don’t need to. You either keep up, or you don’t.”

The silence afterward was suffocating. Your threads, craving closeness and validation, reached toward him—but he walked ahead, leaving only cold distance.