This was a mistake. A huge, stupid, biscuit-eating mistake.

The second I feel Bakugo's gaze on me, I know I'm screwed. It's like he's dissecting me with those sharp eyes, peeling away the layers I've built up over years of running, hiding, and pretending. If I stay any longer, he'll figure it out. He'll know I'm the thief. Hell, he might already know, judging by the way he's looking at me—like I'm some kind of puzzle he's seconds away from solving.

Me: You know what? Forget it.

Bakugo raises an eyebrow, his hand still hovering near my face from where he just brushed his fingers against my lip. The touch was subtle, barely a graze, but it was enough to send every alarm bell in my head ringing.. not only that but I liked it. Why did I wanted more?

He's too close—both physically and emotionally. He's got memories of me I don't even remember, and I've got secrets he doesn't even know I'm keeping. 

This? 

It's a disaster waiting to happen.

Me: Yeah, this was... wrong. Just... forget it. I'll handle it.

I'm already stepping back as I say it, my feet practically itching to run. I don't have a solid plan yet, but I'm good at improvising. Right now, all I need to do is get out of here. Far away from Bakugo, far away from this situation, far away from everything. My gut is screaming at me to bolt, and I always trust my gut.

Bakugo: Wait—

I don't wait. 

I do what I do best: run.

The moment my foot hits the hallway, adrenaline kicks in. My brain goes into overdrive, processing the layout of the mansion, calculating the fastest route to the exit, listening for the distant sound of footsteps behind me—his men, probably closing in on my location. They're good. They've trained for this. But I've been running my whole life.

I leap over the bannister without a second thought, landing in a crouch on the floor below, rolling to absorb the impact. 

Gotta love parkour. 

Never lets me down. 

The second I'm up, I'm sprinting down the corridor, weaving between furniture like a ghost.

My mind flashes back to earlier in the week—running from the police after tagging the side of a hero agency building. 

That was a close one too, but hey, I survived. 

I grin to myself, heart pounding as I fly through the narrow halls of Bakugo's mansion. The police couldn't catch me then, and Bakugo's crew sure as hell isn't gonna catch me now.

I reach the grand staircase and vault down the remaining steps two at a time. 

Not my most graceful escape, but it'll do. 

My ears pick up the faint sound of footsteps growing louder behind me. They're close, but I'm faster.

No one's catching me tonight.

I dash through the entry hall and fling open the door to the courtyard, taking in a quick breath of the cool night air before sprinting toward the outer wall. The courtyard is massive, but I'm used to navigating big spaces like this. It's just another part of the terrain, another obstacle to overcome. And obstacles? I eat 'em for breakfast.

As I near the wall, I make a split-second decision and veer left, heading toward the garden instead. I could've gone straight for the fire escape, but that would've been too predictable. Besides, if I'm gonna run, I might as well make it interesting.

I leap over a hedge, landing in a patch of soft grass, and immediately roll to my feet. 

Almost out, just a few more turns. 

I sprint toward the wall at the back of the garden, scaling it like it's nothing more than a low fence. My fingers find purchase on the stone, and I pull myself up, vaulting over the top and landing on the other side.

Once I'm over the wall, I dart across the rooftop of the next building, my heart hammering in my chest. The city skyline stretches out before me, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. The air is crisp, the night quiet—except for the distant sound of footsteps chasing after me.

Kirishima: You've gotta be kidding me!

I laugh under my breath. 

They're still trying? 

I gotta give them credit for persistence.

I keep running, leaping across the gaps between buildings like I've done it a thousand times before. The rooftops are my playground. They always have been. It's where I feel most at home—up high, where no one can reach me.

But just as I'm about to clear another gap, I glance back and see him.

Bakugo.

He's not running after me, not like his men are. No, he's standing on the roof of his mansion, arms crossed, watching me. Even from this distance, I can feel his stare. It's heavy, intense. Like he's not even surprised I managed to get this far.

He raises a hand in a lazy wave, smirking like he's enjoying this.

Bakugo: You're good, Deku. But I'm better......

His voice cuts through the night air, low and confident. I grit my teeth, ignoring the heat that rises in my chest at the sound of his nickname for me. 

Deku. 

Who the hell does he think he is?

I shake my head and keep running. I've got no time to dwell on Bakugo's weirdly affectionate insults. I just need to focus on getting away. I leap across another building, landing hard on the roof and rolling to my feet. But Bakugo's voice still echoes in my mind.

You'll be back.

I hate to admit it, but he might be right. Something about this whole situation—the stolen box, the mystery client, Bakugo's strange interest in me—it all feels like a web I'm stuck in. No matter how far I run, I can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning.

As I sprint across the rooftops, my mind races with possibilities. What's in that box? Why does the client want me dead? And why does Bakugo, the guy who should be hunting me down for stealing from him, seem more... intrigued than angry?

You'll be back.

I'm already dreading the day I will be.