Bakugo's POV:

I can't help but keep my eyes on him. There's something about the way he moves, like he's always half a second away from bolting, even when we're just talking. I've seen a lot of people come and go, had to deal with my fair share of liars, cheats, and rats. But Deku—he's different.

He doesn't remember me. Doesn't remember anything. But I do. I remember everything. How could I forget? The way he used to trail behind me like a little lost puppy, the way his eyes would light up when he talked about stupid hero shit, the way he saved me that day...

And now? Now he's in front of me again, pretending like we're strangers, like we haven't been through something. 

Doesn't matter. 

I'll remind him. 

Slowly. 

No need to rush things, not when he doesn't even realize what's between us yet.

Me: You gonna keep fidgeting, or are you actually gonna tell me what's on your mind, Deku?

He flinches at the name—just like every other time I've said it. 

He doesn't know it yet, but he'll get used to it again.

A small part of me is almost afraid he won't. But I push that thought aside. It's too late for second-guessing.

Izuku: I'm not fidgeting, I'm... thinking. There's a difference.

He crosses his arms, leaning back in the chair like he owns the place. But I see it—the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch. He's nervous. He thinks he's hiding it, but he's an open book if you know what to look for.

Me: Tch. Yeah, sure, 'thinking.' That's why you've been eyeing the door every five seconds like someone's gonna bust through.

I take a step closer. Just one. Close enough to catch the way his breath hitches when he realizes how near I am, but not close enough to push him too far.

Slow, remember? 

Can't just dive headfirst into this like I usually do.

Izuku: I'm not—

Me: Yeah, you are.

 I cut him off with a smirk, letting my gaze linger on him a little longer than necessary. 

Me: What's the matter, Deku? Scared of me?

He scoffs, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes. Something I haven't seen before.

Izuku: Please, Bakugo, if I was scared of you, I wouldn't be sitting here in the room you assigned to me. I can handle you just fine.

I laugh. A real one. He's got guts, I'll give him that. It's one of the things that's always drawn me to him. That and the fact that, even now, he doesn't back down. Not from me, not from anyone.

Me: You think you can handle me?

 I lean in, just a bit, letting my voice drop low. 

Me: We'll see about that.

He swallows hard, but I don't miss the slight blush creeping up his neck. He's trying to play it cool, but I know when someone's reacting to me.

I could make this easy for both of us—close the distance, make him squirm, let him feel just how familiar we could be. But I don't. Not yet.

Instead, I pull back, just enough to give him some air, but not enough for him to get comfortable. He's still off-balance, still trying to figure me out.

Me: Anyway, you gonna tell me why you're really here, or are we gonna keep dancing around it?... I am giving you a week but if you need help, I need to know what kind of help.

Izuku shifts in his seat, biting his lip—nervous habit, I remember that. I can't help but stare for a moment, watching the way his teeth graze over the skin. He's gotten under my skin, just like he used to. 

Damn it, Deku.

Izuku: Look, I... I need a favor.

That's it. 

That's the moment I've been waiting for. I knew he was hiding something. He always does.

Me: A favor, huh?

 I raise an eyebrow, leaning back and crossing my arms over my chest. 

Me: What makes you think I'd do anything for you?

Izuku hesitates, then looks away, his voice quiet. 

Izuku: Because... you're not like the others.

The words hit me harder than I expect. He doesn't even know what he's saying, but somehow, he still manages to pull at the one thread that unravels me. He said these words to me when every child ran away from me.... he was still the same.

I step closer again, this time moving slowly, deliberately. I'm right in front of him now, close enough to see the slight tremble in his fingers as they rest on his knee.

Me: You're right. I'm not like the others. But don't think that means you can play me, Deku. I don't forget anything. Especially not you.

I reach out, fingers grazing his chin lightly, lifting his face so he's forced to look at me. His eyes widen, and for a second, I swear I see something flicker there—recognition, maybe? But it's gone just as quickly as it came.

Izuku: W-What are you—

Me: Shh,

 I whisper, my voice softer than I meant it to be. 

Me: You don't have to say anything.

I drop my hand, but not before letting my thumb brush over his bottom lip for just a second. It's enough to make him freeze, enough to remind him that I'm not playing around anymore.

Me: You'll get your favor, Deku. But don't think for a second that I'm not onto you.

He stares at me, speechless for once. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like we're finally on the same page, even if he doesn't realize it yet.