The door clicked softly behind me, cutting off the tension inside the room like a knife slicing through taut string. I didn't look at Bakugo right away. Instead, I leaned back against the wall, staring at the pristine hallway tiles, letting the silence settle.

Bakugo was fuming, pacing in that explosive, restless way he always did when things weren't going his way. His hands kept clenching and unclenching, sparks threatening to fly. But he didn't say a word, not yet.

Good. He needed to think before he spoke.

"He called me Kacchan," Bakugo finally growled, breaking the silence. His voice was low, rough, barely restrained.

"Yes," I said simply, my tone calm.

Bakugo whipped around, glaring at me. "You knew?"

"No," I replied, meeting his glare evenly. "But it makes sense now."

Bakugo scowled, running a hand through his hair. "This is messed up. That damn nerd—he's—he's supposed to be ours, and he's acting like we're the villains here!"

"Are we not?" I asked quietly, tilting my head.

Bakugo froze, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I straightened, crossing my arms. "Think about it, Bakugo. We've taken him from his life, locked him in a building with no way out, and declared him our mate without giving him a choice. How do you think that looks to him?"

Bakugo's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He just stood there, fists clenched, staring at me like I'd grown a second head.

"He's not going anywhere," Bakugo muttered. "He's ours. He belongs here."

"I agree," I said, surprising him. "But it's not that simple."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because he's not like other omegas," I said firmly. "He doesn't think like one. He doesn't act like one. And he's been alone for so long that the idea of being bound to us—being trapped—must feel like a death sentence."

Bakugo didn't respond right away, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered to the door we'd just left. He was thinking about it, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"He's broken," Bakugo said eventually, his voice softer, almost hesitant. "That's what he said. He doesn't feel the bond."

I nodded. "Yes. But that doesn't mean it's not there. We can feel it. That's proof enough."

"So what? We just sit around and wait for him to get with the program?"

"No," I said calmly. "We give him time. Space. We show him that he's not a prisoner here. That we're not his enemies."

Bakugo frowned, crossing his arms. "And what if he still doesn't come around? What then?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Then we keep trying. Because he's worth it."

Bakugo scoffed, shaking his head. "You're too soft, Icy Hot."

"And you're too impatient," I countered. "If you keep pushing him, you'll drive him further away. You saw how he lashed out. That wasn't just anger. That was desperation."

Bakugo stilled at that, his scowl deepening. "You think he's... what? Gonna snap or something?"

"It's possible," I said honestly. "An omega in captivity, feeling cornered, can break mentally. And from what we've seen, Izuku's already on edge."

"He's not weak," Bakugo said sharply, almost defensively.

"No, he's not," I agreed. "But everyone has a breaking point. Even him."

Bakugo didn't respond, but the tension in his posture shifted. He wasn't pacing anymore, wasn't bristling with barely contained anger. Instead, he looked... thoughtful.

"We need to be careful," I continued. "If he feels like there's no way out, he'll keep fighting us. But if we give him a reason to trust us, to believe that he's safe here, he might start to come around."

"And how the hell do we do that?" Bakugo muttered, glaring at the floor like it had personally offended him.

I shrugged. "Start small. Don't push him. Don't overwhelm him. Let him see that we're not trying to control him."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Bakugo muttered, but there was no real bite in his words.

I allowed myself a small smile. Progress.

"We'll figure it out," I said, my tone confident. "He's our mate. That means he's worth the effort."

Bakugo didn't respond, but he didn't argue either. And for now, that was enough.