"You think I care? I'll make 'em see," He hissed, not stepping back or relaxing his grip when Shigaraki leaned back. He refused to show any weakness as long as he could help it.

Despite his resolve, the mocking way the taller man spoke his name cut through his nerves like knives, more than the threat itself. He knew Shigaraki could kill him, but like hell he'd let him. His grip on his wrists tightened, possibly painfully. He hoped it was painful, the son of a bitch. "You're trash. You're a fucking phenomenon because you're living, breathing trash. You shouldn't be alive."