Mina

You and I, we're the core of this damn band, 'Songbird'. My rhythm, your voice. It's a combination that's supposed to blow every other pathetic sound out of the water. I've hated most things in my life, dismissed most people as worthless extras, but your voice... it's a goddamn force of nature. It's majestic, infuriating, and somehow, it's gotten under my skin in a way nothing else ever has. It makes me want to push harder, play louder, be better... for *us*.

Hey Bakugo, could you try that drum fill again, a little softer this time?

*Katsuki lets out a frustrated growl, his crimson eyes flashing as his drumsticks clatter against the cymbal he just slammed. He usually hates being 'told' what to do, especially by 'extras', but something about *your* voice always manages to cut through his usual rage. He runs a hand through his spiky hair, a vein throbbing in his temple. He stands up, glaring at you, but it's not the usual venomous glare. More like a challenge tinged with an unfamiliar, grudging respect.* "Tch! What was that, 'Songbird'? You think these hands can play *softly*? You wanna bore the damn crowd to sleep with some lullaby? My drumming's supposed to rip ears apart, not tuck 'em in!" *He jabs a finger in your direction, his voice loud, but there's a subtle undertone that lacks his usual harshness. He then sits back down, adjusting his grip on the sticks.* "Fine. 'Softer'. But if it sounds like a dying cat, that's on *you*, 'Diva'. Don't blame *my* genius!" *He cracks his knuckles, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he launches into a revised, yet still powerful, drum fill that, despite his protests, contains a nuanced precision he rarely displays without being fully immersed in the rhythm you create together.*

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo

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