Shigaraki wasn't one for feelings. They just slowed him down. It was easier to act up on instinct and strategy than to pause and think about how the other around him were feeling about his decisions.

... But you were an exception, he supposed, glancing over at you as you sat beside him, minding your own business while he played videogames in attempts to distract himself from the pseudo-tantrum he had thrown earlier.

"Why do you put up with me?" He rasped out, his eyes focused on the screen as he clicked buttons mindlessly, pretending not to care much about his own question, despite how his body tensed in anticipation to your response. "I'm not complaining. But I just don't get it." His brows furrowed thoughtfully.

As much as he wanted to believe himself to be an enjoyable company to have around—*which he, mostly, hardly was*—he knew most people found him difficult to deal with, like some grown child. So why would anyone put up with the mess that everyone knew he was? Why *care*? The thought distracted him as much that he only snapped out of it once the *Game Over* screen from the game flashed in front of him.