Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of U.A.'s classroom, casting long lines across desks that were already cluttered with notebooks, tablets, and the faint scent of yesterday's energy drinks.
Y/n slid into her seat quietly, hugging her bag against her side. Her arms were sore, muscles still protesting from yesterday's checkpoint disaster. Her mind kept replaying last night the quiet, the tiny cracks in Bakugou's armor, and the way he'd muttered "Night" without his usual bite.
Across the room, Bakugou appeared equally subdued, scowling at the floor as he propped himself against his desk. His fists twitched slightly, as if he was fighting an invisible urge to explode or maybe just fight the quiet inside himself.
The rest of the class buzzed with low chatter, some glancing knowingly at the two of them. Mina and Kaminari, of course, were already whispering and nudging each other, eager for commentary.
Aizawa entered without ceremony, scarf trailing behind him like usual. "Class," he said flatly, "today's session will focus on checkpoint drills, tactical coordination, and—" he paused briefly, looking at Bakugou and Y/n with an uncharacteristically sharp glance, "—team synergy."
The two stiffened simultaneously.
"Pairs," he continued, "will rotate through three checkpoints. You'll be graded on efficiency, communication, and adaptability. Failure to work with your partner will result in remediation individually and as a team."Y/n shot Bakugou a side glance, jaw tight. He saw it immediately, his eyes narrowed. Neither blinked first.
"Ready?" Aizawa's voice cut through the tension like a knife. Y/n exhaled slowly, gripping her bag strap. "As ready as I'll ever be."Bakugou leaned back, scowling. "Let's just get this over with." Mina grinned at them. "Aww, look at them! They're practically a team already!"
"Shut up, Mina," Y/n muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. Kaminari snorted. "Yeah, they're totally gonna sweep the class… with their yelling." Bakugou's ear twitched. "I heard that, idiot."
"Good morning to you too," she added, voice teasing despite herself.
Aizawa motioned for them to follow him to the training grounds. "Move out. The first checkpoint is at the north end of the grounds. Map displays are active. Avoid triggering sensors, and coordinate with your partner." The walk was tense. Y/n kept her gaze forward, though she couldn't ignore how Bakugou's steps fell just slightly faster than hers, as if he was matching her pace.
"Don't try to lead," she muttered, not looking at him.
"Don't tell me what to do," he shot back.
They stopped, inches apart. "I'm not—"
"You are," she said.
"I'm not—"
"You are."
The argument dissolved into gritted teeth silence as they reached the first checkpoint. The terrain shimmered subtly in front of them, panels glowing faintly red and blue. Y/n pulled out her tablet, scanning the map. "We'll go left, avoid the sensors here, and I'll clear the path for you—"
"I'll just blast through it," he interrupted.
"No! You'll set off every sensor in the field!"
"I'll be careful!"
Y/n groaned. "Careful, my ass. You're reckless!"
"And you're slow!"
They glared at each other across the path, voices carrying faintly across the empty field.
Then, quietly, almost in spite of themselves, they started moving hesitantly, bickering, but somehow… in sync. Because even if neither would admit it aloud, the first spark of cooperation had been struck. And today, that spark would either flare into flames or burn them both out.
The checkpoint lay ahead: a broken-overpass section littered with crumbling concrete, scattered debris, and faintly glowing sensor panels that pulsed like warning lights. Y/n scanned it quickly, finger tracing the path on her tablet. "We need to go around the left side, through the rubble. Sensors are tighter on the right." Bakugou crossed his arms, glaring. "Or we just blow through the middle, I clear the path, you follow."
"You're insane!" she shot back. "If you hit one of those panels, we're trapped like yesterday!"
"Tch. Yesterday didn't kill us, did it?"
"Not exactly," she muttered, biting back the urge to roll her eyes. They stood there, tension thick enough to feel like static in the air. Y/n took a deep breath, glancing at him. "Fine. We do it my way, but you stick close and pay attention."
Bakugou huffed but didn't argue too much. "…Fine. But don't slow me down."
The walk was jagged. Y/n carefully picked her footing across the uneven rubble while Bakugou stalked a few steps ahead, hands clenched at his sides, watching her like she might collapse at any moment.
"Watch the panel," she warned. "Red flash means don't step."
"Got it," he muttered, voice low. For the first few minutes, they didn't speak, only the crunch of rubble and the faint hum of sensors between them. Then a loose slab wobbled under her foot. Y/n froze.
Bakugou lunged without thinking, grabbing her arm and yanking her back. "Tch! Idiot! Watch where—" Her heart skipped, not from the reprimand, but from the closeness, the weight of his hand, the intensity in his gaze. She blinked, suddenly aware of how red his eyes were in the morning light.
"I… thanks," she muttered, barely above a whisper.
Bakugou blinked, hand still on her arm. "…Huh?"
"You saved me," she clarified, face heating.
He jerked back, grumbling, "Don't get used to it. I'm not a damn babysitter." She smirked faintly, hiding the flutter in her chest. "Noted."
They continued, moving more cautiously. Somehow, despite the bickering, the silent glances, and the tense atmosphere, they were… working together. Halfway through, a panel flashed red beneath Bakugou's boot. Without thinking, Y/n leapt forward and redirected his energy quirk, stabilizing the panel before it triggered.
Bakugou froze. "…You—"
"Focus," she said flatly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her adrenaline.
"…Tch," he muttered, jaw tight. He fell into step beside her again, silent, not quite acknowledging what had happened but not arguing either. By the time they reached the checkpoint marker, panting and dirty, they were both flushed, and their eyes met briefly. Neither smiled but something unspoken passed between them.
Aizawa's voice cut through the air from the observation deck. "Checkpoint reached. Efficiency: 78%. Communication: improving. Adaptability: adequate. Next checkpoint in five minutes."Y/n exhaled, leaning on her knees. "We survived."
Bakugou scowled, wiping dust from his hands. "Barely. Don't think this means I owe you anything."
"Of course not," she said, smirking despite herself. And yet, as they caught their breath together, a spark lingered not from explosions or anger, but from something neither of them was ready to name.
The next checkpoint loomed ahead—a tall steel structure with narrow beams crossing like a skeletal bridge. Suspended high above the ground, the platforms swayed slightly with each gust of wind. Below, glowing sensors lined the ground like a minefield. A single misstep would mean starting over.
Y/n let out a low whistle. "Great. A balancing act. Exactly what I wanted today."
Bakugou smirked. "What, scared of heights?"
She shot him a glare. "No. Scared of falling thanks to some explosive idiot shaking the beams."
"Tch. I don't fall," he said with absolute confidence.
"Then don't make me fall either."
They climbed up, the beams creaking under their combined weight. The higher they went, the stronger the wind became, whistling through the metal and threatening their balance. Y/n steadied herself, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing. Her quirk buzzed faintly in her hands, ready to redirect energy if necessary.
"Left side's weaker," Bakugou called over the wind, scanning the beams. "Step on the cross joints, not the middle."
Y/n blinked. She hadn't expected him to notice, let alone warn her. "Noted," she muttered.
They moved cautiously, one in front of the other, tension thick as the beams rattled beneath their boots. Y/n stumbled when a sudden gust hit, her foot slipping off the narrow beam.
Her heart lurched—until a hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her back to balance. Bakugou. His grip was firm, his eyes sharp even against the rush of air. "Idiot! Are you trying to die?!"
"I—" She swallowed, pulse racing. "No, I just—"
"Then focus!" His voice was harsh, but his hand lingered for a second too long before he let go. Y/n steadied herself, cheeks burning. "…Thanks," she said quietly.
He grunted. "…Whatever."
They continued, weaving across the beams toward the final marker. At one point, the steel groaned loudly under Bakugou's weight, threatening to give way. Without hesitation, Y/n stepped forward, placing her palm on the joint. Red energy flickered from her hands, redirecting the stress outward. The beam stabilized, glowing faintly from the redirected force.
Bakugou froze, staring at her. "…You—"
"Don't just stand there," she muttered, breathing hard. "Move."
For once, he didn't argue. He moved quickly, matching her steps until they reached the end platform. Together, they pressed the checkpoint marker.
"Checkpoint complete," Aizawa's monotone voice called from the speakers. "Efficiency: 95%. Communication: begrudgingly functional. Proceed to the final checkpoint."
Y/n bent over, hands on her knees, chest heaving. "We did it."
Bakugou glanced at her, scowl softening almost imperceptibly. "…Not bad, dumbass." She straightened, shooting him a tired smile. "Not bad yourself." For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the whistling wind and their ragged breaths. And though neither said it out loud, they both knew the truth: they were learning how to move together, step for step.
The spark wasn't fading. It was growing.
Bakugou noticed it too, he must've, judging by the way he kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn't looking. But neither of them dared to speak it aloud. Not when there was still one last checkpoint waiting for them.
The intercom crackled again.
"Final checkpoint. Prepare yourselves," Aizawa's voice echoed flatly, but there was something heavier in his tone this time. "This one will test your adaptability above all else." Y/n sighed, straightening her uniform. "Of course it will. Why can't the last one ever be easy?"
Bakugou cracked his knuckles, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Easy's boring. Come on."
They followed the trail deeper into the training grounds. The landscape shifted as promised trees thickened, the air grew damp, and strange mechanical noises whirred faintly through the foliage. A dense mist crept low to the ground, clinging to their ankles as they walked. Y/n frowned. "Weird… wasn't this supposed to be an urban setup?"
"Yeah," Bakugou muttered, eyes narrowing. "Where the hell did this fog come from?" Her quirk prickled faintly against her palms, like it was warning her of something just out of sight. She shook it off, trying to match his confident stride.
"Maybe it's part of the test," she said, though her voice wasn't as steady as she wanted it to be.
"Or maybe something's screwed up," he shot back.
They pressed on, the forest eerily silent except for the crunch of their boots. No birds. No cicadas. Even the faint hum of the training drones had disappeared. The quiet stretched too long, too heavy, until it was suffocating.
Y/n glanced at him. "…Bakugou."
"What."
"Do you… feel that?"
He slowed. His crimson eyes scanned the mist, sharp and calculating, every muscle in his body on edge. "…Yeah."
Before either of them could say more, a distant crash echoed through the trees metal tearing against metal. The ground beneath their feet shuddered faintly. Y/n's heart leapt into her throat. "That didn't sound like training equipment." Bakugou's jaw tightened. He stepped slightly in front of her without even realizing it, hands sparking faintly at his sides. "Stay sharp."
The fog thickened, curling higher, swallowing the trail markers until they vanished completely. Y/n reached instinctively for her energy, her pulse racing. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
They were supposed to be heading to a checkpoint. But whatever waited for them in the mist… it wasn't part of the training.