The sun hung low over the training field, casting long shadows across the grass as Class 1-A gathered for the final group exercise of the day. Sweat clung to Y/N's skin, her muscles aching from hours of drills, but her mind was sharp — focused.
Aizawa stood at the edge of the field, clipboard in hand. "Today's exercise is a multi-tiered obstacle simulation. You'll be split into teams of three. One leader, two support."
Y/N's name was called first.
"Y/N — team leader. Todoroki and Jirou, support."
Bakugo's jaw tightened.
Y/N glanced at him, heart thudding. He didn't meet their eyes.
Todoroki stepped forward, calm as ever. "Let's do this."
Jirou offered a small smile. "We've got your back."
Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the heat prickling at the back of their neck.
Bakugo was paired with Kirishima and Sero.
The simulation began.
Y/N's team moved through the course with precision — scaling walls, defusing traps, navigating terrain. Todoroki's ice carved paths through obstacles, while Jirou's sound waves detected hidden threats. Y/N coordinated their movements, issuing commands with clarity and confidence.
But Bakugo was watching.
Every time Y/N called out to Todoroki.
Every time Todoroki responded with quiet deference.
Every time Y/N touched his arm to redirect him.
Bakugo's explosions grew louder.
Less controlled.
Kirishima shot him a look. "You good, bro?"
Bakugo didn't answer.
At the final checkpoint, Y/N's team reached the goal first.
Aizawa nodded. "Efficient. Clean. Well-led."
Bakugo's team arrived seconds later — scorched, breathless, tense.
Aizawa frowned. "Sloppy coordination."
Bakugo's eyes burned.
—
Later, in the locker room, Y/N peeled off her gloves, the adrenaline still buzzing in her veins. Bakugo stormed in, slamming his locker open.
"You looked real cozy with Todoroki out there," he snapped.
Y/N turned slowly. "It was a team exercise."
"You touched him."
"I redirected him."
Bakugo stepped closer. "You smiled at him."
Y/N's voice was quiet. "I smile at you."
Bakugo's jaw clenched. "Not like that."
Y/N stared at him. "What are you really mad about?"
He didn't answer.
Just slammed the locker shut and walked out.
—
That night, Y/N found him on the rooftop, arms crossed, eyes locked on the horizon.
"You're jealous," she said.
Bakugo didn't look at them. "I don't trust him."
"He's not trying to take me."
Bakugo turned, eyes sharp. "He doesn't have to. You're already drifting."
Y/N stepped closer. "I'm not."
He looked away. "I don't know how to do this."
Y/N reached for his hand. "Then let's figure it out. Together."
Bakugo's grip was tight.
But his voice was soft.
"I don't want to lose you."
"You won't."
And in the quiet, the fault-lines held.
For now.