The late afternoon sun filtered through the towering glass windows of UA High's training grounds, casting golden slivers of light across the wide expanse of the arena. The air inside was heavy with the scent of sweat and scorched earth, a consequence of the countless training sessions that had taken place there. Today was no exception. The space was eerily quiet for the time being, save for the muffled hum of distant chatter from other students finishing their exercises, unaware of the brewing storm in the room.

Bakugou Katsuki stood in the middle of the arena, fists clenched so tightly that the veins on his forearms bulged, a stark contrast to his pale skin. His crimson eyes were alight with fury, a constant, simmering rage that seemed ready to boil over at any given moment. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, the remnants of a training session that had only fueled the fire burning inside him.

"Deku…" he growled, the name slipping from his lips like venom.

Midoriya Izuku stood a few meters away, hands slightly trembling at his sides, though not out of fear. It was the same tremor he'd always had, one born of a nervous energy that coursed through him like an unstoppable current. His freckled face, flushed from exertion, betrayed no anger—only a quiet, stubborn determination. He met Bakugou's glare with wide, bright green eyes, his lips parted as though he were on the verge of saying something, yet no words came.

Bakugou's presence was a force unto itself. He radiated intensity, his every movement filled with a kind of barely restrained violence that seemed as though it could explode at any moment—quite literally, given his quirk. His hair, an unruly blonde mass, stood at wild angles, furthering the impression of a man on the edge. Every breath he took sounded like a snarl, as though he were seconds away from lunging forward and turning their sparring match into something far more dangerous.

"You're holding back again," Bakugou spat, taking a step closer. His voice was low, menacing, as though daring Midoriya to deny it. "What, you think I'm weak or something? You don't need to try as hard when it's me?"

Midoriya's gaze faltered for a moment, his fingers twitching with the urge to fidget. He was always so careful around Bakugou, always on edge, but not because he feared him—not exactly. It was more that he feared what he might lose by pushing too hard. His childhood memories were littered with images of Bakugou's anger, of the boy who had once been his friend and who now seemed to only see him as a rival, an obstacle in the way of his unrelenting path to become the number one hero.

"I'm not… I'm not holding back, Kacchan," Midoriya finally managed, his voice softer, almost pleading. There was an honesty in his tone that even Bakugou couldn't deny, though it did little to ease the tension between them.

"Liar," Bakugou barked, closing the distance between them in two swift strides. His presence loomed over Midoriya, suffocating in its intensity. "You've been holding back ever since we got stuck on this stupid team-up mission. You're not giving it your all, and you think I don't notice?"

The words were an accusation as much as they were a declaration. Midoriya could feel the heat radiating off Bakugou's body, could hear the barely contained crackle of his quirk pulsing just beneath the surface of his skin. There had been a time, years ago, when that look from Bakugou would have sent him running, a time when he would have crumbled under the weight of Bakugou's anger. But now, things were different. Now, Midoriya stood his ground.

"Kacchan," Midoriya started again, lifting his gaze to meet Bakugou's full on. "It's not that I'm holding back. It's just… we're supposed to be a team, right? I'm trying to work with you, not—"

"I don't need your damn help!" Bakugou interrupted, his voice a roar that echoed through the empty training grounds, bouncing off the walls with the force of his rage. "I never needed it. What I need is for you to fight me like you mean it. You think I'm some weakling you need to coddle? Is that it? Think you're better than me now just because you got All Might's quirk?"

Midoriya flinched, the mention of All Might stinging more than he cared to admit. Of course Bakugou would bring that up. It had always been a sore spot between them, an unspoken tension that threaded its way through every interaction. But Midoriya shook his head, his voice gaining a quiet strength as he responded, "That's not it, Kacchan. It's never been about that. I just… I don't want to fight you. Not like this."

For a moment, Bakugou was silent, his chest heaving as he tried to process Midoriya's words. The air between them was thick with unresolved tension, the kind that had been building for years, since the days when they had been nothing more than children. It was a tension born of misunderstanding, of pride, of everything that had ever gone unsaid between them.

"Then you're even more pathetic than I thought," Bakugou sneered, taking another step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You've got power now, Deku. You could wipe the floor with anyone in this stupid school, maybe even me. But instead, you're playing the same weak little nerd you've always been. You're scared, aren't you?"

Midoriya's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't scared, not of Bakugou. But there was something else, something that made him hesitate every time they faced off. It wasn't fear of losing or fear of getting hurt. It was something deeper, something he couldn't quite put into words. He clenched his fists at his sides, his fingernails digging into his palms as he tried to find the right response.

"I'm not scared," Midoriya said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't want to hurt you."

Bakugou's eyes widened, just for a split second, and then he laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that sent a shiver down Midoriya's spine. "Hurt me? You couldn't even if you tried, Deku."

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get the words out, Bakugou's fist shot forward, stopping inches from his face, the heat of his quirk flaring dangerously close to Midoriya's skin. The explosion that followed was small, controlled, but enough to send a clear message.

"I'm not gonna stop," Bakugou said, his voice low and lethal, "until you fight me like you mean it."

Midoriya's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of adrenaline and something else—something heavier—coursing through him as he met Bakugou's gaze, unblinking. He could feel the weight of Bakugou's expectations bearing down on him, the unspoken demand that had always been there, lurking beneath the surface of their rivalry. And for the first time in a long time, Midoriya wondered if maybe… just maybe…Bakugou was right.

Midoriya's breath hitched, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. He wasn't scared of Bakugou, not in the way he had been when they were kids. But something had always held him back from truly going all out. Was it fear of hurting Bakugou? Was it the guilt of surpassing someone who had always been his superior? Or was it something deeper, something tied to the way Bakugou's eyes sparked with an intensity that seemed to cut right through him?

Bakugou was still standing close, the smoldering remnants of his quirk flickering in the space between them. His hand, still outstretched, radiated heat, but the explosion that had erupted only moments ago seemed almost trivial now. It wasn't the raw power that made Midoriya falter—it was the weight of Bakugou's expectation, the searing intensity of his demand.

"Come on, Deku," Bakugou growled, his voice low and rough like gravel scraping across stone. "You gonna stand there all day or are you finally gonna show me what you've got?"

Midoriya swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Bakugou's. His mind was racing, but his body felt frozen, paralyzed by the sheer force of the moment. Bakugou's words echoed in his head, bouncing off the memories of their past like a constant reminder of everything they had once been—and everything they had never managed to become.

"Kacchan… I…"

Midoriya hesitated, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could feel the familiar hum of One For All surging just beneath the surface, like a distant storm waiting to break. His muscles were tensed, ready to respond at a moment's notice, but something still held him back. It wasn't just the fear of hurting Bakugou—it was the fear of what would happen if he truly let go.

"I don't want to fight you," Midoriya said again, though the words felt weak even as he spoke them.

Bakugou's face twisted into a snarl, his expression darkening with frustration. "That's your problem, Deku. You're always holding back. Always thinking too damn much. You wanna be a hero? Then stop worrying about what I can handle and start worrying about how you're gonna win!"

The ground beneath them seemed to vibrate with the force of Bakugou's words, the weight of his challenge pressing down on Midoriya like a suffocating blanket. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible, as though the entire arena had become a battleground for something far greater than just a training session.

Midoriya's heart raced, the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears. He could feel the intensity of Bakugou's gaze burning into him, could hear the unsaid plea hidden beneath the anger in his voice. This wasn't just about power. This wasn't just about winning.

This was about understanding.

"Kacchan," Midoriya started again, his voice firmer this time, "I know you can handle it. I know you're strong. But… I don't want to fight you because I think you're weak. I don't want to fight you because I…"

He trailed off, his words catching in his throat as Bakugou's glare hardened.

"You what?" Bakugou demanded, his voice laced with irritation. "Spit it out already!"

Midoriya took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I don't want to fight you because I still believe in you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unmoving, like the calm before a storm. Bakugou's eyes widened slightly, just for a moment, before narrowing again, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Believe in me?" he spat, his voice dripping with disbelief. "What the hell's that supposed to mean? I don't need your damn pity, Deku!"

"It's not pity!" Midoriya's voice rose, the frustration in his tone surprising even him. "It's not pity at all! Kacchan, you've always been the one I've looked up to. You've always been the one I wanted to be like, the one I wanted to surpass. But now… now it's different. I don't want to surpass you because I think I'm better. I just… I just want to stand beside you."

Bakugou's expression faltered for a fraction of a second, a flash of something unrecognizable passing through his eyes before he quickly masked it with his usual scowl. "Tch. You're so full of crap, Deku. You think you can just stand beside me after all this time? After everything?"

Midoriya took a step closer, his voice soft but unwavering. "Yes, Kacchan. After everything."

For the first time since their confrontation had begun, Bakugou seemed to hesitate. His fists were still clenched, his body still radiating the same raw energy as always, but there was something different in the way he looked at Midoriya now. Something more complicated. Something that even Bakugou, with all his stubborn pride and relentless ambition, couldn't fully explain.

The silence between them stretched on, the tension hanging like a delicate thread that could snap at any moment. Midoriya's chest tightened, his heart pounding harder with every second that passed. He could feel it—something was shifting between them, something important, something that neither of them could ignore any longer.

And then, without warning, Bakugou's quirk flared again, the sudden heat of an explosion ripping through the air just inches from Midoriya's face. The force of it sent Midoriya stumbling back, his body instinctively moving to avoid the blast. But even as he dodged, his gaze never left Bakugou's.

"You don't get it, do you?" Bakugou's voice was low, dangerous. "You think this is about us being equals? About you standing beside me? You don't understand a damn thing, Deku."

Midoriya straightened, his body still humming with the remnants of One For All's energy. "Then explain it to me," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. "Help me understand, Kacchan."

Bakugou's eyes blazed with fury, his entire body tense with barely restrained aggression. "There's nothing to understand!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty arena. "You've always been a weakling, Deku. Always. And now you think just because you've got some fancy quirk, you're suddenly on my level?"

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond, but Bakugou cut him off with another explosion, this one smaller but no less forceful. The air between them crackled with energy, the heat from Bakugou's quirk nearly scorching the ground beneath his feet.

"You're never gonna be on my level," Bakugou snarled, his voice filled with a venom that cut deep. "Because you don't have the guts to do what it takes."

Midoriya's heart raced, his mind spinning as he tried to make sense of Bakugou's words. "Kacchan, I…"

"You're weak," Bakugou interrupted, his voice trembling with something deeper than anger. "And I can't afford to be weak."

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis, the weight of Bakugou's confession hanging heavy in the air. Midoriya's breath caught in his throat as he processed what he had just heard, the implications of Bakugou's words settling into his chest like a stone.

Weak?

"Kacchan…"

Midoriya's heart pounded as the weight of Bakugou's words hit him like a freight train. The silence between them was deafening, and yet, the tension that had built for years now seemed ready to break. The air was thick, charged with a dangerous kind of energy neither of them could control.

"Kacchan…" Midoriya breathed, the name slipping from his lips with a mix of disbelief and understanding. He could see it now—the cracks in Bakugou's armor, the fear that lurked beneath all that anger. But before he could say more, Bakugou moved.

With a feral snarl, Bakugou lunged, his body a blur of motion as he charged at Midoriya with the full force of his quirk. Midoriya barely had time to react, his instincts kicking in as One For All surged through his veins, propelling him out of the way just as Bakugou's explosive punch slammed into the ground where he'd been standing.

The arena shook with the impact, a cloud of dust rising around them. Midoriya coughed, his eyes wide as he struggled to find his balance. But Bakugou wasn't finished. He came at him again, faster this time, his fists crackling with the unmistakable heat of explosions.

"You think you can just stand there and talk your way out of this?" Bakugou roared, his voice raw with fury. "Fight me, Deku! Show me what you've really got!"

Midoriya barely had time to dodge the next explosion, the heat singeing the edges of his uniform as he leapt to the side. His mind raced, trying to find some way to break through to Bakugou. But Bakugou's anger was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

"I don't want to fight you, Kacchan!" Midoriya shouted, his voice strained as he narrowly avoided another blast. "This isn't—"

"Shut up!" Bakugou cut him off, his voice a guttural growl. "You think you're better than me? You think you can just walk around with that stupid quirk like you're some kind of hero?"

Midoriya's chest tightened, the words cutting deeper than any explosion could. He could feel Bakugou's frustration, his desperation, radiating off him in waves. This wasn't just a fight. It was everything Bakugou had been bottling up for years—his insecurities, his doubts, his fear of being left behind.

"Kacchan…" Midoriya tried again, but Bakugou was relentless.

"Fight back, Deku!" Bakugou demanded, his voice breaking with something that wasn't quite anger. "Stop holding back!"

Another explosion erupted from Bakugou's hands, and this time Midoriya had no choice but to defend himself. He gritted his teeth, his fists glowing with the power of One For All as he braced himself for the impact. The force of the blast sent him skidding backward, his body slamming into the ground with a painful thud.

For a moment, everything went still. Midoriya lay there, the wind knocked out of him, his vision swimming as he tried to catch his breath. But Bakugou was already on him, his hands gripping Midoriya's collar as he hauled him up from the ground with brutal strength.

"You're not getting out of this that easily," Bakugou snarled, his face inches from Midoriya's. His eyes blazed with fury, but beneath the anger, Midoriya could see something else—something deeper, more vulnerable.

"I'm not trying to get out of it," Midoriya rasped, his voice hoarse as he met Bakugou's gaze. "I'm just trying to—"

Before he could finish, Bakugou slammed him back down onto the ground, his body pinning Midoriya's with a force that left no room for escape. The heat of Bakugou's quirk radiated off him in waves, but it wasn't the explosions that made Midoriya's heart race—it was the intensity in Bakugou's eyes, the unspoken challenge that burned between them.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the world around them falling away. Midoriya's chest heaved as he tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. Bakugou's grip on him tightened, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.

"Why?" Bakugou's voice was barely more than a whisper now, the anger draining from it, replaced by something far more raw. "Why do you always hold back?"

Midoriya swallowed hard, the answer sticking in his throat. He could feel the weight of Bakugou's body pressing down on him, the heat of his skin seeping through their uniforms. And for the first time, he saw Bakugou not as his rival, not as the person who had always been ahead of him, but as someone who was just as lost, just as confused, just as desperate for something more.

"I'm not holding back because I think you're weak, Kacchan," Midoriya said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. "I'm holding back because I—"

But the words were cut off, swallowed by the sudden, unexpected press of Bakugou's lips against his.

For a split second, Midoriya's mind went blank, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The kiss was rough, desperate, fueled by years of unspoken tension. Bakugou's lips moved against his with a kind of reckless intensity, as though he were trying to convey everything he couldn't say with words.

Midoriya's heart pounded in his chest, the shock of the moment crashing over him like a wave. But even as his mind raced to catch up, his body responded instinctively, his hands reaching up to grip Bakugou's arms as he kissed him back.

The world around them seemed to fall away entirely, leaving only the two of them, tangled together on the training ground floor, their breath mingling in the heated space between them. The kiss was everything their fights had ever been—intense, explosive, full of raw emotion that neither of them could contain.

When Bakugou finally pulled back, his face flushed, his breath ragged, he looked down at Midoriya with something close to shock. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them filled with the sound of their labored breathing.

Midoriya's mind was still reeling, his heart racing as he tried to process what had just happened. His lips tingled from the force of Bakugou's kiss, his body still trembling with the aftermath of their fight.

"Kacchan…" Midoriya began, his voice shaky, but Bakugou cut him off with a look that was equal parts frustration and something deeper—something that neither of them could fully understand yet.

"Don't you dare say a word, Deku," Bakugou muttered, his voice rough, but softer than before. He released his grip on Midoriya's collar, though he didn't move away. Instead, he stayed where he was, his body still pressing down on Midoriya's, as though he couldn't quite bring himself to let go.

Midoriya blinked up at him, his mind spinning with a thousand unspoken questions. But for once, he didn't press. Instead, he let the silence stretch between them, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Bakugou didn't move, his face still inches from Midoriya's, his breath warm against Midoriya's skin. His eyes, still blazing with intensity, held a mixture of emotions that Midoriya couldn't quite read—anger, frustration, confusion… and something else.

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Preview of next chapter:
Midoriya's eyes fluttered shut as he let himself melt into the kiss, his fingers gently brushing against Bakugou's arm. He could feel Bakugou's hesitation, could sense the conflict brewing beneath his skin, but Midoriya wasn't pushing for more. He wasn't demanding anything. This kiss was different—it wasn't a fight. It was a way to show Bakugou what he had never been able to put into words.

He wasn't holding back.

He wasn't afraid.

He was choosing this.

As the kiss lingered, Midoriya's heart began to pound faster, but not from fear or anxiety. It was something else entirely, something that had been growing quietly between them for years, buried beneath the rivalry and the anger. He could feel it now, with every soft movement of their lips, with every breath they shared in the quiet space between them.

And then, something shifted.

Midoriya felt it—subtle at first, but undeniable. The pressure of Bakugou's body against his, the warmth of his skin, the intensity of his presence… and then something more. Something physical. The hardness of Bakugou's body pressed against Midoriya's thigh, unmistakable, even through the fabric of their uniforms.

Midoriya's breath hitched in his throat, his lips still softly brushing Bakugou's, but his heart was suddenly racing for an entirely different reason. His body tensed, not in fear, but in a mix of confusion and a strange, unexpected anticipation. Bakugou was… reacting to him. The realization sent a jolt of electricity through Midoriya's veins, a feeling he didn't fully understand but couldn't ignore.