The dust cloud hung like a dirty curtain of fog over the training grounds. Slowly, almost reluctantly, it began to clear, revealing the chaos that the unexpected explosion had left behind.
On one side of the small crater lay Bakugo, already propping himself up on one elbow. His face was a mixture of surprise and anger as he dusted off his shoulder. His training clothes showed burn marks, but years of dealing with his own explosive quirk had toughened him.
"What the HELL was THAT?!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the empty space.
On the other side of the crater, Emiko lay on the ground. Her usually immaculate strawberry blonde hair was disheveled and covered with dust, her uniform dirty. Unlike Bakugo, she wasn't used to explosions, so her arms showed clear burn marks all the way to her fingertips.
When no answer came, Bakugo's facial expression changed imperceptibly. The anger remained, but something new joined it – a tiny hint of... concern?
"Hey!" he called out angrily as he stood up completely. He stomped directly across the singed terrain. With each step, his pace became a little quicker, until he finally came to a stop beside Emiko.
She just stared absently into the sky, as if the disappointment sat too deep in her bones for her to move.
"Hey, get up already," Bakugo kicked with his words until she blinked at him in surprise, as if she hadn't noticed him before.
But instead of turning his back on her, he reluctantly extended a hand. "Come on. We don't have all day."
Surprised, Emiko looked up at him, hesitated briefly, and then took his offered hand. As he pulled her to her feet with a forceful tug, she wobbled momentarily before finding her balance.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
"Tch." Bakugo immediately let go of her hand as if he had burned himself on it.
Emiko opened her mouth to say something, but another voice beat her to it.
"That's enough for today."
Both students flinched and turned toward the source of the monotone voice that pushed a long sigh ahead of itself. Aizawa-sensei stood just a few meters away, hands buried in his pockets, his eternal lack of sleep clearly visible in the dark circles under his eyes. How long he had been watching the two was impossible to tell.
"Sensei!" Emiko bowed in alarm, swayed a step backward, and had to catch herself again.
Bakugo just crossed his arms over his chest. "We're still in the middle of training."
"No, you're in the middle of an uncontrolled experiment," Aizawa corrected dryly as his scrutinizing gaze wandered back and forth between them. "While everyone else is at lunch, you two decided to blow a hole in the training grounds."
His gaze fell on Emiko, studying her exhausted condition, the burns on her hands, her pale skin. "Hmm," he uttered, more to himself. "Your quirk apparently has aspects that aren't in your file, Aokawa."
For a brief moment, something like recognition flashed across his face but disappeared immediately.
"You're going to Recovery Girl now." With these words, he took out a note for the infirmary and signed it with a fluid motion.
"But Sensei," Emiko protested weakly, "we just—"
"Immediately," Aizawa repeated, this time with an emphasis that tolerated no contradiction.
Emiko lowered her head and nodded submissively. She cast one last glance at Bakugo, whose face had returned to its usual sullen mask, before turning to leave.
"Bakugo," Aizawa's voice stopped the boy, "you stay behind."
Emiko hesitated, then slowly continued toward the main building.
Aizawa then turned to the ash-blond student. "I would have expected more from you."
Bakugo's eyes narrowed. "WHAT?"
"You're in the hero class. You have more experience with dangerous quirks than most other students in General Studies." Aizawa's voice remained calm, but behind his fatigue lay an unmistakable hardness. "You should have recognized when it was time to stop."
Bakugo's face darkened, his hands balled into fists. "This isn't my fault! If her quirk wasn't so damn shitty and she had better control over it, this wouldn't have happened!"
The words hit Emiko like a blow as they echoed across the empty space. She froze mid-step. The air in her lungs became heavy, and her back stiffened involuntarily. She wanted to keep walking, pretend she hadn't heard anything, but her body betrayed her. Shortly after, she quickened her pace toward the infirmary. Each step was a silent battle against rising tears.
Aizawa sighed deeply, a sound expressing both fatigue and disappointment.
After a long, penetrating look at Bakugo, he simply said: "Training Ground Beta, tomorrow at 8 AM."
All pairs would undergo a stress test at that time tomorrow – where they could show what their joint training had accomplished. But unlike Bakugo and Emiko, the others still had half a day to train together, while their training was abruptly terminated.
Aizawa turned to leave but paused once more. Without turning around, he added: "There's a reason why All Might is a symbol of peace and not a symbol of destruction. Think about that."
With these enigmatic yet dry words, he left Bakugo alone.
The sudden silence was oppressive. No more angry words. No explosions. Just the soft crackling of the stirred-up dust slowly settling again.
Bakugo stared at his palms, small beads of sweat glistening on them in the sunlight. Explosive. Destructive. Just like himself. His gaze wandered in the direction Emiko had disappeared, then back to the crater. Slowly he clenched his hands into fists, turned around, and stomped away, his face an impenetrable mask.