Book 1: Beyond The Blast (Bkdk)

Aizawa's Observation

The late afternoon sun bled across the UA dorms, casting long shadows that stretched like tired fingers across the worn pavement. Aizawa, his hair a mess from a long day of paperwork, knocked sharply on Izuku's door. Opening it cautiously, Izuku was met with the familiar tired eyes and signature scowl of his homeroom teacher.
"Midoriya," Aizawa started, his voice as rough as sandpaper, "Cut the pleasantries. You and Bakugou. To the roof. Now."

Aizawa's gruffness never failed to send shivers down Izuku's spine. This time, however, it was laced with a hint of something else - curiosity? His mind raced with possibilities. The incident with the villain and their amplified connection felt like a secret too big to hide, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. They walked in silence, the rhythmic click-clack of Aizawa's boots echoing through the deserted hallways. As they reached the rooftop, the cool evening air washed over them, carrying a faint scent of disinfectant from the nearby infirmary.

It was a place for quiet conversations and strategic planning, a refuge for weary heroes. Aizawa turned, his gaze pinning Izuku like a hawk. "Don't play dumb, Midoriya," he said, his voice low and serious. "Since the villain incident, there's been a shift. Your teamwork... it's sharper, more instinctive. Call it a hunch, but I suspect there's something more at play here." Izuku's heart hammered against his ribs. Aizawa had always been observant, and the way he phrased it -
"something more" - sent a jolt of nervous excitement through him.

Should he be honest? Could he trust his gruff teacher with their secret? Just then, a flicker of movement down below caught his eye. Bakugou was approaching, his signature scowl seemingly etched deeper than usual. Aizawa raised a knowing eyebrow. "Ah, looks like your partner-in-crime decided to join the party," he said, a hint of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. He turned towards Bakugou, his voice laced with a teasing lilt. "Care to explain what's going on between you two, or should I call Recovery Girl to check for any lingering quirk malfunctions?"

Bakugou bristled at the insinuation, his face reddening as quickly as the setting sun. Yet, a flicker of something almost akin to worry crossed his features. Izuku, sensing his rival's unease, blurted out before he could stop himself, "It's not a malfunction, Sensei! It's..." He trailed off, scrambling for the words that wouldn't betray their shared secret or sound like a crazy conspiracy theory. Aizawa sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of countless late nights marking papers. He gestured for them both to sit down on the edge of the roof, the city lights twinkling like scattered fireflies below.

"Listen," he said, his voice softening slightly, a rare display of vulnerability that caught Izuku off guard. "Whatever's happening... it's new, it's unexpected, and it's got the potential to be both a strength and a weakness. Right now, you're both riding this wave without any real understanding." He leaned forward, his black eyes boring into theirs. "So, consider this a warning," he said, his tone turning serious again. "This connection, whatever it is, needs to be handled with caution.

Learn how to control it, establish boundaries, and for heaven's sake, learn to communicate with each other." There was a weary frustration in his voice, a hint of concern for his students venturing into unknown territory. Aizawa paused, a knowing glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Izuku's spine. "Because trust me, kids," he continued, his voice low, "this 'bridge' between you could be your greatest asset... or your biggest liability."

With that final ominous statement, Aizawa stood up, his usual stoic demeanor back in place. He gave a curt nod and disappeared down the stairs, leaving them alone on the rooftop with the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a challenge and a warning rolled into one.
Izuku and Bakugou exchanged a hesitant glance, both grappling with the implications of Aizawa's observation.

The thrill of their amplified connection, the ease of communicating without words, was tempered with the realization of the responsibility it entailed. They had a choice to make - navigate this uncharted territory together, with all its risks and uncertainties, or risk losing the very thing that made their teamwork