Cross the Divide

Unspoken Bonds

The day dragged on, but the strange sense of normalcy began to return for Izuku. As much as he tried to focus on the lessons, his thoughts kept drifting back to his conversation with Shinso. The weight on his shoulders felt lighter now, but not gone. There was still so much to process.

After class ended, the students began filing out to the dorms. Izuku walked alongside Shinso, their quiet camaraderie carrying them in step with one another. They reached the common area where the rest of the class had already gathered, chatting about assignments and missions. The familiarity of the space comforted Izuku, though it was hard to shake the feeling of being out of place.

As Izuku scanned the room, his eyes landed on Kacchan. Bakugou stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching him. There was no yelling this time, no harsh words or glares—just that same unreadable expression. It wasn't often that Bakugou stayed quiet for this long, but the two of them had been walking on eggshells around each other since their conversation the night before.

Izuku sighed and sank onto the couch, Shinso sitting down beside him.

"How's it going?" Kaminari asked, throwing himself onto the opposite couch, legs sprawling across the cushions. His usual carefree grin seemed forced, like everyone was trying to maintain some semblance of normal.

Izuku forced a small smile. "It's... okay."

"You know, it's been kinda quiet around here lately. If you ask me, we could use a little more action," Kaminari added with a chuckle, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jirou rolled her eyes from where she sat nearby. "Sure, because what we need is more chaos."

Izuku offered a half-hearted chuckle, but his mind was elsewhere. The world may have been quieter now, but inside him, the storm still raged on.

Just as the conversation began to drift into familiar banter, Bakugou suddenly stepped forward, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. "Oi, Izuku."

Everyone's eyes snapped toward Bakugou, the air thickening with tension. Izuku swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah?"

Bakugou stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing his words carefully before speaking. "We're sparring. Now."

Izuku blinked, surprised by the abrupt demand. He had expected a confrontation, but not like this. The rest of the class exchanged glances, unsure whether they should intervene. But no one stopped him.

Shinso gave Izuku a sidelong glance. "You good?"

Izuku nodded, standing up. "I'm fine."

Bakugou didn't wait for him, already heading toward the training room. Izuku followed closely behind, his mind racing with questions. Was Bakugou angry at him? Or was this just another way of dealing with the complicated mess of emotions between them?

When they reached the training room, Bakugou turned to face him, arms still crossed. "No holding back, got it?"

Izuku barely had time to react before Bakugou lunged. The explosion that followed sent him skidding back, the heat of it licking at his skin. Bakugou wasn't joking—he was furious.

"Is this how it's gonna be?" Izuku shouted, dodging another blast. "You're just going to attack me without saying anything?"

"You don't get it!" Bakugou roared, launching himself at Izuku with another explosion. His attacks were wild, fueled by something deeper than anger. "You think you can just show up here, looking like him, acting like him, and everything's supposed to be fine?"

Izuku barely dodged in time, the force of Bakugou's blows sending shockwaves through the room. "I didn't choose this, Kacchan! I thought we already talked about this-"

"You didn't choose this?" Bakugou's voice was raw, full of a pain Izuku had never heard from him before. "You think any of us chose this? You think I wanted to watch you die? To lose the one damn person I thought I could always beat?"

Izuku's breath caught in his throat. The words stung more than the attacks. He could feel the rage pouring off Bakugou, but beneath it—beneath the explosions and the insults—there was something else. Grief. Hurt.

"I'm not him," Izuku shouted back, his own voice cracking. "I don't know what happened here, but that's not me. I survived in my world—I didn't sacrifice myself. I'm still here."

Bakugou's explosions intensified, the heat nearly unbearable as he charged forward again. "Then why does it feel like I'm still losing? Every time I look at you, all I see is him. And it pisses me off because I can't stop thinking—why the hell did he die and you get to live?"

The final explosion sent Izuku crashing into the wall, the impact knocking the breath out of him. He slumped to the ground, gasping for air as Bakugou stood over him, his chest heaving, eyes wild with fury.

"You're not him, Izuku. You'll never be him," Bakugou spat, his voice trembling. "And I hate that you get to stand here like none of it ever happened. Like we're the only ones still broken by it."

Izuku pushed himself up, the pain in his chest nothing compared to the ache in his heart. "You think I don't feel that too? I'm just as lost as you are, Kacchan. I don't know how to fix this."

Bakugou clenched his fists, the sparks fading as he lowered his arms. For a moment, they stood in the silence, the weight of everything between them hanging like a thick fog.

"I didn't want this either," Izuku whispered, his voice barely audible. "But I'm here now. And I don't know what that means, or why it happened. But I don't want to be your enemy, Kacchan. I just... I just want to be here."

Bakugou didn't say anything. He just stood there, breathing heavily, his gaze fixed on the floor. After a long, painful silence, he muttered, "You're not my enemy, Izuku. But you're not him either. And that's what pisses me off the most."

Izuku didn't have a response for that. There was nothing he could say to make it better.

"Let's go," Bakugou finally said, turning away. "We'll figure out the rest later."

And without another word, he walked out, leaving Izuku standing there in the aftermath of everything they'd unleashed. He wasn't sure if things were better or worse between them now, but at least something had shifted.

Maybe that was enough.