Amethyst. (Katsuki Bakugo x Reader)

PART 35 - Starting Point

My chest burned as if the Dragon's fire still licked along my ribs. The last glow of violet embers flickered across the stone, then sank back into silence. Beside me, Tokoyami was slumped against the wall, Dark Shadow curled tight around him like smoke retreating from a battlefield. Both of us were too exhausted to move.

The silence stretched - only the drip of water and my own ragged breathing. Then a voice, dry and steady, cut through the dark.

"You did well."

I jerked my head up. Aizawa stood there, arms folded, half-shadowed against the stone. He looked like he hadn't moved in hours.

"You-" My throat rasped. "You were here? The whole time?"

Tokoyami's eyes narrowed, feathers bristling faintly. "You remained still. While we lost control?"

Aizawa's expression didn't shift. "That was the point. No one could fight that for you."

The words landed like a stone in my chest. Anger, relief, pride - all tangled together. We'd survived. Only because no one had stepped in.

"Midoriya. Todoroki," Aizawa called, his voice flat as ever.

Footsteps rushed closer. Izuku came in first, pale and wide-eyed, already moving to Tokoyami. "Fumikage - you're okay, right? Here, lean on me." His hands were steady, his shoulders squared even though he looked ready to shake.

Shoto followed, his face unreadable as always. He slid under my arm without asking, his grip firm, careful. His voice was quiet, even. "You pushed too far."

I let out a rough laugh, half-breath, half-bitter. "Noticed that, did you?"

His eyes flicked to mine, just for a moment, before turning forward again. "You're still standing. That matters."

I frowned anyway, forcing out, "How did you even get here so fast?"

When we stepped outside, the sunlight hit me first - bright, too warm after the suffocating dark. Afternoon light filtered through the trees, sharp against my skin. Momo stood with the Pussycats. Pixie-Bob still had her hand pressed to the ground, the earth humming faintly from her Quirk. In Momo's hands was the shell of a smoke canister, still warm.

She met my eyes, her tone apologetic but steady. "I created blackout bombs and screens. To make the dark heavier. To make it feel endless."

So it hadn't been a vast cave swallowing us alive. Just walls, smoke, and illusions. Training.

Silence stretched, heavy in the warm afternoon air. Then Mina punched her fist high, her voice cutting through. "They did it!"

The tension broke. Laughter and cheers followed in uneven bursts - Denki with a shaky grin, Kirishima clapping Tokoyami's shoulder, even Jirou managing a smirk.

I drew a slow breath, the noise washing over me. Pride sat sharp in my chest. Unsteady. Dangerous.

My eyes flicked across the crowd, skimming faces I barely registered. Until they caught on him.

Bakugo.

He stood apart, arms crossed, jaw set, expression flat. Too calm. Too bored. He looked like he hadn't cared at all. But I knew better. Something about the way he held himself - still, coiled - it was an act.

Shoto shifted at my side, his grip steady on my arm. He followed my gaze, then spoke low enough only I could hear. "He argued with the teachers. Wanted to go in after you. They didn't let him."

The words hit harder than the sunlight.

Inside, the dragon stirred, smoke curling through my chest, its tone edged with mocking amusement.