Amethyst. (Katsuki Bakugo x Reader)

PART 36 - Blue Flames

Tiger's deep voice cut through the chatter, arms folded as his sharp gaze swept over both classes. "The ones doing the scaring aren't allowed to touch their victims," he said, no nonsense in his tone. "Use your Quirks to frighten them. The class that comes up with the most original ideas and makes the most people lose their shits will be declared the winner."

A low groan rippled through the group.

"Ugh, seriously?" Jirou muttered under her breath, her shoulders tense. "That's just disgusting."

Iida, of course, was already rigid with excitement, glasses flashing in the dim firelight. "I see! By turning this into a competition, they're encouraging us to expand our creativity and multiply the ways our Quirks can be applied. Classic U.A.!"

The clearing buzzed with noise as the rules sank in. Some students groaned, some laughed nervously, others boasted too loudly about how they'd never flinch. A line was forming at the edge of the forest, torches flickering against the press of trees that swallowed the last of the light.

Every three minutes, another pair disappeared into the dark. Jirou and Momo were sent first, their silhouettes swallowed almost instantly by the shadows. Shoji and Hagakure followed, her voice drifting back in uneven bursts until even that faded. The forest ate sound as much as sight.

"Three minutes between groups," Tiger barked, arms folded. "Keep it steady."

The wait stretched long, every pause heavy with anticipation. The closer they got, the more restless the students became. Nervous laughter, shuffling feet. The torchlight seemed weaker every time someone disappeared between the trees.

Beside me, Bakugo let out a sharp click of his tongue. "Tch. Pathetic. Freaking out over a campfire game." His arms were crossed, his shoulders wound tight like a spring.

Shoto stood on my other side, gaze fixed forward, expression unreadable as ever. "It isn't a game," he said evenly. "It's training."

Bakugo's eyes narrowed, a sharp grin cutting across his face. "Keep lecturing, Half-and-Half. See if anyone cares."

I kept my eyes on the tree line, lips twitching despite myself. "If this is teamwork practice, it's already going great."

Neither of them answered, which told me enough.

The burn in my chest hadn't eased. Each time another group disappeared into the forest, it flared sharper, like my ribs had learned to count the minutes.

The dragon's low hum rose from the silence, edged with disdain.
This isn't fear. It's weakness. And weakness is what kills.

My jaw tightened. "We're at a summer camp. No one's dying here."

The chuckle that followed scraped like ice against stone.
The suffocating fear in your lungs says otherwise, little flame.

Another scream tore out of the forest, cutting through the chatter. A few students laughed nervously. Others shifted on their feet, pretending not to be shaken.

The line grew shorter. Shoji and Hagakure hadn't been gone long before Ojiro and Aoyama followed. Their lights vanished between the trees, and the clearing felt smaller for it.

Tiger's voice snapped across the line. "Bakugo. Todoroki siblings. Move."

Bakugo's scowl deepened as he shoved forward. "About damn time."

Shoto stepped after him without a word, his calm a sharp contrast to Bakugo's growl.

I fell in behind them, the ground soft under my boots as the treeline closed around us. The noise from the clearing thinned fast, until all that was left was the crunch of our steps and the weight of the dark pressing in.
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