Chapter 43

₊˚⊹✷ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
⤷ Bakugo and Midoriya.

THE NIGHT THEY got home from the provisional exam, the dorms felt louder than usual. Most of Class 1A had taken over the living area on the first floor, voices overlapping, laughter echoing, plates clinking and chairs scraping as people rearranged themselves into loose, celebratory clusters. The mood was buoyant in that relieved, almost giddy way that only came after passing something genuinely stressful.

Provisional licenses. Proof that they’d made it through something that had chewed up and spat out a lot of other students that day.

Oda didn’t begrudge them that.

He lingered at the edge of the room for a moment, hands in his pockets, watching Kaminari animatedly retell some exaggerated version of the exam to a small audience, Kirishima laughing loud enough to carry across the space, Uraraka smiling so hard her cheeks had to hurt.

Oda felt… disconnected from it.

Not unhappy. Not bitter. Just separate, like he was watching everything through a pane of glass that dulled the sound and softened the colors. The exam was over. He’d passed. Ango would be satisfied, at least for now. The tight knot that had been sitting in his chest for weeks had loosened just enough for him to breathe again.

But celebration required a kind of emotional openness he didn’t have the energy for.

So he slipped away.

A quiet turn toward the stairwell while everyone else was distracted. He took the steps two at a time out of habit, the familiar path up through the dorm, past the quiet upper floors where doors were shut and lights were dim. By the time he reached the roof access, the noise from downstairs was nothing more than a distant, muffled hum.

The door creaked softly as he pushed it open.

Cool night air washed over him immediately, a welcome contrast to the warmth and crowding below. The roof was mostly empty, just concrete and fencing and the wide, open stretch of sky above UA’s campus. The city lights in the distance painted the horizon in a hazy glow, but up here it was darker, calmer, the stars faint but present if you looked hard enough.

Oda walked to his usual spot near the fence and leaned against it, shoulders slumping as some of the tension finally drained out of him. He dug into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, movements practiced and automatic. When the flame flared, it briefly illuminated his face, casting sharp shadows along his cheekbones and catching the faint red glow of the markings on his skin.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, and let the smoke settle in his lungs before exhaling into the night.

Smoking forced him to stand still and do nothing for a minute or two, to let his thoughts line up instead of crashing into each other all at once. The past few weeks had been a blur of training, fear, exhaustion, and pressure, all stacked on top of each other with no real space to breathe in between.

Now there was space.

The exam was over. He’d passed both stages. He’d proven—at least on paper—that he was capable, useful, worth the investment. That mattered more than he liked to admit. Somewhere far away, Ango would read the results and check a box, and for a little while longer, Oda’s place in this precarious arrangement would be secure.

He tipped his head back and stared up at the sky, smoke curling upward and disappearing into the darkness.

Mera’s words echoed faintly in his mind. Hope for the future. Responsibility. The world watching.

It was strange, how passing could feel so heavy.

Oda took another drag, slower this time, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t isolating himself because he was sad. He just needed this quiet moment to recalibrate, to remind himself that he was still here.

Celebration could wait.

He stayed up on the roof well past curfew, long after the lights in most of the dorm rooms had gone dark and the campus had settled into that late-night quiet. The air had cooled enough to raise goosebumps along his arms where his sleeves had ridden up. He leaned against the fence, cigarette long gone, just standing there with his thoughts and the low hum of the world beneath him.

Part of him kept expecting a familiar tired voice to drift up from the stairwell, Aizawa catching him red-handed and rubbing his eyes like this was one inconvenience too many. But another, more pragmatic part of Oda doubted it would happen. 

Even if Aizawa did find him, even if he noticed the busted lock or smelled the lingering smoke, expulsion felt… unlikely. Not for something like this. Oda had a provisional license now. He had leverage. He hated thinking in those terms, but the truth was the truth.

Time slipped by in slow, uneven chunks.

Then movement caught his eye.

Oda straightened slightly, gaze snapping downward to the path below the dorms. The lighting there was dimmer, shadows stretching long and distorted across the pavement, but the silhouettes were unmistakable. Spiky blond hair, aggressive even in outline. A mop of messy green curls walking a half-step behind.

Bakugo and Midoriya.

Oda frowned, curiosity prickling sharp and immediate. They weren’t talking. They weren’t even arguing, which in itself was strange enough to be alarming. They just walked, shoulders tense, steps heavy, heading away from the dorms and toward Ground Beta.

What the hell were they doing out this late?

Oda stayed where he was, watching them disappear farther down the path until they were little more than shapes swallowed by darkness. The campus felt too quiet around him, like it was holding its breath. He checked the time on his phone out of habit, thumb hovering uselessly over the screen.

A few minutes later, the answer came in the form of a distant boom.

Then another.

Explosions, unmistakable even from this far away, rolling through the night air and echoing off the buildings. Oda’s jaw tightened as he turned toward the sound, eyes narrowing. That wasn’t training noise. Not at this hour. Not with that intensity.

And then, below him again, another figure moved with purpose.

All Might.

Not in his towering, invincible form, but in his thin, fragile one, coat flapping as he hurried along the same path Bakugo and Midoriya had taken moments earlier. He was moving fast—too fast for someone who was supposedly retired and recovering—and the sight sent a sharp spike of unease straight through Oda’s chest.

Oh.

So they were fighting.

“What the hell,” Oda muttered under his breath, fingers curling against the chain-link fence.

His mind raced, piecing things together whether he wanted it to or not. Midoriya passing the provisional exam. Bakugo failing. The tension that had been simmering between them for years, now boiling over at the worst possible time. If they were really going all out, really losing themselves in it, then All Might would be walking straight into the middle of it.

That thought didn’t sit right. It didn’t sit at all.

Oda didn’t consciously decide to move. His quirk flared instinctively, that familiar pressure blooming around him as he swung one leg over the fence and vaulted down from the roof. He landed softly on the ground below, knees bending to absorb the impact, boots barely making a sound against the concrete.

“All Might!” he called out, already breaking into a jog.

All Might slowed and turned, eyes widening in surprise when he saw Oda approaching from the direction of the dorms.

“Young Edogawa,” he said, forcing a casual tone that didn’t quite stick, his posture stiff with urgency. “What are you doing still doing awake?”

Oda didn’t bother answering that. He fell into step beside him, expression sharp, eyes fixed on the direction of Ground Beta. “You’re not going to stop them alone, are you?” he asked bluntly. “‘Cause based on those explosions, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why not bring Aizawa?”

All Might hesitated, his stride faltering just a fraction. “Please try not to worry,” he began, voice careful. “I’ve got business with these two that I need to settle—”

“What, about Midoriya’s borrowed quirk?” Oda cut in, calm but unyielding.

That did it.

All Might stopped short, turning fully toward him now, surprise written plainly across his face. Oda kept going, hands slipping into the pockets of his black zip-up as if this were just another late-night conversation.

“No reason to deny it,” Oda continued. “I heard Bakugo mention it during the exam. You passed your power onto Midoriya, right? That’s why you’re basically quirkless now.”

For a moment, All Might looked like he might argue. Then his shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him before it ever really surfaced. He searched for words and didn’t seem to find any that worked.

“It’s fine,” Oda added quietly. “It’s not like I’m gonna blab. You’ve been keeping all my secrets anyway.” He shrugged, eyes flicking briefly toward the ground. “I, of all people, know genetics isn’t the only way to get a quirk.”

All Might’s gaze dropped, something heavy and regretful passing over his features. “Yes,” he admitted at last. “I suppose that’s all true. I considered asking you to help Young Midoriya with his training, but… at the time, it didn’t seem like you needed any more added to your plate.”

Oda huffed, not quite a laugh. “I probably would’ve said no anyway. I’m not really supposed to talk to you.”

That earned him a frown, but before All Might could respond, another explosion thundered through the night, closer this time, sharp enough to rattle windows.

All Might exhaled slowly. “I know I shouldn’t ask this,” he said, resignation creeping into his voice, “but I might use your help with these two. Granted, you’ll get in trouble with Aizawa.”

Oda shrugged again, already turning and breaking into a run toward Ground Beta. “I’m probably already in trouble as is,” he said over his shoulder. “Kinda broke onto the roof.”

All Might followed without another word, the two of them moving quickly through the dark, drawn by the distant flashes of light and the unmistakable sound of a fight that had gone too far.

By the time they reached Ground Beta, the fight hadn’t spiraled into the kind of catastrophic destruction Oda had been bracing himself for, but it was still bad enough that his chest tightened at the sight of it. Craters marred the ground, scorched earth smoking faintly under the floodlights. 

He took an instinctive step forward, quirk stirring under his skin, ready to intervene—

—and All Might’s hand came down firmly on his shoulder.

Oda stiffened but stopped, jaw clenching as he followed All Might’s gaze back to the center of the field.

Bakugo’s voice rang out, raw and jagged, nothing like the usual explosive bravado Oda was used to hearing. There was anger there, sure, but it was tangled up with something else, something uglier and heavier, something that sounded like it had been rotting inside him for weeks.

“Attack me! Why won’t you fight back?” Bakugo shouted, his voice cracking. “Why did I end up having to chase after someone who was always so far behind me? Why did a damn small fry like you get strong and become the number-one hero’s sidekick? His favorite? You got so much better, and I destroyed All Might! I admired him so much. But it’s because of me that he ended up losing his power!”

Oda felt it then, that sharp, unpleasant jolt of recognition. Guilt. That little emotion that Oda didn’t waste much time on anymore.

All Might flinched beside him, shoulders drawing inward just slightly, like each word was a physical blow.

Bakugo wasn’t finished.

“If I had been stronger… I hadn’t been kidnapped by villains… Then it never would have happened. All Might knows it was my fault but hasn’t said anything. Everyone has to know, though! I can’t get it out of my head. It’s like it’s constantly playing on loop. So what the hell am I supposed to do?!”

Oda swallowed hard, fingers curling into fists at his sides. He’d heard Bakugo yell before. He’d heard him rage, threaten, insult, explode in every sense of the word. But this—this was different. This was stripped bare, furious and terrified all at once, and it made Oda deeply, viscerally uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.

Green lightning flared across the field as Midoriya’s quirk surged to life again, the air around him crackling. Bakugo charged without hesitation, and Midoriya met him head-on, a sharp, decisive kick connecting with Bakugo’s face and sending him skidding back across the ground.

“If I’m gonna do this, I’m going all out. I refuse to be your punching back Kacchan.”

Oda sucked in a breath. “You want me to—”

“Just hold on a second,” All Might said quietly, lifting a hand without taking his eyes off the fight. “If they don’t work this out now, it’ll never be sorted.”

Oda looked at him sharply. “They’re gonna beat each other to a pulp.”

“No,” All Might said, resolute despite the strain in his voice. “They’ll be okay.”

Oda didn’t agree. Every instinct he had screamed that this was a terrible idea, that letting two emotionally compromised teenagers with absurdly destructive quirks go at each other was reckless at best. But he stayed where he was, teeth grinding together as he forced himself to listen to his teacher.

The fight dragged on, three long, brutal minutes that felt like much more. Bakugo attacked relentlessly, explosions lighting up the night in violent flashes, while Midoriya countered with controlled bursts of green energy, his movements sharper, more deliberate than Oda remembered from earlier in the year. It wasn’t a sloppy brawl; it was focused, intense, two people colliding with years of unresolved tension behind every blow.

Oda watched, heart hammering, as they traded hits and near-misses, neither willing to back down. He could see it now, clear as day—Midoriya wasn’t just defending himself. He was standing his ground. And Bakugo… Bakugo wasn’t just fighting to win. He was fighting to purge something, to exhaust it, to hurt enough that the noise in his head might finally shut up.

Midoriya had probably only agreed to this because Bakugo needed it. Because yelling hadn’t been enough. Because words never had been. Fighting was the only language Bakugo knew, and Oda suspected All Might knew that better than anyone.

It didn’t make it easier to watch.

But as both of the idiots lined themselves up for one final, reckless, all-out blow, All Might’s voice cut sharply through the night and sent a jolt straight through Oda’s spine.

“Stop them.”

Oda didn’t hesitate.

Right before their attacks could collide—right before Bakugo’s explosion and Midoriya’s kick could meet in what would have been a genuinely dangerous impact—Oda was suddenly there, appearing between them in a blur of warped air and distorted gravity. 

His quirk surged outward, the invisible pressure snapping into place around his body. The sudden shift in air current knocked Bakugo’s hands violently back, splitting the explosion away from its intended path and sending it spiraling uselessly to the side, while Midoriya’s kick came down over Oda’s head and struck nothing but the dense gravity barrier surrounding him, the impact dispersing harmlessly instead of shattering bone.

“You two cannot be serious,” Oda let out flatly as he widened the gravity field and forcefully shoved both of them back. “I mean honestly.”

Bakugo and Midoriya were thrown in opposite directions, skidding across the ground before finally coming to a stop.

“Edogawa,” Midoriya gawked from where he’d landed, wide-eyed and breathless, staring at him like he’d just appeared out of thin air.

“You little bastard—” Bakugo started, already wrenching himself back up to his feet, fury flashing hot and immediate despite the way his body protested the movement.

They both looked wrecked. Bruises darkened Midoriya’s arms and face, his clothes scuffed and torn from repeated impacts, while Bakugo’s chest rose and fell in harsh, uneven breaths. Angry red scrapes marked his arms where he’d blocked one of Midoriya’s kicks and gotten raked by the rubber soles of his shoes, skin raw and irritated beneath the damage.

“Stop this right now. Both of you.”

All Might’s voice cut in before Bakugo could finish whatever threat he was about to spit out, stepping forward into view. “Sorry. But I’ve heard what you said.”

The shift in Bakugo was immediate. His anger didn’t vanish, but it shrank, folded inward like a flame suddenly starved of oxygen.

“All Might,” Bakugo said, voice tight, almost strangled.

Midoriya pushed himself up slightly from the ground, blinking in surprise. “When’d you get here?”

“I didn’t notice before. I should have,” All Might added quietly, the weight of that admission heavy in his tone.

“It’s too late now,” Bakugo let out, chest heaving as he stared at the ground and then back up at All Might. “Why did you pick Deku? It started when the sludge villain came, didn’t it? So why him?”

“He was powerless,” All Might answered without hesitation. “But still more heroic than anyone else. I knew you were strong. That much was obvious. You were someone who could already fight. So, I decided that he should have a chance to stand in the ring.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched hard enough that Oda could see the muscles jump. “But now you know I’m weak too. I always wanted to be like you which meant being as strong as possible. But look what I did to you. Because I’m not good enough.”

All Might stepped forward and stopped directly in front of him, “This is not your fault, Young Bakugo. I was always going to lose my power. You couldn’t do anything to change that. You are strong. But I focused too much on your physical strength and overlooked what was important.” He reached out and pulled Bakugo’s head against his chest, holding him there. “This isn’t your burden. I apologize. Sometimes I forget that you’re still children.”

Bakugo stood frozen like that for only a second before frustration boiled back up, sharp and defensive. He smacked All Might’s hand away and stepped back, jaw tight, eyes burning as he turned away rather than look at any of them.

“After being a hero for so many years, you learn a few things,” All Might continued, his voice softer now, “Striving to be the best like you, Young Bakugo. And caring deeply about people—about rescuing those in trouble like you, Young Midoriya. Both of those feelings are necessary in a hero. Otherwise they’ll never truly be able to represent justice. That’s why you admire his strength so much, young Midoriya. And I know that’s why you’ve always feared his heart and spirit, Young Bakugo.”

Both boys looked down, suddenly unable or unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes. 

Midoriya’s shoulders hunched in slightly, his hands curling at his sides, while Bakugo stared hard at the ground like he might burn a hole straight through it.

“Now that you’ve laid your feelings out on the table maybe you can understand each other,” All Might offered, taking a step back to give them space rather than looming over them. “If you have mutual respect and focus on making one another stronger, I’ve no doubt you’ll become ultimate heroes, winning and saving people at the same time.”

They glanced at each other—just briefly. 

Then Bakugo tore his eyes away first, jaw tight, teeth grinding as if the words physically pained him.

“Damnit. That’s not what I wanted to hear.” He dropped down onto the ground, landing hard on his butt without bothering to brace himself, planting his hands on his knees and ducking his head. “You. You had the strongest guy in the world lay the groundwork for you. Don’t you dare lose again.” He aimed the words at Midoriya without looking up.

Oda knew those words weren’t meant for him, but the image of his father still flashed uninvited through his mind. Strongest guy in the world, huh? To Oda, that had never been All Might. Not even close. Strength meant something very different when you’d grown up the way he had. But it wasn’t like anyone else here would know that, or ever need to.

“I’ll work harder so that I can beat you,” Midoriya replied, voice steady despite the exhaustion etched into his face.

Bakugo let out a long breath, and finally looked at them again. “Okay. So talk. Who knows about you two? Aside from now short-stack, apparently.”

“Recovery Girl and Principal Nezu do,” All Might answered. “Like you, Young Edogawa figured it out on his own, though he already knew about quirk transference.”

“And you don’t want this to get out ’cause that would be bad,” Bakugo continued, tone slipping back into something clipped. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell anyone what’s going on. Unlike Deku, I can keep my mouth shut. This will stay between us.”

“Thanks, Kacchan,” Midoriya said weakly, the relief in his voice unmistakable even if it was understated.

“I don’t deserve this,” All Might suddenly said, shoulders sagging as the enormity of it all seemed to finally settle on him. “I should be down on my hands and knees begging for you to keep this secret for me. Yet here you are being considerate and helping me out. Thank you.”

Bakugo pushed himself back up to his feet, “I’m not doing this for you. It would just be a real pain if this got out and messed stuff up.”

“Now that it’s come to this,” All Might began, drawing in a breath, “I can explain what’s happened between me and Young Midoriya. That’s only fair.”

And so, on their walk back through the darkened training grounds, All Might told the entire backstory.

author’s note-

before anyone’s up in the comments saying “ugh, it’s unrealistic for All Might to bring Oda to stop the fight” that isn’t really why All Might brought him, it will make more sense in the next chapter. 

we like exploring Oda’s strained relationships with Heroes in general, the All Might is at the heart of it. these chapters are important for his relationship with those heroes, Bakugo and Midoriya- who will become more important in the future. 

Oda and Midoriya are two people who see each other as the superior versions of themselves, at least power wise. they’re dynamic is a favorite of ours so watch out for it in the future.

anyways, that’s all,
thanks for reading!