The forest began to quiet as they returned to the village. Damp leaves clung to their shoes, the scent of wet earth lingered in the air, and the late afternoon sun filtered through the tree canopy in golden shafts. Though the scene appeared peaceful, the space between them was thick with tension leftover from the battle.
Hana glared at Bakugo, her brows raised, face calm but eyes flickering with restrained anger. "Earlier… you almost got yourself burned. Are you stupid?"
Bakugo turned, his crimson eyes blazing, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "Shut up! I know what I'm doing!" His voice boomed, startling a flock of birds into flight. Yet beneath the anger, a spark of satisfaction shone—his attack had succeeded.
Ren, having just stabilized the terrain with a gust of wind, chuckled softly. "He is stupid," he said lightly, his eyes bright with admiration. "But a stupid one who's strong."
Bakugo turned toward Ren, frowning. "What do you mean by that…? You call me stupid, huh?!" His voice echoed between the trees like a small explosion before his aura simmered down.
Hana merely observed the two, arms folded, lips pressed into a thin line. But she couldn't hide a trace of respect. "Stupid… but learns quickly," she murmured under her breath. "And stubborn. Just like the person I'll have to face one day."
Beside them, Hiroshi stood silently. His pale teal eyes cut through the fading sunlight, assessing every expression, every aura, every remnant of energy from the battle. Suddenly, the forest seemed still.
> "You… have the potential to exceed ordinary shinobi," Hiroshi's voice was soft, yet it pierced the air like wind slipping between the trees.
"But uncontrolled potential only ends as I've seen before—with teams that fall apart."
The three genin fell silent. No spontaneous words, no laughter—only the weight of a truth newly realized.
Bakugo felt something unfamiliar—not fear, not ordinary annoyance—but a kind of bond, something he hated yet could not avoid.
Hana lowered her gaze, her eyes glinting faintly. "A team… isn't about individual strength. It's… about predicting others," she thought. The notion made her pulse quicken. Uncomfortable, yet crucial.
Ren drew a deep breath, letting the evening energy flow around him. He gave a slight smile. "If we can unite the wild, the analytical, and the adaptive… maybe we really can be a different kind of team."
Hiroshi closed his eyes for a moment, exhaled, then looked at all three again. "Starting tomorrow, your training will be harder. I will not lose a team again."
Bakugo ground his teeth. He stared at a tree across the path, breathing heavily, his aura still simmering. A bond… something he despised: the inability to act alone, the impossibility of exploding freely at will.
Yet, in the back of his mind, something else stirred. A desire to prove that—even while bound—he could still shine, still be the center of explosions in this team. A resolve he had never felt before.
Hana watched Bakugo, reading the tension in his eyes. "He's… as stubborn as I imagined. But maybe… he can be the key." Her inner voice was low, full of curiosity.
Ren, with his faint smile and bright eyes, observed both teammates. "Wild, smart, and adaptive… this combination could become an unexpected strength," he murmured. He knew conflict would arise, but he also knew it would fuel their growth.
They continued their walk home. The sun now set, the western horizon ablaze, their shadows dancing on the forest floor.
A team was born—not perfect, stubborn, and unruly. Yet a seed of power had begun to grow: unspoken trust, untested resolve, and potential that could change everything.
Bakugo lifted his head, staring at the darkening sky. "If the world wants to see who's the strongest… I'll make sure they know."
Hana looked at him from the side, Ren smiled from behind, and Hiroshi walked ahead, calm and vigilant as ever.
Their new journey had begun. And though Bakugo hated to admit the bond, he knew something inside him had changed.