dive and disappear without a trace (ATLA x BNHA)

Chapter Five

Shouto was back in that white emptiness again. It happened almost every time he went to sleep, but recently the voice hadn't been talking to him.

"Hello?" He called, hoping the voice would answer.

Nothing.

The silence was deafening, the only sound Shouto's soft breathing. He glanced around again to see if anything had changed from how it usually was, but it was still just a fuzzy white.

Shouto.

Shouto startled, not expecting an answer after so many nights of quiet. This was his chance to get more information.

"How do I get back home?" He asked, a bit desperately.

All in good time. This world needs your help most.

Shouto wanted to curse. He wanted to yell and scream that this wasn't fair. Why him? Why was he chosen to be ripped from his friends, his family, his world to go fight some war in a dimension that wasn't even his own?

That ever familiar burn of anger roiled to life under his skin, simmering in his veins and scorching his lungs. Flames licked at his face and he tried to reign them in, but they lashed out at the air in a furious dance.

Cracks began to spread across what Shouto previously thought was vast nothingness. His flames continued to chip away at the barrier, shards of it falling away to reveal more blinding white. But then—as more fell away—he could see a glimpse of green.

"Izuku?" He choked out, but then the dream shattered.

He woke up gasping for breath, reaching for someone who wasn't there.

It was night, the stars shining brightly in the inky blackness. He could hear Sokka snoring to his left, Aang's quiet breathing, Katara's small puffs of air as she slept. It was comforting, to a degree.

Not as comforting as if it were Izuku next to him.

As his breathing evened out, Shouto went over his dream in his mind. What did that last part mean? He could have sworn he saw Izuku. Was...was Izuku here, too? Was he having the same dreams? How could Shouto find him?

It seemed impossible to think. His mind was muddled with confusion and exhaustion, and he tossed restlessly in his small sleeping bag. This wasn't helping, and he already knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

Might as well do something productive, then.

Shouto shimmied out of the sleeping bag, stumbling to his feet. Using the slivers of moonlight to navigate, he made his way into the woods, searching for an acceptable area to train. It needed to have apt room to move, but be far enough from the group that they wouldn't wake.

He eventually came across a good-sized clearing. Perfect.

Would it be alright to use his fire? He did need to warm it up a bit, he hadn't been able to use it since he got here. He could feel it twisting impatiently inside him, yearning to be set free, and he decided it was safe. The moon was still high in the sky; no one would be waking up anytime soon. Shouto would be careful not to burn anything.

Thus, he got to work, pouring all his frustration and anger into his movements. This world needs your help most. Flames burst from his fingertips, stretching as far as he could make them go. You have no way home. An ice wall this time, reminiscent of the one used against Sero during the sports festival. You might be stuck here for the rest of your life.

Shouto yelled, slamming his foot down. Ice crackled to life around him, creating a ring of frosty spikes to surround him.

His mind kept spinning in circles, centering around one thought: I just want to go home.