Aniki // bnha x Bakugou!twin reader// ‼️Ended ‼️

40- oscillate and deliberate

Like nearly all competitions between these two, Katsuki was first to strike. And when he gets the first punch to land, he makes sure to leave a crater.

Smoke piled into the arena like the fiery gates of Tarturus had opened, and two titans of myth and embers were here, not to appease that coddling crowd, not even settle a dispute, but to leave no inch of skin on one another unbruised.

Well, at least that's what the younger believed was entailed- that they'd scrap 'til no breath was left in their lungs. Until their broken ribcages creaked with every stuttering inhale, until one held up a shaky hand and whispered through broken teeth: "enough." Until the other begged.

The picture to stain the history books Present mic so adamantly claimed they'd belong to would show one stood on the other's fallen form; righteous, and magnificent, having given their all.

Because that's what you do in a fight, right? You give it your all.

So, Katsuki seemed to relish less and less in his brutal attacks on his brother, why is lanky bastard only glowing a measly orange shade? It looked like he was scrapping with a lamp.

Hopping back to avoid any artillery, which aggravatingly never came, his wide eyes scanned the boy who eased himself rigidly from the grave he'd just been lowered into by his own brother's hands.

Why was he holding back all of a sudden? That small range of close-proximity blows surely couldn't damage his vitality? Against Icy-Hot he was... godlike; rising from the hellish hemisphere like divine carnage, leveller of cities, a blindingly bright star.

Yet M/n believed himself to be no star, more a blackhole, or broken satellite with a signal that failed to reach home.

He killed stars if he reached too far, that's what his nursery teacher told him absently as a crayon fell from his chubby, 4-year-old hand. He'd only asked if he could be a hero too.
Be applauded, greeted with bouquets of his favourite flowers.
See mommy smile. But more importantly, smile at him. For him.

Whilst watching his brother watch him, M/n folded the amusement that followed observing his brother's twitching nose. It was a small give away of Katuski's unsureness- a twitching snout like a hare in long grass, seeking the rustling ambush of a predator. 

His gameplay, this time around, as he was placed like pawn on checkered board, was that he was willing to lie down. Sure, he would raise brutish fists to satisfy the menagerie of onlooking cowards. It was his plan ever since realising the universe would pit him against the one he hesitated to confront.

But that plan changed all too quickly.

Suddenly, watching Katsuki wipe his nose like a snotty toddler, that wretched feeling rose from the pit of his stomach, and wound it's way like poison ivy. 

Something about watching that... babbling infant he practically had to raise, stand there and prepare to end him. Him? That whiny brat who slammed doors in his face and yelled at him for no good reason, with the consequence of his parents turning their backs to him to coddle who was, so, so obviously their favourite.

And Hawks. Calling him a traitor. A damn traitor. Sure, it seems to be going that way. But if that winged prick had just never uttered that declarative life-sentence, maybe they would still be good, honest friends. Flying around parks and eating ice-cream atop the tallest skyscrapers and egging Endeavour's tower. But that was gone now, since the phone call.

And Kurutta. That bag of bones had dragged him into all this, with her plans to cleanse villain-kind, yet never being much of a hero herself. Endangering children, ripping them from their home's to be deployed like marching stick-figures. He was twelve. For God's sake he had been twelve and already had military like endurance drilled into his sobbing heart.

And All Might, with that throbbing smile his brother loved and he just wanted to punch. The 'Anonymous' hero that got him enrolled to U.A in the first place. M/n scoffed, probably not the old geezer's fault. The wicked hands at the YHA had most likely already planned it all out, his sinful future. 

Glancing back at Katsuki, who it seemed had gotten fed up of waiting around during his opponent's revelation, sprung forward to deliver that famous right-sided swing, palms crackling and trailing with sugar-stench smoke.

Well. 

M/n cracked his neck to the side and planted his feet in the ground, like when he'd stopped that nomu obliterating his twin. Ungrateful brat.

Maybe he was fed up too. And he was about to beat this bitch up.

くコ:彡

The elder Bakugou cranked up the heat, boiling the atmosphere as his blade-like forearms soaked in the blunt attacks thrust upon him.

Each time their skin begrudgingly met, Katsuki seemed to faulter and his explosions shoot off too early. He'd jump back to steady himself, growling like a ferocious dog, and would go back in to splinter M/n's defence.

Every time Katsuki blew a giant explosion, M/n would blow a harsher one back, sending the two off course, having to readjust themselves while the younger sweated profusely and M/n burned brighter, inching toward that bleach-white the crowd so desperately wanted to capture again.

くコ:彡

Pulling at the collar of her blue uniform, Ochako tried to cool herself down from the blistering heat. Her eyes shifted to the side, watching sweat trickle down Deku's forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing, clover-green eyes never straying from the battle.

"It's shocking when it shouldn't be," she chuckled, trying to create humour in the muggy atmosphere, "with the look on every one in our class' face, it seems we'd all forgotten M/n can create explosions too. I'll admit even I forgot, silly me." 

"Yeah, I'll admit I thought that was a shorter-one only quirk." Tsuyu croaked from behind, tongue lolled out and eyes droopy from the immense temperature.

Unnerved by Deku's lack of stringent mumbling, or lack of any verbal acknowledgement so far, Ochako gently nudged Deku in the side. He stumbled a bit with his chin atop clasped hands, but swiftly turned to see Uraraka looking at him intently, trying to hide the pity she felt for him. This fight must be hard for him to watch; his two childhood friends. 

"You probably wish it was you down there instead, huh?" she smiled, lips failing to give a convincing smile. This battle made her sad too, but she wouldn't let it show. 

"Against Kachaan?" He iterated.

Ah, that confirmed her lingering suspicion. He wanted to replace M/n and protect him. Unfortunately it was too late for that. Years too late.

"His attacks are getting sloppier," Deku noted, returning his sole gaze toward the catastrophe below, "notice each time he projectiles back he looks annoyed?"

"Uh, yeah? Because M/n isn't going down as quick as he wants him to?" the brunette shrugged.

"Not really. His face looks annoyed at not knowing how to control each blow. Like it's too big for him to grasp in that split second he gets to attack, it's not going how he wants to."

"Huh. You're right." she muttered as they watched the small, feisty blonde take another unpredictable retreat from his own blast, "why is that? Why can't he control it?"

"Well," Deku straightened up, eyes still trained on the aching gladiator fight before him, like some cruel nightmare, "it may have something to do with the Twin Theory. At least, that's all I could hope for. An unpredictable Bakugou is even more dangerous than a calculated one."

"Midoriya?" Mina leant forward in her seat slightly, the edges she'd meticulously gelled to her forehead had gone slick like leaves in a terrarium, leaving her poofy hair damp and large eyes wet. Yeah, her eyes were wet from the heat right? "What's the- theory you just said. A Twin Theory?" the pink-tinted girl inquired, sweaty fingernails embedded in her blue shorts.

"It's... it's a way of explaining how those two," he swallowed, "co-exist. Why they are how they are. I'll explain as best I can." he stated determinedly as another plume of smoke punched and rattled the air.