The summer heat clung to the city like a second skin, thick and oppressive, but the real storm was brewing inside the Bakugo household.

“You’re not listening to me, old man!” Suki shouted, fists clenched tight as sparks flared at his palms. The small pops echoed through the living room like warning shots.

Katsuki stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set. “I’m listening just fine. You’re just talkin’ crap.”

Suki’s eyes narrowed, anger blazing in them like his father’s. “It’s not crap! You promised we’d go training after patrol today!”

“I just got back from a twelve-hour shift, damn it!” Katsuki snapped. “I’m covered in ash, blood, and the bones of five villains. Gimme a break!”

Suki’s feet stomped against the floor as he exploded forward, stopping only inches away from Katsuki. “You always say you’re gonna train me, and then you don’t! You’re full of it!”

Katsuki’s palms twitched with restraint. “Watch your mouth.”

Suki didn’t flinch. “Why? You say worse every day! You want me to be strong like you, right? Then stop treating me like some kid who can’t handle it!”

“You are a damn kid!” Katsuki barked. “You think blowing stuff up means you’re ready for all this? You think it’s all flashy moves and cool poses?”

“I didn’t get Mom’s quirk, I got yours,” Suki hissed. “And you think I don’t know what that means?! I am you. Just smaller.”

Katsuki’s hands flexed at his sides, the heat rolling off him like a wave. “You’re not me. You’re better than I was.”

“No, I’m exactly like you,” Suki growled, pacing now. “Hot-headed, loud, explosive. You think I don’t hear what people say about me at school? They say I’m a little Bakugo. They don’t even say my name.”

Katsuki scowled. “What, you wanna cry about that? Or prove them right?”

Suki turned sharply. “I am proving them wrong! I’m stronger than all of them! I’ve been training every day! But you—you keep acting like I’m not ready. Why?!”

“Because I’m scared, alright?!” Katsuki roared suddenly, the words slamming into the room like a shockwave. “You think it’s fun watching your own brat run headfirst into a world that eats people alive?!”

Suki froze. The fury didn’t vanish from his face, but something cracked beneath it.

Katsuki took a step closer, voice low but firm. “Every time you spark up, every time you throw that damn punch, all I can see is you ending up like me. Or worse. And I’m not ready for that.”

“I’m not weak,” Suki said, voice quieter now but still burning. “You trained to be the best. You never let anyone hold you back. Why are you holding me back?”

“Because I didn’t have someone looking out for me like you do,” Katsuki said through gritted teeth. “I had to be tough because no one else gave a damn. You got a mom who actually worries, and a dad who’s seen what this life really does to people.”

Suki looked up at him. “Don’t call her ‘woman’ in front of me again.”

Katsuki blinked. “What?”

“I don’t like it. She’s my mom, not just some ‘woman’.”

Katsuki tilted his head, brow furrowed. “You serious?”

Suki’s eyes sparked again, not from anger this time, but conviction. “Dead serious.”

Katsuki’s lip twitched, the closest he’d ever come to a smirk during an argument. “Tch. Fine. I’ll stop... when you stop calling me ‘old man.’”

“No deal.”

“Tch—brat.”

Suki grinned slightly, despite himself.

Katsuki rubbed a hand over his face, sighing hard. “Look, I get it. You wanna be strong. And yeah, you’re a hell of a lot like me. But you gotta think, Suki. Power without control is just a damn liability.”

“I have control,” Suki argued. “I’ve been working on it—precision bursts, one-handed ignitions. I even figured out how to do a palm-flash without recoil.”

That made Katsuki pause.

“You did that on your own?”

Suki nodded, chin high.

Katsuki looked down at him, proud and pissed all at once. “...Show me.”

Suki blinked. “What, now?”

“Yeah, now. Let’s see if you’re all talk.”

Suki grinned and raised his palm, focusing. A small, concentrated blast sparked to life, just above his skin—a flash of orange and white, tight and clean.