The hum of the vacuum cleaner was the only sound in the common room.

Izuku pushed his along the edge of the couch with meticulous care, eyes fixed on the carpet as if it held the secrets to heroism itself. Bakugo, on the other side of the room, moved with sharp, aggressive motions—his vacuum roaring louder than necessary, like it was being punished for his suspension.

Neither spoke.

The silence between them was thick, uncomfortable, and bristling with everything they weren’t saying.

After the fight—after fists flew and tempers snapped—All Might had explained, Aizawa had scolded, and the verdict had been delivered: suspension. No training. No classes. Just chores.

And now here they were.

Two of UA’s most promising students reduced to domestic duty, scrubbing away tension with vacuum cleaners and resentment.

Izuku glanced up for a moment, catching Bakugo’s scowl as he yanked the cord from under a chair. He quickly looked away.

He wanted to say something.

Apologize, maybe.

Or explain.

But Bakugo’s posture was rigid, his jaw tight, and Izuku knew better than to poke the bear when it was still growling.

Bakugo, for his part, didn’t even glance at Izuku.

He didn’t need to.

He could feel the nerd’s presence like static in the air—annoying, familiar, and impossible to ignore.

And yet… neither of them moved to break the silence.

Because beneath the anger, the pride, and the bruises, there was something else.

Understanding.

They’d fought.

They’d hurt each other.

But they’d also learned something.

And maybe, just maybe, when the vacuums were turned off and the room was clean, one of them would finally speak.

Maybe.