Chapter Text
All Might wasn’t here.
All Might wasn’t here.
If he was seething over this fact, then Tomura was surely incensed since the hero of the hour didn’t fucking show up. After all of the work of preparing this damned attack on UA itself, the number one hero couldn’t be bothered with teaching his own students.
The sniper had known that the Number One Hero was full of shit, but hot damn. Not only was he a subpar human being, he was a terrible teacher, poor chumps had really pulled the short end of the stick when they applied to UA.
It was a damn shame, but at the very least, this show of power would be proof that hero society wasn’t what it was attempting to be.
No matter; Shimura had other problems to keep an eye on.
Shifting in his sniper’s nest, he peered through the scope to check on the students below him in the ship-wreck zone. Their ship was sinking, but it appeared that one of the students had a quirk that allowed her to swim through the water with ease (which he eagerly took note of) but the other kid appeared to be crying like a baby. The cannon fodder down there should be able to handle them. Though, considering that Eraserhead was capable of taking down said cannon fodder with apparent ease, maybe the villains down there were really that useless.
No matter.
They were a distraction to keep those students down. Even if it meant killing the hero hopefuls.
Nonetheless, when one of the students escaped, their time here suddenly became limited. Tomura still appeared set on killing a few kids to send a message to UA and All Might. Their time of greatness was coming-
BOOM
Despite the dark hoodie that he took solace in, keeping him safe and warm at all times, the hair on the back of his neck rose in response to the noise. He knew that sound. He knew the numerous sounds of explosions very intimately, after being tortured by a wielder of them for the better half of his life, he’d recognize the wielder of such destruction with ease.
After the brief moment of terror faded, pure vindictiveness was left in its place. Knowing the order Shigaraki had given him, how he should only strike when he says so, surely he’d understand the need to destroy those who represented everything you despise.
Katsuki represented victory, winning, and power. Here’s the key word; represented.
Shifting his RSASS, Izuku looked through the scope, observing Kacchan. Hopefully that suicide baiting bastard didn’t need his arms for his hero work, because it would be a real shame if something were to happen to them.
With his finger resting on the trigger, he pulled it without a hint of hesitation. The resounding blast as the bullet enter the gauntlets was rather satisfying, Bakugou screeching as the those support items on him exploded- he’s the dumbass who turned himself into a walking time bomb. Whatever was left of the bastard, if he was still alive, was thrown like a ragdoll due to the sheer force behind the blast.
Hell! Even that red-headed kid he was with went flying!