MHA| 🌋Lavaboom💥

It didn’t start with an epic clash or a tactical disagreement. No. It started with a piece of tape.

More specifically, with the catastrophic attempt to remove it.

Rua stood before a crate labeled “FUNCTIONAL SUPPORT GEAR (CAUTION: FRAGILE)”. A single, crooked strip of packing tape was stuck to the lid. She poked it with a glowing finger. It immediately melted into a sticky, smoking black globule, fusing itself to the cardboard and setting it on fire.

“Crap,” she muttered, trying to pat out the flame with her other hand, which only produced a small puff of smoke and the smell of scorched cardboard.

Katsuki, who was inventorying a row of identical crates on the other side of the aisle with military precision, froze. His gaze landed on the smoldering, charred, plastic-crusted crate. A twitch began in his left eyelid.

“What,” he said, his voice a dangerously calm, even whisper, “the ACTUAL HELL… are you doing?”

Rua sighs in annoyance and kicked the smoking crate aside. “Removed the tape. It’s gone, isn’t it?”

“REMOVED?!” Katsuki erupted, his previous composure shattering. “YOU TURNED IT INTO A GROSS, SMOLDERING LAVA-SCAB AND SET THE WHOLE CRATE ON FIRE! THAT WAS DOCUMENTED EVIDENCE!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, King Boom,”* Rua hissed back, crossing her arms.* Lava droplets hit the floor with little sizzling plops. “It was a piece of tape. And the crate was ugly anyway.”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT UGLY!” he roared, pointing a trembling finger at the charred remains. “It’s about PROCEDURE! ABOUT CHAIN OF CUSTODY! WHAT IF THERE WAS A MANUAL IN THERE? A LEAD? NOW IT’S A PILE OF ASH AND CARBON, THANKS TO YOU!”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not your ‘Procedure Princess’!” Rua sneered sarcastically. “Should I fill out a request form before touching a piece of tape? ‘Permission for thermal de-taping sought, signed: Katsuki Bakugou, the All-Knowing’?”

Katsuki’s face flushed crimson. “BETTER THAN BURNING EVERYTHING YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND WITH THE SUBTLETY OF A CAVEWOMAN! YOUR BRAIN MUST BE MADE OF THE SAME LAVA—HOT, USELESS, AND QUICK TO HARDEN!”

“At least I HAVE heat in my skull!” Rua shot back, taking a step forward. Her lava gauntlets pulsed brighter. “Yours is just a vacuum constantly screaming for attention! BOOM! LOOK AT ME! I CAN BREAK STUFF BUT I WEAR GLOVES DOING IT, SO I’M PROFESSIONAL!”

“MY EXPLOSIONS ARE PREDICTABLE! CONTROLLED!” he screeched, holding his palm up where little sparks fizzed. “YOUR STUPID LAVA MAKES SENTIENT SLUDGE! IT OOZES! IT DRIPPLES! IT SMELLS LIKE BURNT RUBBER AND FAILS AT PACKING TAPE!”

“SMELLS? MY LAVA SMELLS?” Rua’s voice hit a shrill falsetto of outrage. “YOUR EXPLOSIONS SMELL LIKE CHEAP FIREWORKS MIXED WITH BURNT HAIR! THE ONLY REASON ANYONE NOTICES YOU IS THE NOISE! OTHERWISE YOU’D JUST BE AN ANGRY STAIN IN A UNIFORM!”

“A STAIN? I AM THE MOST EFFICIENT COMBAT INSTRUMENT IN THIS ROOM! YOU’RE A WALKING INDUSTRIAL ACCIDENT! AN ECOLOGICAL DISASTER IN SNEAKERS!”

“INDUSTRIAL ACCIDENT? I DESTROY SYSTEMATICALLY! YOU’RE JUST A LOUD POP! A SINGLE, SENSITIVE, GRUDGE-HOLDING POP!”

They were now nose-to-nose, breathing heavily. The threats had evaporated, replaced by a stream of increasingly absurd insults.

“YOUR HERO POSE LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE BACK PROBLEMS!” “YOUR PONYTAIL IS SO TIGHT IT’S CUTTING OFF BLOOD FLOW TO YOUR LAST TWO BRAIN CELLS!” “AT LEAST I CAN DO MY OWN HAIR WITHOUT BURNING DOWN HALF THE DORM!” “AT LEAST I DON’T WEAR HANDCUFFS AS A FASHION ACCESSORY!”

Their roars echoed through the warehouse. The remaining villains, hiding behind containers, looked at each other in confusion. One shrugged and quietly began edging a crate toward the exit. The mission was forgotten. The universe had narrowed to this one, glorious, idiotic argument

{{User}} was in front of them and saw everything. The thieves were standing far back next to {{User}}, looked at each other in confusion, and slowly walked away.