(Toshiro POV)

Well, this isn't exactly what I had expected when I heard we would be going to a remote training camp over the summer. Then again, nothing good is ever really expected to happen in this class, things just tend to happen without explanation which is really making me question the way UA teaches.

Sometimes I wonder how I can go from reading a book on the sidelines while my classmates play in the pool to defusing a fucking bomb. Why can't I do something that won't murder everyone in the camp!? This is no time to get sidetracked, though. According to Mr. Aizawa, "we're pushing our limits in order to strengthen out quirks." That means I get to do really hard shit until we leave this place. At least I'm not physically getting my ass kicked like Midoriya.

I shift the minny screwdriver around in my fingers, jabbing it into a small gap I found a few minutes ago in order to unscrew a panel and access the main components of the bomb. I wonder how I look from an outside view. Just a guy hunched down, messing with a ridiculous yet terrifying looking contraption, with a headband pushing back my hair and noise canceling headphones (to all sounds except the ones coming from the bomb). Probably crazy. Whatever. I don't think anyone knows what I'm up to besides Mr. Aizawa and our trainers, anyway.

I take a shaky breath, composing myself. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't having the worst time of my life at the moment. My hands are shaking and I have that sinking feeling in my stomach that people always get right before something horrible is about to happen. The timer by my head steadily ticks down from 35 minutes, only adding to my anxiety. Great. I've already made a lot of progress in deactivating different parts of the bomb from the few hours I've already been at this, though, and if I utilize every second of the next 35 minutes I'm sure I'll be able to safely disarm everything. I would normally have a more creative name for the bomb, but Mr. Aizawa recommended that I just refer to it as 'the bomb' yesterday when I started crying during dinner and called "that fucking death bitch that mocks me with it's ticking."

I accidentally push the screwdriver in a little too hard and I hear a small cracking noise. Shit. I glance anxiously over to the clock, and thank god, it hasn't started going any faster or dropped down a few minutes. Good. I can still do this.

I'm starting to feel good about this. That is unit I see a shadow approach me from behind.

I lift one of my headphones, set down my tools and shift to look up behind me. "Mr. Aizawa?"

But he doesn't say anything. No. He just stares for a second, smiles, raises his hand slowly, and smacks the bomb.

My world shatters.

"Mr. AizaWA WHAT THE FUCK!?" I screech. The timer has gone down by 20 minutes.

"You've been doing pretty well for the past few days. I thought I'd up the stakes a little bit. Congratulations, you've got 13 minutes to finish."

I fight the need to screech into the void. "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE NOW!"

"Not if you work fast." Mr. Aizawa smiles again, tilts his head a little, and leaves.

That bitch. That dumb fucking fuck fuck. That quirk erasing super bitch. That fucking emo hero that probably shops at Hot Topic. How fucking dare he.

Resisting the urge to throw my leftover hammer at Mr. Aizawa's retreating form I try to steady my breath. This is not the time to get overwhelmed and lose my cool. I just need to speed up my process, right? It shouldn't be that hard. I say that but I'm fighting my need to cry.

Thanks a lot, I think, turning back to the bomb and picking up my mini screwdriver. The only thing I can do at this point is to try to get back to work. I'm sure that Mr. Aizawa wouldn't give me a task that he didn't think I could handle, seeing as there are literal lives on the line here, but I get the feeling I should've told Mr. Aizawa to just dump my body in the woods and let the animals take care of it. That way my mom won't go and spend 100,000,000 yen on a funeral for me.

I steadily place my screwdriver back into place, grabbing a pair of tweezers to pull at some wires here and there. Some wires I've already cut, so I can afford to be a little more reckless than I'd normally allow myself. I pull and shift the wires around until I'm able to push past the panel and see something that looks like a computer chip, but it's about the size of my palm. I've got no time to question if this is how a bomb actually works, or to question my lack of knowledge of bombs, though. I'm convinced that this is the main part of the bomb, so I gently maneuver the chip to get it out of the gap I've made for myself. Then again, I'm in a hurry, now down to 10 minutes so I can't help but jostle it around a bit. I cringe as it smacks against a small metal bar and I see the timer drop down to 6 minutes from the corner of my eye.

I stick the tweezers in my mouth and gently take the chip in my hand. This may not technically be that most dangerous part of the bomb, but it does control the murder parts so I've taken it upon myself to be as gentle with it as possible while still working quickly.

I unscrew a small back box attached to the chip, setting it on a patch of grass to my left. With that out of the way, I'm able to see several memory-chip looking things. What even is this? I'm almost positive that this is now how a bomb works.

Instead, I grab the tweezers from my mouth and go with my gut feeling. The blue one. That's definitely it. I slide the side of my tweezers under the chip, popping it off and cutting 5 small wires that connected it to the original chip.

I hold my breath, waiting for confirmation on if I did the right thing or not. The timer beeps twice and shuts off. I sigh flopping back on the ground in relief. I think I died a little.

I'm going to get back at Mr. Aizawa for putting me through this emotional trauma. I'm gonna put fucking hot sauce all over his food tonight and pretend like I just made extra and decided to give it to him because I know that emo fuck doesn't eat when the rest of us do.

I kick my legs up, holding them in the air, stretching my back. I grab the blue chip and walk over to Mr. Aizawa and toss it at his face.

"I disarmed it," I spoke, only I don't entirely recognize my voice. It's more tired than usual.

Mr. Aizawa fishes the chip out of his scarf and stares at it. "Well, this isn't the way that the bomb is set up to be disarmed, but it hasn't exploded yet so good job. Looks like you found a quicker way to take care of the threat." He sticks the chip in his pocket and gives me a small thumbs up. "Go get some water while the next bomb gets set up."

"Are you really allowing him to do that?" Kan Sekijirō, the 1-B teacher asks as I walk away.

"Normally I wouldn't," Mr. Aizawa says, fidgeting with this chip in his pockets. "But I'll give him a little bit of slack this time. He does think I could have possibly just killed him and everyone in this camp. He's reasonably somewhat irritated and he's under a lot of psychological stress from the lack of sleep and his training."

"He doesn't know that the thing won't actually explode?"

"Hell no. If he knew that he wouldn't try so hard."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What??? Two drabbles within 24 hours of each other? That's the power of free time in class, baby. But really, I'm just really enjoying Torēdo and everything he has to offer as a creative outlet. For the longest time I was in such a creative slump and now that I've got something to get invested it's all coming back and oof it's making me really happy.

Sorry if any of this is worded kinda weird or is a little OOC. tbh I'm just here to have fun lololol