Sup y'all. A little something I'm cooking up, everything is a bit of a work in progress right now, but this is part of a fanfic I'm thinking of writing. Just gauging engagement lol.
Let me know your thoughts in the reviews, I'd like to see if this story would get any reception.
The dense purple fog dispersed outwards in a cylindrical pattern, before the thunderous bang of a gunshot rang out through the air - not for the first time tonight. Mustard stood still, an attempt to feel the movement from his target through his quirk - but it never came. He flicked his free hand outwards, pulling the sedative gas away from the area to reveal what he'd shot at.
A man stood there, polished and reinforced black combat boots giving way to designed olive drab cargo pants. He'd donned a lightweight ballistic-rated carrier over the top of his long sleeve dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose his muscular forearms. A rough, patchwork tattoo was inked on his left arm - a dragon circling down towards his hand, which had tally marks in ink wrapping around his wrist. Twenty, from memory.
He stood twisted slightly, most likely from dodging the shot - green eyes pierced into him, despite the distance between the two. It was a sight Mustard was all too familiar with.
"Nice of you to join us tonight, Azov. Can't say I'm excited to see you again."
A deep chuckle filled the forest, unfamiliar amongst the sound of battle and screaming. "I didn't think it'd be fitting to let you lot have your way without any resistance." Izuku let his hands hang down by his sides, his right hand hovering just above the thigh holster containing his revolver. "It's not in my interests to let Shigaraki get away with his plans after all."
Mustard sighed, mirroring the man's pose. "No, I didn't think it would. I suppose you've come to stop me, then?"
"Yeah. As much as I hate to." Midoriya's brow furrowed, a small movement which was hard to catch over the half-mask covering his face. "You could've come with me. I'd given you more than enough chances Mustard - we could've made a good team."
"Let bygones be bygones Izuku. You know why I'm here, instead of being pampered by the media as some sort of hero-wannabe." Mustard sneered. "There's no place in the world to be for people like you."
A calm washed over Izuku as his shoulders dropped into a relaxed pose. "Then there's no point waiting any longer."
The two stared at each other in the haze, eyes locked, hands tense at their sides. Time seemed to crawl to a stop, the world around them faded into an almost nothingness.
A slight movement in the air, and both men drew, before a single gunshot rang out in the air. Both stood with revolvers drawn, pointing at each other.
Smoke wafted upwards from Izuku's barrel as a small trail of blood trailed out from below Mustards gas mask. He fell to the ground as Izuku holstered his weapon, coughing as his lungs began to fill with blood. The black boots Mustard had grown familiar with a long time ago crunched across the gravel towards him, stopping just short of his collapsed form. Midoriya crouched down and reached out a gloved hand to remove his gas mask, sadness in his gaze as their eyes met.
"I never wanted it to turn out like this. After all we trained for - I never thought I'd be the one to pull the trigger." He placed the mask gently beside Mustards body.
"Stand proud." Dragging his fingers down his face, he closed the man's eyes. "You were strong."
Izuku stood up, before turning his back on his former rival and beginning to move off. He had people to save - Shigaraki couldn't get his hands on Bakugou. Hopefully with the gas dispersing the students would be able to fight the League more effectively - that should buy him a bit more time to get to the Pomeranian.