Bakugou-san:
Back when he was a runt, Katsuki always forgot that damn rebound slide. No rebound slide, no working trigger, no pew pew. Took months of making and remaking guns ( and disposing failed models in hammered down pieces to that landfill of a beach near his house ) for him to finesse it. Now, he makes them without that annoying little piece intentionally – it’s a tic, like reciting your multiplication table to make sure you’re still coherent.
   “S’none of your business, Ponytail.” He grunts, just as another gun popped off from his shoulder and into the growing pile between them. There’s an answer of sorts in his next statement, delivered with a scalding scowl, “What, you’re too good to practice your quirk?”
   As if to make a point, an empty grenade casing popped out of that same shoulder – an odd addition to the heap of guns it landed on top. Powerful quirk, his ass. There’s nothing she could do that he couldn’t.
 Not a straight nor polite answer (she shouldn’t have expected one), but an answer nonetheless. Fingers lace together in front of her, Momo’s eyes trailing the path the empty grenade takes and stares at its new perch. A soft sigh comes past her lips, position shifting so one hand rests on her hip. Talking to him is like speaking to a brick wall in some ways; it almost feels pointless at times and is entirely a frustrating experience.
 “ No, I’m simply taking a break, ” she answers, ignoring the thrum of pain that runs through her arms. To overuse her quirk like a fool; it’s shameful, that’s all there is to it. “ -- I’m only doing my duty as the class vice president by checking on my classmates. ”
 One hand reaches out to pick up the grenade casing, balancing it in her hands. Its placed back on the pile a moment later, Momo turning her attention fully to Katsuki. “ What are the bullets in these guns usually made of? Are they a lighter material to cause less damage depending on who you’re fighting? ”