STRINGS // KATSUKI BAKUGO [2]

Chapter 2 // The Name of a Hero

You hummed quietly to yourself as you stared down at the city below. You took a bite out of the hotdog in your hand that you had bought from a street vendor before washing it down with a sip of water.

You were a couple hours into your patrol when your stomach began screaming at you, so you decided to take a break and eat some lunch while still overlooking the city from the rooftop of an office building.

Your phone vibrated within the pocket of your jacket, and you wrapped up your hotdog in the tin foil it came in to protect it as you set it on the roof beside your drink before fishing out the device.

'How's it going with figuring out a hero name?'

You sighed at the text from Star and Stripes, and your fingers hovered over the keyboard of your phone as you tried to think of a response.

When she figured out you and Bakugo didn't have hero names, Star and Stripes drilled you on brainstorming. People needed to call you something. You needed to call yourself something.

According to Bakugo, he already had a hero name, but he refused to tell anyone other than his first mentor, Best Jeanist, who originally lectured him about hero names in the first place.

You were lost. You didn't have a clue what to call yourself. Everything you came up with sounded stupid or cringy. You wanted something fitting but not obviously fitting. You weren't going to call yourself The Puppeteer or something else egotistical. That was too show-off-ish.

'Not good. Do you have a random word generator or something?'

You sent the text to your mentor and tucked your phone away before looking down at the boisterous city below. That's when an odd scene caught your attention.

Traffic had stopped. Vehicles came to a halt at the sight of a figure sitting in the middle of the road, and pedestrians began running out to the collapsed individual to help them.

You were forced to leave your lunch on the roof as you stood, muttering to yourself, "always interrupting my food time."

You pulled your goggles over your eyes, tugged your gloves further up your hands, and jumped off the building.

You shot out your strings and stuck them to the windows of the building opposite of you before pulling yourself to the structure.

You landed feet first against the exterior of the building, now only a couple dozen feet above the scene that was playing out in the middle of the road. This allowed you to finally decipher what was happening.

The figure sat down on the road was a young boy, most likely between the age of ten and twelve. The reason he hadn't stood up yet was because his foot was twisted and stuck in the gaps of a sewer drain that happened to be placed in the middle of the street.

'Kid stuck in a drain?' you thought shortly. 'Seriously? Are there no big, bad villains in America?'

Despite your annoyance with the lack of severity of the issue, you still dropped down to the ground to help the boy.

"Alright, out of the way people. Shoo. Shoo!" you pushed your way through the crowd that had formed before kneeling down beside the boy.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, grasping the ankle attached to his stuck foot.

"I'm a hero," you stated before gesturing toward his foot. "How'd this happen?"

"I was crossing the road with my dad, and we lost each other in the crowd when I tripped and got stuck in this thing," the child explained. "We've tried lifting the lid off, but it's bolted to the ground."

You examined the lid of the sewer drain and found that it was in-fact bolted to the road. You didn't have the time to search for the necessary tools to take out the bolts. Your quirks were your tools.

"Hey, look!"

You tuned in on sudden yelling and looked up to find the crowd panicking again. You watched as they pointed to something over your shoulder before scattering.

You stood, turned around, and inhaled sharply at the sight of a bus heading your way. Its hazards were on, signaling there was something wrong as it speeded down and swerved through the streets of Los Angeles.

"Breaks must be broken..." you muttered to yourself before looking around. "Everyone off the street!" you yelled to the remaining citizens that were still either wandering around or waiting in their cars. "Get out of the way!"

Bystanders began to scramble, and you glanced back at the incoming bus before looking down at the child beside you.

You didn't have time to break the drain. You may be able to break the bolts by pulling the lid with your strings, but that'd take too much time. Your best option was to stop the bus, but you couldn't damage it. There were people inside. You had to cushion it.

As you proceeded to shield the boy with your body from a distance, you shot out your strings and wrapped them around two parallel lampposts on either side of the street. You repeated this action several times, creating a large, strong web a few feet in front of you that would, hopefully, stop the bus without dealing any harm to those inside the vehicle.

When you had done all that you could do, the bus was mere yards away. You kneeled down to wrap your arms around the boy, giving him further protection from the collision that was about to ensue.

The bus slammed against the barrier of strings you had created, making a loud creaking noise as its back wheels lifted off the ground. It stretched the web of strings but failed to break it. The barrier eventually returned to its original shape as the bus came to a full halt.

When you were sure your surroundings were safe, you released the boy from your grasp and stood up, looking over your shoulder at the bus, which now had its doors open as the passengers of the vehicle filed out onto the street one by one.

You sighed as you crouched down beside the boy you had been protecting and slipped a few strings down to the drain, which you tied tightly around the bars of the lid. You then stood up, pulling on your strings as you did so, and began walking backward.

It took a minute or two, but you eventually managed to loosen the bolts enough to yank the drain lid off the entrance of the sewer. As you made your way back over to the boy, he slipped his shoe off, which allowed him to finally free his foot.

"Thanks, lady," the boy said as he looked up at you. He put his shoe back on and pushed himself to his feet. "Um, you said you're a hero, right?"

"Yeah," you replied as you removed your goggles from your eyes and pushed them further up your head until they were resting on your hairline.

"What's your hero name then?" the boy asked. You pursed your lips and thought for a moment.

You couldn't tell him your real name. That'd be basic and unmemorable, but you couldn't just stand here and contemplate the topic. You had to give this kid an answer, and get him back to dad.

"Marion," you finally stated, deriving the name from marionette, which was another word for puppet. "Now let's get you back to your dad."

[EDITED]