Chapter 2: "Red-Head"

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I can't save my father and change him into the man that he once was. Not now at least. But I have a solution. 

I walk along the sidewalk, ignoring Mrs. Gregory's unamused expression and a few sixteen-year-old boys staring at me with smirks on their faces. I slide the hood over my head and stuff my hands into my purple hoodie. I pass by a few people and a redhead kid.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand slams onto my mouth and my arm and jerks me into an alley. I get thrown onto the floor. My head slams onto the gravel and my vision blurs. I look up to see the boys that I saw earlier hovering over me. One of them was cracking their knuckles and their neck. The other had a  smirk on his face and a kitchen knife in their hand.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here," The brown-headed one- the one with the knife- leaned in to be a few inches from my face. 

Stall! 

I slightly back away and thought of something smart to say, "Um, an amateur and a toddler with a kitchen knife and, I guess you can call me a damsel in distress." 

"Oh, I don't think it's smart to be calling someone who's about'a beat you up an amateur," the knuckle cracker smirked. 

"Don't get cocky, punk," the brunette gripped onto the collar of my hoodie. 

"Riiiiight," I trailed. I was about to activate my quirk when I saw the red-head I passed by earlier standing behind the teens. He had a face full of hatred and he was staring at their heads. He glanced at me. He put his arms up and activated his quirk. "But, I wouldn't exactly say that I'm the one getting beat down. 

"And why is that," the knife kid asked pulling me closer to his face. 

"'Cause, you're about to get beat up by a red-head."

At the moment, Red-Head's arms and hands hardened. He punched the kid in the stomach and swept his arm by the one who was holding me. I successfully landed on my feet but almost lost my balance when Red-Head grabbed my hand and jerked me up. 

I smile, "Thank you. I appreciate it." Red-Head did a closed-eyes smile.

"Glad I can help a damsel in distress," he slightly bowed. 

I laughed. I looked down to see that his hand was still holding mine, "Wow, your hand's warm." I clasped my other hand over my mouth. Red-Head burst out laughing and muttered thanks. He let go. 

"If you don't mind, can I ask what your name is?" 

"Oh, I'm (Y/N). Yours?"

"Kirishima."

I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, "Oh, okay... but I'm still callin' you Red-Head."

He laughs, "Whatever you want is fine. As long as if it's manly," he mutters the last part.

"Manly?"

"Yeah, ya know, manly. Being a man and, um, being brave and courageous. Helping others even if it means putting others' lives in front of your own."I chuckle. I remembered my father and what he would think when he finds out I snuck out of the house. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I just remembered that I had to buy some groceries for Mom," I lie. 

"Oh, okay! Well, see you around," he smiles.

"Okay!"

I sprint and head in the direction of home. Why do I still call it home? Oh, yeah, because Mom lived there and it holds many memories. Mom showing me how to control my quirk. Mom playing freeze tag with me and I cannot forget, Mom's blackberry pies that she would make on my birthday and holidays. I remember a few words of wisdom that she shared with me. 

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