Strings (BNHA x OC)

74 || Memories

-Several days later-

Third Person P.O.V.

None of the League had gone anywhere since they lost the last hideout along with Magne. They knew that a lot of heroes were on high alert to try and find them.

Now it was close to 8:30 at night and most people were already sleeping because none of them really had a sleep schedule. But a few of them were still awake.

Puppet was awake and sitting at the kitchen counter in the main room. Kurogiri decided to stay awake to keep her company and to watch over things while the others slept, so he was just washing dishes by hand in the sink. Aside from them, the only other person that was awake was Hawks, who was sitting at the small table in the room with his elbow on the surface of the table while his hand twirled one of his feathers between his fingers boredly.

Hawks decided to get up from his seat and walked up closer to Puppet, standing a few feet away from her. "Hey, Puppet?" He got her attention.

"Hm?" Puppet hummed nonchalantly.

"This is something I've been meaning to ask you about for a while now..." Hawks started, "Most of the time, what villain's and hero's wear means something to them. Like I know Toga was a schoolgirl before she turned to villainy, Compress was an entertainer, and Shigaraki wears those hands. But I think you have a reason for at least your mask."

"How very observant.." Puppet sighed. She placed down her almost empty glass of vodka that Kurogiri had poured her a few minutes ago. She wasn't normally one to drink, but every once and a while she treated herself to an alcoholic beverage.

She stood up from the chair and walked past Hawks towards the stairs, starting to go up them. She walked slowly, wordlessly telling him to follow her.

They both walked up to the room Puppet inhabited and Hawks closed the door.

Puppet pulled her two throwing knife dispensers from her sleeves and set them down on the nightstand. She turned around and faced Hawks.

"First off, my mask is the only thing that really has any meaning, my clothing really is just because I liked it and thought it matched me." Puppet started, "When I was a child everyone was afraid of creepy clowns, but I loved them. That's why I have rosy cheeks on my mask. But the tears-streaks, those have quite the story behind them..."

-Flashback-

Third Person P.O.V.

Black strings hung from the walls and laid limply on the ground in the alleyway. Two people entered it carefully, unaware of what might be there.

Only a little ways into the alley laid two unmoving people. It wouldn't have been so unsettling if there wasn't blood around the alley.

Sitting between the two corpses was another smaller person, they had their back towards the two people and they were making sounds somewhere between sobbing and quiet laughter.

"A child?" The man questioned.

The child turned around. She was crying, the tear-streaks flowing down her cheeks.

The woman motioned for the man to stay behind as she cautiously approached the child, knowing she was probably shaken by the events.