𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 || 𝐑𝐂𝟗𝐆𝐍 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 ★

A Sword for a Dinger

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

You bit your pen as you [for once] stayed silent. Your teacher, Mrs. Driscoll sighed in relief. You were one of her best students, but sometimes your ongoing chants about your superiority could get a bit irritating.

"This is proving to be more of a challenge than I thought it would be..." you mumbled as your ripped another list of suspects out of your notebook. But you paused once a name caught your eye.

Randy Cunningham.

You clicked your pen a few times before gluing the name strip back into your notebook.

"I haven't even made a honking dent! I still have to go through grade ten through twelve-" You let a frown shine through your boastful exterior as the bell rang.

You closed the notebook with your pen before you went to your locker. You opened it only to be met with your metal box. "Oh, I almost forgot about you.." You gave a weak grin as you reached for the object.

You rubbed any dust off of it, courtesy of your cruddy locker. You stored it away after the monster attack yesterday, not having a chance to use it since.

A tap on your shoulder cut off your train of thought. You quickly snapped your head to look at the perpetrator. You slapped their hand away from you on instinct.

"Agh! Careful (Y/n), it's only me" You lifted your goggles a bit, not believing what- or who was standing in front of you.

"W-well you should know better than to frighten your superiors." you cleared your throat before addressing the sight before you. "So Randal, why in gods name are you wearing that outfit?"

He took a moment to examine the blue vest with yellow straps and his plumed hat. "Oh this? I joined the marching band"

".. Did you eat a brain tumor for breakfast?! Joining the marching band means absolute no respect from your peers!" You waved your hands around, trying to convince him to rethink his choices.

But instead he placed his hands on his hips and stood proud, not wincing one bit from your ongoing list of reasons why he should NOT have that geek-wear on.

You shook your head a bit, tapping the lenses of your goggles impatiently. "Okay Randal, I'll play along with your little game. If you say this will get us into the S. O. S then.." you said the next part under your breath, not wanting anyone to hear. "..then I trust you.."

"What was that?" he gave you a puzzled look.

"Nothing-nothing to lose sleep over, 'till next time Randal"

"It's Randy"

"I prefer Randal" you walked past him, not before saying one last thing.

"You look good in that suit by the way" His eyebrows shot up surprised by your words. You turned away with your blank face, putting your full focus back onto your notebook.

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You were running a bit late to the game tonight. The Ninja's identity was all you could think about, and frankly you were starting to get a little frustrated.

"This is rubbish! The great (Y/n) usually accomplishes her goal in a single day. This is getting ridiculous!!" You childishly threw your notebook to the ground. A thick fog suddenly emerged from under its pages, circling your legs like it did the night of Bucky's attack.

You widened your eyes, stepping away from the contaminated pages. You were now much more cautious. The mist once again retreated back into the vent, and this time you showed no hesitation following.