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There were many aspects of being a hero that the general public didn’t think about. To them, the life of a hero was all glitz and glamour, flashy one sided battles and commercials. Heroes only existed in the ten-minute bursts that people saw them in during the day or when they were on TV. They saw the bright costumes and heard the tag lines and to most, that’s all they were.
People didn’t think about what went on underneath. How the caricature hid the fragility they all felt. How, for many, every step induced agony as old injuries twisted and flared, but they were never allowed to show it on their faces for fear of demoralising the public. Living with the internal moral debate of leading a life entrenched in violence; they were supposed to be heroes and yet it seemed all they did was hurt people instead of preventing their fall into crime. The crippling self-doubt and survivor’s guilt, the ever-rising number of heroes having to go on leave or retire due to trauma. If they lived long enough to retire in the first place.
Toshinori didn’t think the average person would ever see a wall covered in pictures of missing children and know they were the ones responsible for bringing them home. He didn’t think the average person could rattle off the statistics involved in finding abducted kids. Didn’t think that the average person would doubt that all of these children would be recovered. That they were all still alive.
He hated that he could.
It wasn’t often that he was called in to work on a human trafficking case. All Might was too much, too loud for something that required such delicacy. Ordinarily, a case like this would be left to the police and underground heroes, but they were getting desperate. Sixteen children had been abducted, ranging in ages and quirks. There was no discernible pattern in their abductions, some had been taken from parks and playgrounds, others from their homes; one had even been taken from her preschool. There was a varied amount of time between abductions, some had days, others had weeks. The people were in a panic.
Toshinori stood in Tsukauchi’s office in the police precinct and did what he had done every day for the past month.
He looked.
He looked at the faces on the wall, saw their bright shining faces and crooked smiles and he mourned. Even if these children were still alive, he knew a part of their light would be forever dimmed. There were sixteen pictures on Naomasa’s wall, sixteen lives that he would fight to his last breath to find and protect. Some of them had barely come into their quirks and his heart ached, but he wouldn’t let himself look away.
He owed them that much.
“-nori. Toshinori. Toshi!”
Toshinori blinked back to himself and saw a gently steaming cup of tea held in front of his chest. He followed the hand up to see Naomasa was the one offering it. There was no judgment in his eyes, just like there hadn’t been every other time the detective had to drag his attention away from the images in front of him.
He took the cup and felt his muscles tingle as they moved position for the first time since he had walked into the office. He had been locked in place, doing nothing more than look and think. He took a sip and closed his eyes as its warmth spread through him. It wasn’t enough to take away the chill that had settled in his bones since he was brought on for this case. Nothing short of that night’s raid would chase that away.
Toshinori took a deep breath. As useful as he had been on this case, he couldn’t commend the underground heroes enough. The public had been hard on them, less willing to give leeway to heroes they didn’t recognise. They were even less inclined when the police refused to release their names at all. Half of Toshinori’s job had been drawing away the media and public eye so they could do their work in peace.
It was through their resources that they had tracked the criminals down to the meeting point for the sale of the children. Their intel placed the transaction in a warehouse near the docks, privately owned and secluded. Perfect for shipping illegal wares out of the country under the radar. Toshinori’s skin crawled at the thought. They were children, not product.
“It’s almost over,” he said, half to himself.
“Twenty minutes and we’ll be ready to move out,” Naomasa confirmed. “Are you ready?”
Toshinori downed the rest of his tea and sent one last look at the wall. Sixteen pictures. Sixteen lives.
He turned to Naomasa and put his hands on his hips. “Let’s bring them home.”
The warehouse district was still. The place had seen plenty of crime since its inception. They had interrupted two drug deals as they moved into position and Toshinori could only imagine what was contained inside the sea of buildings.
But that wasn’t his purpose for being here. He held himself tense as he waited with his team. He had to be patient, as much as he wanted to rush in, there was too much on the line for him to act recklessly. He wasn’t the only hero on this mission and it wasn’t just one foe he would be facing.
One of the underground heroes, Snapshot, stepped forward. Her quirk allowed her to produce portals that you could see and hear through. While they weren’t able to pass through them, they proved invaluable for reconnaissance. She dropped what looked like a small pebble onto the ground in front of them, then silently made her way to one of the windows.
She waited a few moments to ensure no one was near the window, then placed another pebble on the windowsill. Keeping low to the ground, she made her way back to the group. When no alarm was raised, she activated her quirk. A projection came out of the pebble on the ground that showed the interior of the warehouse.
Two dozen people stood in the centre, half on each side. They were speaking amicably, both sides expecting a clean transaction, but there was still a tension in the room that came from a mutual distrust. There were a few obvious mutations amongst them, but it seemed they would mostly be going in blind when it came to their quirks.
Toshinori finished cataloguing the villains and instead turned his attention to the rest of the warehouse.
And promptly had to fight against throwing up.
There were four cages, all of them clearly homemade, with roughly welded frames and chicken wire in between the bars. In the cages, were the faces he’d been staring at for a month. No longer smiling and happy, they were dirty and bruised, huddling together to try and give each other a modicum of comfort. They were pale; some of them quietly sobbing, others curled in on themselves, not daring to look up.
Three of the cages had four children each, all of them small enough that the older children wouldn’t have been able to stand up straight.
He looked at one of the children, a little boy, wedged at the back of the cage. All Toshinori could see was the back of his head, but that was enough for him to identify him. Handa Ren, nine years old. He could make flowers grow in his hair that changed to match his mood. His picture back at the precinct had shown him with buds of honeysuckle and daisies, showing his happiness and innocence.
Now, growing in his tangled hair were withered, dead leaves, marigolds and monkshood. Sadness. Grief. Beware, a deadly foe is near.
Toshinori tore his gaze away to look at the final cage. For some reason, the villains had only put one child in it. They obviously didn’t care about the children’s well-being, so it couldn’t have been to avoid overcrowding. Maybe it had to do with the child’s quirk; he couldn’t see any discernible features, nothing that would give away the nature of their quirk.
Which, now that he thought about it, seemed odd. Every one of these kids had some visible aspect to their quirk, from Handa’s flowers to Kaneko’s rainbow-shifting skin. Why would they change their victimology for this child?
Toshinori brought his attention back to the criminals. He would be able to look over the children after the fight and he couldn’t let himself be distracted by them (there were only thirteen, there was meant to be sixteen, please let him have miscounted, please let there be sixteen).
He drew a deep breath and waited for the signal to advance. Once everyone was in position, he would jump and burst through the roof, making a big enough spectacle of himself that hopefully would make all the criminals focus on him instead of the (thirteen, just thirteen) children. He would draw them away from the cages while the other heroes defended them.
It had been decided that he would be the one to get the children. They were more likely to react better to his well-known smile than the underground heroes who would be no more than strangers to them.
He heard Naomasa’s voice in his comm and Snapshot deactivated her portals. He crouched and followed the whispered countdown, ready to jump on cue.
“..two... one. All Might, go!”
Toshinori launched himself and rocketed through the ceiling, shattering the skylight and cracking the cement in a rocky crater beneath him. He straightened his back and raised his head, looking each criminal in the eye. He knew his own were glowing as he stared them down.
“I. AM. HERE!”
The fight passed by in a blur; he blocked a man with a porcupine quirk by pulling up a section of the floor then kicked it into him. A woman with some kind of magpie mutation darted into the air and kept swooping him until he picked up another criminal and spear threw him at her, knocking them both out.
He was careful to avoid hitting them towards the cages. A few criminals had darted towards them after he landed but were quickly taken down by the underground heroes. They kept them boxed in so their only options were to fight or surrender. The ones that tried to flee quickly found it was a waste of time; Naomasa’s officers had surrounded the warehouse. There was nowhere for them to run.
It took everything to make sure Toshinori didn’t go overboard and hurt the villains too badly. Every part of him was screaming that they deserved to hurt, after what they had done to these kids why shouldn’t he go all out? But he held himself back enough to ensure he didn’t accidentally kill one of them; the parents deserved their own justice and he would bring these scum in so they could enact it.
He knocked out a man with barbed wire for hair and looked around for his next opponent to see that the rest of them were in varying states of unconsciousness. He did a quick look over of the other heroes to ensure none of them were too badly wounded and signalled for Naomasa and his officers to move in.
He left it to the police to restrain the villains, trusting the other heroes to watch over them and calmly hurried to the children that were still stuck in their cages. Some of them had moved to clutch at the doors of their cages, little fingers curled around the wire as they gazed at him in awe. Others had pressed themselves as far back into them as they could. What worried Toshinori most were the kids that had barely moved, the ones that blankly followed him with their eyes and didn’t seem to register what had happened at all.
Toshinori had long since mastered the art of keeping a balance of boisterousness and reassurance in his voice. He put his hands on his hips and tried to pull all of the children’s attention onto himself. He wanted them to focus on him rather than the criminals behind him. “It is alright everyone,” he declared, “because I am here!”
The children that had pushed themselves to the front of the cages began to cry out, “All Might! All Might saved us!” It spread to the other children and he heard as they whispered to each other, “It’s okay now, All Might’s here.” He watched as they picked their heads up and some hope return to their despondent eyes.
He ripped open the door to the first cage and dropped to his knees as the kids flung themselves at him, clinging to him with desperate hands as they sobbed into his chest. Toshinori made sure to comfort every single one, ruffled hair here, a back pat there. He carefully picked up the ones that were too exhausted to walk out of their cage and ensured that any who had clung to each other were escorted out together.
He ushered all the children into the waiting arms of the police and other heroes. He talked all the while; giving gentle reassurances that they were safe, that nothing else would happen now that he was here, when he came to the last cage.
Inside was a small boy, probably around ten years old, restrained far more heavily than any of the other children; sitting with his knees to his chest, wrists tied to his ankles. Black hair dirty and tangled, clumps missing from where it had been pulled to move him around; chest heaving as he frantically pulled in breaths.
But that wasn’t what made Toshinori pause, wasn’t what made him sick to his stomach and use every ounce of his will to keep up his smile.
The poor boy was blindfolded.
To call it that felt too kind, too gentle. The part that covered his eyes was made out of a woven kevlar fabric but the edges were encased in an unyielding metal that dug into the boy’s face. The skin around the blindfold was purple and bulging over the sides and he could see scratches and streaks of dried blood where it dug into his nose and cheeks.
The poor boy’s nails were torn and crusted with blood as well. He must have clawed at his face before they tied his hands to his legs. Had he ever managed to pull it off? To give himself a few precious seconds of hope, to feel as if he might be able to save himself, just to be plunged into darkness again? Did they toy with him? Let him free himself just to break him back down?
Toshinori pushed past his rage and tried to refocus when he noticed something else. He didn’t recognise this child. He had been staring at those pictures for weeks, had committed each individual face to memory. He could see every one when he closed his eyes and they haunted him in his dreams.
But he hadn’t seen this one. He thought perhaps they had recently abducted him but that didn’t fit; his wounds were too old and the blindfold seemed custom-made and had clearly been on him for a while. So why wasn’t his face among the missing children?
That meant they hadn’t recovered thirteen of the missing children, just twelve. They - he - had lost four children. His mind raced to match the faces on Naomasa’s wall to the ones he had seen tonight, despite how much he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know who he had failed, whose families would be getting phone calls saying their child wouldn’t be coming home.
Toshinori forcibly shook himself off. The boy was pale and hyperventilating; if he didn’t calm down soon, he would make himself sick or pass out. He ripped off the lock on the cage door and the boy yelped, he frantically tried to push himself backwards but only succeeded in tilting himself over on his side.
“It’s alright, my boy,” Toshinori soothed. His heart broke for this poor boy, all he wanted to do was gather him in his arms but he knew touching him while he was like this would just make his panic worse. “Everything’s alright. I am here, I am going to get you out. You are safe now, I promise.”
He kept up his soft murmuring, not moving until it seemed the boy had calmed slightly. His breathing was still laboured but he wasn’t trying to get away anymore. He decided to try and approach the boy again. “Will you let me take off the blindfold, my boy? Would you like that?” he asked softly.
The boy hiccupped and pulled his legs even tighter to his chest. Toshinori waited as the boy took a few moments to breathe and think it over before he nodded.
“Good, well done,” he praised. “I’ll need to pick you up in order to do that. Is that alright?”
An even longer pause. Toshinori refused to push him; no matter how much he wanted to get the boy out and take him to a medic and get him home, he knew rushing him now would be incredibly detrimental. He had to give the boy agency and let him move at his own pace.
He saw the boy shudder and finally nod again and gave an internal sigh of relief. “Good, thank you, my boy. I’m coming in now.”
He waited for a moment to see if the boy protested and when none came he eased the door open and pushed his shoulders through. This close, he could see the blood dried into the rope around the boy’s wrists and his blood boiled. How dare they do this to a child?
He carefully locked away his anger; he couldn’t let it seep into his voice or movements. “I’m about to touch you, alright?” he warned before he wrapped his arms around his shoulders and legs.
The boy sucked in a breath and his whole body locked up as Toshinori lifted him out of the cage. He was quick to place him back down in front of it and pull his arms back. “You are doing so well, my boy, I’m so proud of you. Now, I’m going to take off the blindfold alright? I’ll have to touch the back of your head,” he told him.
Another nod and Toshinori twisted his body around the boy to see the back of his head. He gently smoothed the hair away from the band. There was some kind of locking mechanism but it didn’t seem reinforced in any way; the criminals mustn’t have been worried about a strength quirk then. He carefully pinched the band on either side of the lock and pulled.
The lock broke easily and he settled back in front of the boy before letting the blindfold fall away. The boy blinked rapidly as he tried to adjust to the light and Toshinori watched as blood began to flow back into the skin around his eyes. He couldn’t imagine how much his poor face must be aching. He kept a hold of the blindfold hoping the investigators might be able to recognise the work and track whoever made it.
The boy finished adjusting to the light and as soon as he took in Toshinori knelt in front of him, he jerked back. His eyes began to glow a bright red and his matted hair rose above his head, seemingly defying gravity. Toshinori recognised this as his quirk and was about to reassure him when he realised.
He couldn’t feel One For All anymore.
Decades of buzzing energy in his skin, the sing of it zapping through his veins, his master’s greatest gift to him was gone.
Toshinori panicked for a moment before forcibly pushing it aside. It was clearly the boy’s quirk affecting his own. This child wasn’t All For One, he hadn’t been touching him when his quirk activated, he hadn’t taken it. He probably had some kind of nullification quirk. If he calmed the boy enough to deactivate his quirk, it would come back, so had to pull himself together.
He took a deep breath and gentled his smile. “It’s alright, my boy. I am here to help,” he said. “Isn’t that better? You’re safe now, no one will hurt you anymore, I promise. I won’t let them. I can take off the ropes as well, if you’ll let me?”
The boy shook as he spoke. He was still so afraid. This more than anything let Toshinori push away his panic about his quirk completely. He had never seen someone so scared of him before. Even though he knew it wasn’t truly directed at him, it still made his heart clench. The boy studied him before taking a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes and his hair fell back against his shoulders.
Toshinori felt the rush of electricity as One For All flowed back through him and he took a heartbeat to soak in its comforting presence. He refocused on the boy and saw him squeeze his eyes tightly before opening them again. His quirk must have something to do with his eyes.
“Would you like me to break the ropes now, my boy?” he asked. “They must be quite painful.”
The boy barely paused this time before he nodded. Having his sight back had done more to calm him than anything Toshinori had said and he could understand that perfectly. Having a sense taken away would be terrifying enough to a child, but to be stripped of his quirk as well? He was honestly surprised the boy wasn’t screaming.
Toshinori raised his hands slowly, he knew his every move would be watched and he wanted to make sure he didn’t startle the boy. He pinched the rope around his wrists the same way he did the blindfold and snapped them and they fell away. He untangled both wrists before breaking the rope binding his ankles together. The skin underneath was bruised and rubbed raw, torn and bloody in places and must have stung something awful.
The boy immediately brought his hands to his eyes to rub them and Toshinori made a mental note to ask if the medics had any eye drops. He felt movement behind him and while the boy was distracted he looked up to see Naomasa holding a blanket out to him. He nodded in thanks, took the blanket and at the same time slipped the detective the blindfold. He turned back to the boy and felt the detective walk away.
The boy finished rubbing his eyes (Toshinori noticed he was careful to avoid the cuts on his face) and looked back at him. He lifted up the blanket slightly, “Would you like to put this around you? It’s cold in here after all.”
He sniffed and gently reached out to the blanket as if it would bite him. As much as he wanted to wrap it around the boy himself, Toshinori held himself back; a movement like that could make the boy feel cornered and ruin the little trust he had managed to build.
He waited until the boy had settled the blanket around himself before taking the risk and asking, “I would like to take you to a medic, if that’s alright? They’ll be able to clean up your cuts and make you feel better.”
The boy froze and his eyes widened. “I will stay with you the entire time,” Toshinori promised. “No one will touch you without your permission. We all just want to make sure you’re alright. Then, we’ll be able to get you out of here.”
He watched as the boy deliberated. He held the blanket tightly and despite how much they must have ached, he kept his knees up to his chest. He didn’t make eye contact but constantly kept his eyes on Toshinori, seemingly ready to use his quirk the minute he became a threat. He hoped his promises were enough to sway the boy, he didn’t want to run the risk of his wounds getting infected.
The boy took a shuddering deep breath and nodded. He tried to stand but his legs collapsed under his weight and he fell forward into Toshinori. The boy froze and Toshinori could feel his heartbeat racing in fear. He kept his hands gentle as he settled the boy back on the ground.
“You are quite tired, my boy,” he soothed. “Would it be alright if I carried you to the medic?”
The boy swallowed and hung his head. He couldn’t imagine how vulnerable he must feel, to finally be free but unable to leave under his own power. To have to rely on someone after everything he had gone through, would be a lot to have to deal with.
The boy finally nodded and Toshinori gently lifted him up so he rested against his shoulder. His fingers tightened on the blanket but one hand snaked out to clutch at his costume. Toshinori was careful to keep his body in between the boy and the arrested criminals on the other side of the warehouse.
There was plenty of physical distance between them but he didn’t want them to so much as look at the boy in his arms. They seemed preoccupied with one of the underground heroes though, one by the name of Anonymous. They could see people’s quirks with a touch, a truly invaluable ability.
The boy was trying so hard to be brave and appear nonchalant as he walked to the medical station outside, but Toshinori could feel his desperate grip on his costume and the shivers that still racked his body. He stopped in front of one of the many paramedics, an older woman who gave off the controlled demeanour of someone who had gone through plenty of crises in their life. She motioned to the gurney beside her and Toshinori placed the boy down and settled in next to him.
The medic paused for a second but smiled when Toshinori inclined his head. “Hello there, my name is Sano, I’m here to look you over and tend to any injuries you may have.”
The boy shifted his gaze to lock on the medic and leant into Toshinori. He gently pushed back against him.
“I can assess people’s current physical health,” she continued. “Say, you had a broken bone. One touch and I would know where it is and how badly it was broken.”
The boy seemed to stop breathing when she said “touch”. “Not to worry, my boy,” Toshinori reassured. “She won’t use her quirk without your permission.”
“Of course,” Sano confirmed. “It won’t hurt; in fact, you won’t feel anything but a little tingling, but it’s entirely up to you.”
The boy’s fingers tightened against the blanket, for a second he thought the material would rip. “How about, while you decide, Sano here could perhaps check if she has any eye drops?” Toshinori proposed. “Your eyes seemed to be irritating you before.”
The boy swallowed and nodded. Sano smiled and said, “I can most certainly do that.” She turned and began rummaging through her substantial first aid kit.
Toshinori smiled down at him. “You are doing so well, my boy,” he praised.
The medic turned back to them with a small bottle in her hand and gave it to the boy, deliberately keeping her fingers at the top of the bottle and away from his own. She stepped back to give him some space and the boy hesitated before looking up to squeeze the drops into his eyes.
He blinked and tentatively took the tissue she offered to dab away the excess. “Now, if it’s alright, I’d like to use my quirk on you,” she asked, “just to make sure you’re not hurt too badly or somewhere we can’t see.”
The boy flickered his gaze to Toshinori but he just smiled at him; it was his decision to make, he didn’t want to influence him either way. He looked back at the medic and evaluated her before taking a deep breath and nodding.
“Alright,” Sano smiled. “Now, like I said, the only thing you’ll feel is a mild tingling. Is it okay if I touch your hand?”
The boy angled the hand still holding the eye drops slightly out and watched her like a hawk as she slowly touched her fingertips to the back of it. If Toshinori had to guess, the only reason he had agreed was because his eyes were wet enough for him to be able to cancel her quirk at a moment’s notice.
The boy tensed when her fingertips glowed a pale lavender, but he didn’t activate his quirk or flinch away. Toshinori saw her eyes take on the same purple hue for a few seconds and then she let her hand fall away. The boy immediately pulled his hand back inside the blanket.
“Luckily, it seems you only have some cuts and bruises, as well as the abrasions on your wrists and ankles,” she informed them. “I’d like to start with the cuts on your face, if that’s alright?”
The boy nodded and Sano gathered her supplies. He stayed stock still as she began cleaning the scratches and the cuts caused by the blindfold. She was gentle; only using the gauze to touch him and didn’t place her other hand on him at all. Whenever she lifted the gauze, she would tell him before she placed it back down.
She was quick and thorough and, after asking his permission, moved onto the grazes caused by the ropes. The boy watched her closely the entire time and Toshinori took the opportunity to study him.
With his face clear of blood, Toshinori could see thin, silvery scars where the mask had dug into different parts of his face. He could tell that the fresh cuts were laid over top of scars as well. He hoped beyond anything, that the scars would fade with time.
He desperately held onto his smile as Sano finished bandaging the boy’s ankles. “Okay, you two are all ready to go,” the medic said brightly and stepped away to reorganise her supplies. The boy had been the last child to exit the warehouse and the criminals would be treated once they had been taken back to the precinct.
Toshinori was about to speak when he heard shouting. He tensed, thinking one of the criminals had escaped, but then registered the flashing lights of photographers. The press had seen or heard all the police activity and come to investigate. Since they were here after the raid had concluded, Toshinori guessed they may have used a scanner to tune into the police radio.
The boy began to hyperventilate at the sight of the encroaching reporters and Toshinori knew he had to get him out of here. If the press saw All Might had decided to stick around for this particular child, then they would never leave him alone. Toshinori knew they were useful in spreading his message of peace and justice, but the way they hounded the people he rescued made him furious.
They could bother him all they liked, after all these years he was used to it, but could they just leave the victims alone? They had already been through something awful, their lives irreparably changed. They didn’t need someone shoving a camera in their faces, demanding to know what it was like to be saved by the Symbol of Peace.
Toshinori felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Naomasa standing behind him. “Need a lift?”
“Don’t you need to oversee the criminals’ transfer to the precinct?” he asked.
“I’ve got another detective and Anonymous to handle it,” his friend replied. “We need to get him out of here.”
Toshinori turned back to the panicking boy beside him. He gently placed his hand on the boy’s knee and he jumped and snapped his head towards him. “Let’s leave before they get any closer, shall we?” he suggested.
The boy nodded and stood on shaking legs. Toshinori kept a hand out, ready to steady him if he stumbled and Naomasa led them to his car.
The drive back to the station was silent. The boy pressed himself against the door and Toshinori counted his blessings that his friend had brought his own vehicle instead of a standard patrol car. The last thing he wanted was to put the boy into anything resembling a cage.
The inside of the precinct was a madhouse. Officers were rushing to get the cells ready to house the incoming criminals, letting out the people that had been arrested but not charged. There was paperwork to get ready and all available computers were getting set up to look up and record everyone coming in.
The boy’s vigilance could rival that of any pro hero. He scoped out every window and door, took note of everyone in the room, kept Naomasa in his eye line at all times and made sure to keep Toshinori in between himself and the detective. His paranoia broke Toshinori’s heart, though he was thankful that the boy seemed to trust him a little. He stayed close to his side and would flinch into him whenever something startled him or someone came too close.
The only thing that broke his attention away from mapping the room was when they passed the other rescued children that had been gathered in the bullpen. He scanned every single one, eyes catching on visible bandages or bruises. None of them were crying anymore; whether it was from exhaustion or if they finally felt safe, Toshinori didn’t know. The boy examined the surrounding officers as well, as if checking to see that none of them were mistreating the kids.
This gave Toshinori an idea as to why he had been in a cage alone; why he was restrained, with blood under his broken nails. He had defended the other children. Whether it was before he had been blindfolded or even after, at some point, he had attacked his captors in an attempt to protect or free the other children.
The children looked up when they walked through to Naomasa’s office. While many of the called out and waved to Toshinori, a good few of them also waved towards the boy who brought his fingers up in a tiny wave back to them.
The precinct had a bin of cheap or donated clothing to give to people when their own had to be collected for evidence. It had been raided for child-size clothing and most of what was left was far too big for the boy. In the end, they found a pair of sweatpants that would have to be rolled up and a hoodie that would hang to his knees.
He walked him back to Naomasa’s office so he could change. While he and the boy had searched for clothes, the detective had dragged a blank whiteboard in front of the wall covered in the missing children’s pictures. Toshinori was thankful for his forethought; who knew how the boy would’ve reacted to them. Toshinori and Naomasa waited in the hallway while the boy changed.
“Has he said anything to you yet?” the detective asked.
“Not a word,” he replied. “I don’t want to pressure him but...”
“But without a name, we’re stuck,” Naomasa picked up for him. “I can run his physical and quirk descriptions, but we don’t know when or where he was abducted. And black hair and dark eyes are pretty common.”
“And we would run into the same problem with the quirk registry,” he sighed. “What I could glean of his quirk is too vague; some kind of nullification, most likely involving his eyes. We may eventually find him but hardly in a timely manner. His family must be so worried.”
“We could wait for Anonymous but they won’t be done until morning at the earliest. He’s our best bet. I’ll ask him, I don’t want you to be the one to make him uncomfortable. He’s starting to trust you and I don’t want to damage that.”
The sound of the doorknob cut off any further conversation. Toshinori had seen how the blanket had given the boy some comfort, as well as something he could hide himself in, and included a new, softer one with the pile of clothes. Sure enough, when the boy opened the door to let them in, it had been firmly wrapped around his shoulders.
The boy quickly stepped back into the room and retreated until his back hit the far wall. Naomasa walked behind his desk, sat in his chair and placed his laced hands on his desk so the boy could easily see them. Toshinori angled one of the other chairs so he was between the boy and the door without blocking it completely.
Anyone that came in would have to go through him but there was still space for the boy to dash out if he felt threatened. He seemed to realise that and slowly stepped towards the other chair. He pulled it a little towards the window and, when neither of them said anything, sat down.
Naomasa took a slightly exaggerated breath so he wouldn’t startle the boy when he began speaking. “My name is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. I’m a good friend of All Might’s. What’s your name?”
The boy stayed silent.
“I know this is scary,” the detective said gently, “but all we want to do is help you. We just want to get you home.”
Something about that made the boy tense further. Toshinori wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to say anything but he knew they needed him to. It just hurt to see him so afraid when he was somewhere safe. He wouldn’t be hurt here but he knew it would take more than their word before he believed that.
“I know I’m asking a lot. We’ve gotten you this far, do you think you can help us out? Just a little?” Naomasa pressed.
Silence. The detective tried asking in a few other ways, suggested he could write it down if he didn’t want to talk, that he could whisper it to Toshinori and Naomasa himself didn’t even need to know it but they were getting nowhere.
There was a knock at the door. The boy glanced at the locked window like he was considering jumping through it, before shrinking behind Toshinori’s bulk. At that angle, he would see whoever walked through the door without them immediately seeing him. Toshinori adjusted himself to further block the door and the boy looked at him appraisingly. Toshinori nodded to Naomasa and the detective called out, “Come in.”
Officer Sansa poked his head in. “Sir? I thought you’d like to know that we’ve been able to contact the families of all the children,” the cat-headed officer told them, “they should start arriving soon.” As he finished speaking his eyes drifted down to the boy, who had straightened and hadn’t taken his eyes off him from the moment he opened the door.
Toshinori prepared himself to calm the boy, to assure him that this new person wasn’t a threat but he wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t trying to hide behind Toshinori. No, after straightening, the boy hadn’t moved at all. He was just staring at Sansa. At first, he thought perhaps the boy had frozen in panic, but there was no fear in his eyes. As the seconds passed Toshinori thought he might have seen... awe?
“You’re a cat,” the boy said in the smallest whisper.
Sansa’s ear twitched and the boy’s eyes widened. “Yes, I am,” he replied in a soft voice.
Toshinori blinked. The boy hadn’t said a word during the entire rescue, he barely responded at all when spoken to, but Sansa had managed to get him to speak, unprompted, due to his mutation quirk. He turned to Naomasa who looked back at him with an equal amount of shock. The detective motioned for the officer to come inside and keep talking.
Sansa nodded slightly and calmly stood behind Naomasa’s desk. He had noticed the way everyone in the room had positioned themselves and placed himself accordingly, Toshinori noted with approval. “Do you like cats, little one?”
The boy looked to be warring between his distrust of people and his apparent fascination with cats. He seemed to steel himself before nodding.
“My name is Officer Sansa. Can you tell me yours?”
The boy hesitated. “Aizawa Shouta.”
Toshinori could have cried. He looked at Naomasa and the detective was already on his computer running the name.
The boy gulped. “Do you purr?” he asked, voice still quiet and unsure.
“I’ve been known to, on occasion,” Sansa chuckled. In a deliberate move, the officer brought his tail up to curl over his shoulder. “I have this too”.
The boy - Aizawa - was enraptured, his eyes following every flicker and twitch of the tail. He eventually dragged his eyes away from the appendage to look the cat-headed officer directly in the eye. He then did something quite odd.
The way he blinked changed. Toshinori’d noticed Aizawa seemed to wait as long as he could between blinks and when he finally gave into the urge, they were quick and seemed unsatisfying. But as he looked Sansa in the eyes, he dragged his lids down in slow deliberate blinks; letting them stay shut for a moment or two before slowly opening them again.
At first, Toshinori thought that there might’ve been something wrong with Aizawa’s eyes. If his quirk manifested through his eyes the way he suspected, then it wouldn’t surprise him that there were drawbacks to it, but this was entirely too purposeful. He’d had to gather himself before meeting Sansa’s gaze and the blinks seemed practised.
It was then that Toshinori remembered something he had read ages ago; some little fun fact thing he had seen on a website when he had been late night browsing. Cats tended to communicate through their eyes. The way Aizawa was blinking, he was trying to tell Sansa, “It’s okay, you can trust me, I won’t hurt you”. Sansa seemed to pick up what he was doing as well and began blinking back at him in the same fashion.
He pulled his eyes away from the two when Naomasa quietly cleared his throat. “All Might, can I talk to you outside for a second?”
“Of course.” He looked to the boy at his side. “Is it alright if I step out for a moment? I promise I’ll be right back.”
Aizawa shifted his eyes back to Toshinori. He searched for something in his face and whatever he found made him set his shoulders and nod.
Toshinori gave him a thumbs-up and turned to Sansa. “Officer Sansa, do you mind staying with young Aizawa?”
“I’d be happy to, sir.”
He stood and slowly moved towards the door. Aizawa’s eyes skittered between him and Sansa and Toshinori saw how tensely he held himself, but it was nowhere near the level of fear he had displayed just ten minutes before. He seemed determined to get through the next few minutes. Toshinori felt a rush of pride and respect for Aizawa, he could already tell that he was such a strong boy.
He followed Naomasa slightly up the hallway, far enough for privacy but still within shouting distance if Aizawa got too frightened. He faced the detective with a lightness in his chest; if he wanted to talk to him then surely he must have managed to find Aizawa’s family.
That lightness faded as he took in the stern expression on his friend’s face “What did you find, Naomasa?”
The detective crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “That boy...”
Toshinori found himself tensing as his friend trailed off. “Yes?”
Naomasa sighed. “He was never reported missing, Toshi.”
Toshinori blinked. “But... that’s not possible. With his injuries, not to mention the specialised blindfold, he was clearly gone past the required time to lodge a missing persons report.”
“Yes, he would’ve been,” he confirmed. “But there was nothing about him. No missing persons, no runaway notice; not even any inquiries from his school. No one is looking for Aizawa.”
He had to stop and take this in. How could no one be looking for him? The abrasions on his ankles and wrists, as well as the welts on his face from the blindfold indicated days, if not weeks, of captivity. In all of that time... how could no one be missing him? Toshinori couldn’t understand it.
He heard the doors to the precinct open and looked up as the families of the abducted children began to stream into the station. He watched as parents burst into tears, kids ran into welcoming arms, brothers and sisters be reunited. Little Handa Ren launched himself at his father and the dead leaves began to fall out of his hair. Even the picture before him wasn’t enough to pierce the numbness in his body.
Toshinori’s head snapped back as the door to Naomasa’s office opened and Sansa quietly walked out. “Is everything alright with young Aizawa?” he demanded, stepping closer to the officer.
Sansa let go of the door before it fully shut and put his hands up. “He’s fine, sir. I could see he was starting to get uncomfortable, so I figured it was best to remove myself.”
Toshinori let out a relieved breath and nodded. “That was very astute of you, Officer Sansa. Thank you for prioritising his comfort.”
“Of course, sir,” the junior officer replied. He gave a slight bow to him and Naomasa and they watched as he strode to the bullpen to help organise the paperwork needed for the families.
Toshinori turned back to the detective. “You said you found nothing on young Aizawa. What did you find then?”
“I found the files on his parents,” he said. “The father, Aizawa Haruka, had a couple drunken disorderlies as well as possession charges. He died of an overdose five years ago.”
“And the mother?”
“Aizawa Rin. Also has possession charges and quite a few instances of aggravated assault. It seems after her husband died, they picked up in frequency. There’s enough reports on file to suggest that she was in the drunk tank a few times a month. But that’s not all.”
Toshinori waited. He knew the detective was trying to prepare him and his mind began conjuring up the worst. “Tell me.”
Naomasa looked away before refocusing on him with a resigned look. “There are a few complaints from neighbours and one or two from other parents at his school. They reported suspicions of child abuse.”
Toshinori crossed his arms and gritted his teeth.
“Neighbours reported shouting, sounds of smashing glass and impacts on walls,” the detective continued. “Aizawa was rarely seen outside unless he was going to school, which he always walked to alone. The parents’ reports stated that they often saw him covered in bruises, with ill-fitting clothing and that he was incredibly reclusive. Though they seem to be a mixed bag; some of the reports were made out of concern for the boy, others made it seem like they wanted him to be arrested himself.”
Toshinori felt his teeth creak. How could anyone see a boy be repeatedly hurt and treat him as nothing more than an eyesore? “And Aizawa Rin was never investigated?”
“Child services went around a few times,” Naomasa confirmed, “but she always told them that Aizawa was a violent boy; that most of the shouting and breaking things came from him. She said he would constantly get into fights in and after school and that was why he was always covered in bruises. Their address is in a pretty rough area, there’s a lot of gang and criminal activity and not much of a police presence. It wouldn’t be difficult to spin a story about a widowed mother struggling with an aggressive son to apathetic officers.”
“Will you be able to do anything about her?” Toshinori asked.
“Tonight? No. But after all this? Aizawa is twelve years old. Looking at him, it’s obvious he has gone through repetitive malnutrition; he is undersized and underweight, though some of that may be attributed to his time in captivity. He was abducted without it being reported, which is negligence in the best case scenario, and in the worst...”
Toshinori froze. “You think she gave him to them.” It wasn’t a question.
Naomasa sighed. “That blindfold is too sophisticated to have been made just to traffic him easier. There are a dozen simpler, cheaper ways to blindfold someone. Plus, the scarring on his face... that blindfold has been used on him before. Repeatedly.”
Toshinori was shaking. The numbness from before had been replaced by a white-hot rage. He could hardly breathe through it. And underneath that was a great well of despair. How could that poor boy have gone through so much in his young life? To have suffered so much... no wonder the boy was terrified of everyone that came near him. What reassurance was the Symbol of Peace when the one person in the world that was supposed to care for him had betrayed him?
Toshinori took a deep breath and tried to settle himself; giving into his anger now would solve nothing. “What are we going to do with him? We can’t send him back there, I refuse to.”
Naomasa held up his hands. “I agree with you. I would suggest he stay at the station, but I can tell you from experience that the cots in the break room aren’t that comfortable. And after everything he’s gone through... I think he needs somewhere he can relax a bit. Maybe feel something close to safe.”
Toshinori thought it over. His first thought was Officer Sansa; he had been the first one to get Aizawa to speak after all. But then he remembered that Aizawa had gotten uncomfortable after being alone with him too long.
He knew Naomasa wouldn’t be able to take him; though the heroes had taken over the bulk of the raid, his work was only just beginning. Registering every criminal that had been arrested, questioning them all, trying to get statements out of the children when their parents would want nothing more than to take them home. Not to mention the veritable mountain of paperwork and reports he would have to tend to. No, he didn’t expect his friend would have any time to watch over a traumatised pre-teen.
He tried to think of anyone he would trust to take the boy, then boiled that list down by trying to think who Aizawa would trust enough to take him in the first place. Then he realised he was being foolish. There was no one in Japan that he would trust Aizawa to, not when the boy was so scared but still tried to be strong when he asked. He couldn’t be another person that the boy looked to just to be cast aside. Truly, the decision had been made the second Naomasa had pulled him out of his office.
Toshinori straightened. “I will take him,” he declared. “My apartment is secure, I will ensure he is safe there.”
Something danced in Naomasa’s eyes, fondness and pride as he acknowledged his pledge with a nod. “You better go inform Aizawa then. I think we’ve kept him waiting long enough.”
Toshinori clasped the detective’s shoulder. “I think you’re quite right, my friend.” He turned on his heel and walked the few steps back to Naomasa’s office, the detective going the opposite way to begin booking the criminals. He knocked on the slightly ajar door before stepping through.
“Young Aizawa, I have some news for you!” he said as he shut the door. He turned to face the room and couldn’t fight the sharp intake of breath that nearly had him choking.
Aizawa was hanging halfway out the window.
The boy had used the name placard from Naomasa’s desk as a fulcrum to wedge open the window and was trying to shimmy through. He was small enough that he had managed to push his upper body through the small gap and was trying to pull the rest of himself out. Toshinori felt fear grip him as he lunged forward before bringing himself to a halt. He couldn’t just grab Aizawa, especially not now as he hung precariously above a two-story drop.
“Young Aizawa, would you please let me bring you back inside?” he begged. “This is incredibly dangerous and I am worried for you.”
Aizawa brought his head up to look through the window and activated his quirk. He was again cut off from One For All but he could barely bring himself to care as he watched the boy shift in the wind. Aizawa saw how close he had come and wiggled further out.
“Don’t touch me,” Aizawa snarled, his voice barely raised enough to reach him through the glass.
Toshinori held up his hands and took a step back. “Alright, I won’t touch you,” he promised, “but please, would you come back inside?”
“Why should I?” the boy shot back. “Just so you can take me back there?”
Toshinori was confused until his mind flashed back to the door. When Sansa had left, he had forgotten to shut it all the way, which meant Aizawa must have heard them speak about his family. If he had heard them and decided to flee instead of continuing to eavesdrop...
“Young Aizawa, please listen to me,” he implored. “I have no intention of taking you back to your mother. The plan I had just made with Detective Tsukauchi involved bringing you to rest at my apartment.”
He saw the boy falter but he didn’t drop his quirk. “You’re lying.”
“I am not,” he swore. He wracked his brain for something, some way he could rebuild the trust they had lost. He could barely string a thought together as he watched Aizawa’s clothes shift in the breeze. He couldn’t do anything to force Aizawa, he had to choose of his own volition to come back inside.
He floundered for a moment before he came up with something. He wasted no time and dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the hardwood floor. He felt One For All buzz under his skin again and figured Aizawa must have been surprised enough to let his quirk go.
“Young Aizawa,” he began, “I am truly sorry for startling you. Causing you any amount of stress or fear is the last thing I want. I swear on my honour as a hero, if you will let me, the only place I will take you tonight is my apartment.”
He kept his head down, not daring to move as he waited for Aizawa to do something; to speak or continue his escape attempt. As the seconds dragged on, it became painful to keep his head locked in place but he refused to give up when he had gotten Aizawa to pause.
He finally heard clothes shifting and he almost sagged in relief when he realised the sound was moving towards him rather than further out. He waited until he heard his shoes settle on the ground before raising himself onto his knees.
Aizawa stood before him, staring at him with pure disbelief. That disbelief became tinged with frustration before he shook his head. “Why?”
Toshinori knew he had to be careful. “Why what?”
The boy’s hands clenched at his sides. “Why aren’t you angry with me?”
Toshinori blinked. “I have no reason to be angry with you, you have done nothing wrong,” he told him.
That seemed to be, if not the wrong answer, then not the one Aizawa wanted. “I erased your quirk,” he growled. “Twice. You were trying to help and I erased it and now you’re not making me go home, you’re the Number One Hero so why aren’t you mad?”
“Oh, my boy,” he breathed. “You were frightened. You have been put through so much, using your quirk was an instinctual reaction. I would never blame or punish you for that.”
Aizawa looked like he had been punched, the disbelief back on his face before he hung his head. His fists kept clenching and releasing as he began to shake. Toshinori refused to push and looked respectfully away.
His eyes caught on the boy’s waist. He had tied the blanket around himself to take with him. That let Toshinori know there was hope for him to regain Aizawa’s trust. He wouldn’t want to take it with him if he hated him completely.
He heard Aizawa take a steadying breath, so he looked back up. The boy’s face was blank. Toshinori slowly got to his feet and when Aizawa didn’t shy away he decided to ask, “Would you be alright with staying at my apartment, young Aizawa?”
The boy studied him, looking for any kind of deception. Toshinori felt optimistic, knowing there wasn’t any for him to find.
Aizawa nodded.
As Toshinori unlocked his front door, he decided the first order of business would be finding something for the both of them to eat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had anything other than break room tea that Naomasa prepared for him. He had no idea how Aizawa had been treated, but he could clearly see how skinny he was.
The boy had untied the blanket and wrapped it around himself again. Now that there was no one else around him, Aizawa had begun to keep his distance from Toshinori. Nothing like what he had done with Naomasa, just keeping a few metres away. He looked relaxed enough for Toshinori to feel comfortable leaving him alone to check out the apartment while he changed out of his hero costume.
Not that there was much for him to look at. He’d bought the apartment pre-furnished and the whole place screamed “showroom”. The only personal touches in the open-plan room were a couple photos and his framed provisional licence on a bookshelf.
Toshinori walked with heavy steps back into the room. He respected Aizawa’s desire for space and tilted his head, inviting him to follow him into the kitchen. He knew better than to try the fridge. The only things in there were pre-made protein shakes, sauces and a very sad-looking avocado, so he went straight to the pantry. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much better. Protein powders and energy supplements took up the bottom half of the cupboard, with rice and instant ramen dotting the rest of the shelves.
Why do I still live like a college student? he wondered.
“I don’t have much in the way of food, I’m afraid. I’m not here all that often. I’m something of a workaholic, I suppose,” he chuckled. He looked at Aizawa standing at the boundary of the kitchen and dining room. He had adjusted the blanket to wrap around his head, but he could see curious and hungry eyes darting from Toshinori to the pantry. His hands dropped from the doors and he took a couple steps to the side. “Why don’t you have a look? See if anything strikes your fancy.”
Aizawa slowly inched forward. Smiling encouragingly, Toshinori took a few more steps back; he didn’t want to crowd the boy. He stopped just shy of the doors and looked at the shelves. After a few minutes with no response, Toshinori was about to admit defeat and suggest take out, when a small, hesitant hand reached in and pulled out one of his energy jelly packets.
“Ah, a fine choice, my boy!” he commended. “Those are quite good for you, you know. I see you chose the orange flavour! I’m quite fond of the grape ones myself!” He watched as Aizawa went back to his spot at the edge of the kitchen and opened the top. He took a small sip and Toshinori saw the way his eyes widened and took a larger mouthful.
Success!
He reached in and grabbed another orange pack and a grape one for himself. He skirted around Aizawa and led him into the living room. He settled against one side of the couch and gestured for him to sit on the other side.
“Do you ever watch pre-quirk era movies, young Aizawa?”
The boy shook his head as he carefully sat himself in the corner of the couch. He shot Toshinori a look out of the corner of his eye and brought his knees up to his chest. He seemed to wait for a reprimand and when it didn’t come, he wrapped the blanket around them so all Toshinori could see was his little, round face still sucking on the jelly pack. He placed the other orange pouch next to Aizawa and pushed it a little towards him so he knew it was his to take.
“Perhaps you could indulge me and watch one of my favourites then?” Aizawa shrugged so he turned on the large TV. He popped open his own jelly packet and began drinking as he navigated the menu until he found his collection of animated American pre-quirk movies.
Toshinori liked how simple they were; the imperfect lines and scratchy shading of hand-drawn animation, the simple black-and-white morality that he wished was more common in his world. The stakes weren’t about saving the world from an overbearing evil, sometimes there were as personal as a mother cat and her three kittens trying to make their way back home.
He was desperate to make Aizawa feel comfortable and welcomed, and he wasn’t above leveraging the one soft spot he knew the boy had. When Toshinori saw the way his indifference faded into quiet joy as he watched the kittens play piano, he knew he had made the right choice.
He could tell the boy was struggling against the pull of sleep. Only a sliver of his eyes were visible and his head kept nodding to the side before he caught himself and it snapped back up. His exhaustion had the added effect of removing the last vestiges of his fear; he was completely relaxed into the cushions. Toshinori couldn’t lie; watching Aizawa sleepily bop his head to ‘Everybody Wants to Be A Cat’ as he sucked on the second jelly pouch was one of the most adorable things he had ever seen.
He decided against urging the boy to go to bed. Seeing how content he was, he was loathe to put an end to it and he had no doubt that Aizawa’s night would be filled with nightmares and fear. If he could postpone it for just a little while longer, he would do whatever he had to.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the colours of the TV flash over Aizawa’s face. There was the tiniest smile just starting to emerge. If there was even a small chance that some of this happiness would follow him into his dreams, then Toshinori would watch every cat movie ever made with him.