Prequel

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There was a girl staring at Aizawa.

"Hello," she said, not appearing worried by the way his head whipped around, hair jumping to attention and eyes flashing red behind his goggles. Or the fact he'd just climbed through a second story window into what appeared to be her bedroom. Shit.

She was tiny, he would have guessed a toddler except for the lucidity of her gaze. Aizawa had never seen a child so skinny and unkempt. Brown hair sprang from her scalp to be quickly sucked into extensive matting, her cheeks were hollowed and the thickness of her wrists was more birdlike than human. The poor thing was dressed in a pair of manky hello kitty pyjamas. Honestly, the fact that her sleepwear had cats on it seemed to be the only upside to her situation. Huddled against a wall cradling a plant in a pot, it almost looked like she'd been hiding from something before he even arrived. 

Anyway, it didn't immediately seem that she was a threat, though it would be irrational of him to make that assumption completely. The police hadn't mentioned anything about a child, which probably meant she hadn't left the house in months. Perhaps she was being kept as a hostage, or had a powerful quirk and was being groomed by the cartel as a villain. Either way, this was definitely no place for a kid.

"Are you a client?" She asked, her voice reedy and a bit uneasy.

He replied with a stunningly heroic "Uhh.."

Aizawa was fresh out of UA. Dealing with dirty children in hello kitty pyjamas while busting drug rings hadn't been covered in any courses.

"Because if you're a client, Mamma wants you downstairs."

Ah, so she was one of the drug dealer's children. The girl gently placed the pot on the floor beside her. Pointing towards the door, her hand glanced over piles of strewn dirty clothing and a few broken beer bottles. With her hand now exposed, Aizawa could make out cigarette burns in her palms and a wave of anger surged through him. She was being abused. Guilt replaced some of the anger when he realised the police had been urging him to clear out this place for over a week and he'd only gotten time for it tonight. How long had she been suffering? Her entire life?

"No, I'm not a client. I'm here to help you," he murmured, releasing his quirk with a blink and silently moving to check that the door to her bedroom was locked. It was. He had to step over various piles of filth to get there. A thin straw mat substituted as a bed in the middle of the area. Listening carefully, he could hear loud music downstairs and the sound of goddamn awful singing, so it was unlikely they'd be overheard. Aizawa turned back to her and continued in a soft but insistent tone, kneeling down and removing his goggles so she could see his eyes.

"I'm a pro hero and I'm going to make sure you don't have to feel scared anymore, okay? But for now, can you tell me anything about your mother, or the people she works with?"

Eraser knew that it was protocol to evacuate the girl from the premises immediately before dealing with the villains, however, there was a chance someone would notice them if he had to climb back down the side of the building carrying her. It was an irrational option to choose in this situation. Might as well try to get extra information for the mission on top of giving pyjama bottoms some comfort, before quickly dispatching those lowlifes downstairs. The girl's eyes widened and Aizawa could suddenly discern even surrounded by grime they shone a cobalt blue.

"A hero?" She gasped, shrinking away in what he thought could either be awe or horror. It was difficult to tell. Being the child of a villain could make her sympathies fall either way. To be honest, he'd gone a bit too far asking about the cartel. Hello Kitty was extremely young after all, could barely be older than 4 or 5 years old judging from her size. However, she proved him wrong immediately, gathering herself and launching into a highly detailed analysis of the drug cartel which checked out with all of the information Aizawa had and more. He blinked in amazement. Who was this kid?!

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