Chapter Text
Aidan Rain, who had always dreamed of being a hero. One like Star and Stripe and All Might, a hero that would ease people’s hearts with just their presence and smile alone.
Aidan Rain, who was declared quirkless, useless, weak, irrelevant at the ripe age of four.
Aidan Rain, abandoned by her parents in a strange country with a strange language because it was easier to claim she had been kidnapped — killed even — than it was to just accept reality.
Aidan, who had been tossed into a system so against her existence she had to teach herself to fight and to bare her teeth at everyone that looked at her funny because if she didn’t they would see how scared and alone she really was and they would tear her apart with fire and claws and harsh words meant to kill.
Aidan, who still wanted to be a hero in spite of it all. Who stole just enough to get her own computer and take online courses because a hero needed to be educated, and teachers in a recorded lecture couldn’t hurt her like they could in real life, couldn’t hold her back when she excelled and blame her for her peers' faults.
Aidan, who had decided that she wouldn’t be a hero like All Might. No, she would be a hero in the shadows, one whose name struck fear into the hearts of villains and left them trembling in her wake and thinking they were screwed. No, she wouldn’t — couldn’t — be like All Might because All Might was an official hero who stood in the limelight and she would become a hero hidden in the night. Albeit a very unofficial one.
Aidan, who was currently running from a very pissed looking pro hero Eraserhead who had been covered in her very own signature, impossible to remove, glittery capture foam.
He cursed as she jumped over yet another ledge, taking a sharp turn as she went and just barely avoiding the white capture scarf that snapped at the empty air, tucking herself into a roll and disappearing behind a chimney. Only to reappear facing him with her gun aimed and already letting loose another pellet filled with the abomination that she called capture foam.
Aizawa Shouta tried to dodge, he really did, but he was feeling sluggish from the early morning shenanigans of his partner and his cats, the lack of nap time, and from having fought multiple villains earlier in the night. The fact that his espresso had been discarded on the ground somewhere before his shift even started didn’t really help.
His joints stiff and weighed down by the foam only another addition to that fact and a testament to her damned good aim (not that he would ever say that out loud and to her face).
So it was only logical that he would fail to dodge the pellet as it exploded and cemented his foot to the ground.
He looked up, pulling out his knife to dislodge himslef, only to find her already halfway across the next roof.
“Stop running, Problem Child!” Because, with his luck, of course this vigilante he was tasked with keeping an eye on and getting off the streets would be a child who looked to be no older than his would be first year hero students.
“Make me!”
The hint of laughter in her voice soured his mood further as he watched her jump from roof to roof and finally disappear into an alley, hopefully heading home for the rest of the night.
If she even had a home, he thought to himself.
Shouta wasn’t blind. Despite her ability to take down armed thugs nearly thrice her size, he saw the way her clothes hung off her skinny frame. He caught glimpses of sharp shoulders, bony fingers and even bonier wrists during their occasional run ins. Sunken eyes and sharp cheekbones that spoke of a scarce diet and dark bags underneath her eyes, dark enough to rival even his own.
And rumors of her first physical appearance as a vigilante being in ratty and worn and dirty clothes. Not to mention her first official appearance being over the Hero Comms where she helped take down one of the biggest drug rings in Japan.
But that had changed over the course of the year that she had been a vigilante. Her new and unique support gear looked to be top of the line and the way she had begun to fill out her clothes hadn’t escaped him either, her cheeks still sharp but not as sharp as they used to be and her arms not as bony either.
So it was safe to say Shouta was baffled by the enigma that is Athena. Because how could a child afford the quality equipment it would surely require one to hack into government issued equipment, but not have enough to properly clothe and feed herself.
Shouta thought, he suspected, but he didn’t know for certain. He would never know for certain until Athena herself said something.
But she wouldn’t.
If she was as stubborn in her civilian life as she was as a vigilante it would take a fatal injury and being on death's door for her to open her mouth and even then Shouta wasn’t sure if she’d talk.
Sigh.
Only three hours into his shift and he was already ready to go home and collapse onto his bed. His sleeping bag would have to do for now, but that was only if he could get this shit posing as capture foam off him which he knew wouldn’t be possible unless he headed down to the only station with the formula to get rid of the stuff. The only station that was a half hour run across the cityscape from his current position.
Shouta let out another sigh and dejectedly got to work chipping his foot out of the hardened foam.