Chapter Text
“No… Yes.”
9-1 Minamicho, Suruga Ward, Musutafu. In a storage room of a 7-Eleven. Takeshi’s surrounded by unpacked boxes and plastic carts of instant noodles and soft drinks, but he’ll get to that later tomorrow. In his hand, he’s reading the headline ‘Quirked Species Discovered’, something about glowing jellyfish that also flies and floats in the air. A recent discovery for the news, and paper goes on about giving the guy who found them a reward.
‘A new step for the world of science, the next evolution of quirks,’ and all that dramatic hullabaloo.
If you ask him, why haven’t quirked animals become the norm yet? If it did for humans, why didn’t the animals? But he’s not a scientist. He’s a broke college student working part-time in a 7-Eleven, just trying to get by and not die from a villain attack.
“I’m fine, Nana… yeah, no trouble, still got my savings…”
The next page was the hero side of things. New hero Weather Girl made her debut, drug dealers were arrested, hero stopped a bank robbery, building collapsed from a villain-hero fight, escaped villain in Tokyo, and so on.
“Right… You don’t have to tell me twice… But I am old enough to drink,” he tells his Nana in deadpan.
[Crrrrsk.]
The shrilling noise from his phone made him flinch, “Aish! No, woman! I didn’t start going to clubs! …No, I’m not gambling either! My friends are fine!”
He rolls his eyes at Nana’s ‘concerns’, one of which involved his friends taking him to clubs with him ‘becoming an alcoholic and addicted to drugs’. Nothing like a low-budget B-movie about rebellious youth gone astray.
The more she talked the more nonsensical it got. It even got to where his ‘girlfriend’ (note: he does not have a girlfriend) was a secret villain and ‘got him accidentally joining a villain group, so then he had to quit university, change identity, cut all contact from his Nana and sisters, and waste away in the streets as he lives his new life of crime, wondering where it all went wrong’. Because of course he would.
He doesn’t interrupt her, however, as she continues her assumed stories of his life and future. All as ridiculous and far-fetched as the last, and suspiciously similar to the soap operas she likes to watch late at night.
Still listening with a raised brow, he put down the newspaper and made his way to take out the trash. Carrying a large trash bag, he walks through the back door and down the little steps into a dingy back alley, with only a single wall lamp to illuminate it. Below the lamp is an old dumpster, green and filthy, sitting against the worn back wall of the store. The same can be said about the alley itself. Cracked walls and pavements covered in grime and moldy filth.
Clangs.
He stutters in his step. Behind him was a couple of cans and bottles rolling on the ground. Rats, maybe. His shoulders tense up in caution, nevertheless. It also could be something else. He’s no stranger to them.
“Hey Nana? I’m going to have to call you back.” With that he shuts his phone with a single click, cutting her off mid-word. May he regret that later, his caution comes first.
Slowly, he turns his back away, but as he lifts the cover of the bin, he hears a strange sound.
Something like a jingle.
He scrunches his brow at the notion.
Odd.
He looks back again, his eyes combing through any nook and cranny of the dark alley he might have missed. Squinting his eyes, he again slowly turns away. He hunches slightly over, bringing about a hand from under. His palm was slightly aglow in warmth, quirk in ready. His quirk may be weak, but it was for sure useful not only in the dark but also for a quick flashbang distraction when in a bind.
He hears it again.
The jingle sounded like a giggle, or maybe a chuckle. It wasn’t at all unsettling. Quite the opposite.
And then it hit him.
He lets go of the air he hadn’t realized he was holding. The tension quickly rolled off his shoulders, he threw the heavy bag into the bin in one swing.
It’s a kid—a most definitely bored kid who is trying to pull a joke at him. The kid’s worse than his little sisters, and they’re as subtle as squawking ducks.
How should he go about this? He whistles into the cold air, putting both his hands into the side pockets of his apron while exaggeratingly rolling on his heels. Very loudly and very melodramatically, he calls out, “Well! That’s that for tonight! Better start heading hooome. Got a biiiiiiig exam coming tomorrow! I gotta go home and rest up!”
He peeks to find where the kid is hiding, but no dice.
“Hopefully, there isn’t anybody coming to try and scare me…” he continues, his tone gradually becoming softer.
Kid’s not subtle but is sure is good at hiding.
His foot twists behind the other and—
A thing of two pupilless yellow eyes appears, glowing behind a stone-like monstrous face. Arms above its head with its inky black digits curling in his face.
His heart jumped to his throat, Takeshi stumbled and trips behind himself. A loud banging sound was heard as his back slammed against the metal bin. He slides to the ground with a thud and winces at the pain.
Looking up, the being looms over him with its’ shadow. Yellow orbs peering through the darkness. And then—
It laughs.
A jolly. Hearty. Melodious laughter. A loud, hooting, belly laugh, as the kid —he guessed right— doubled over, slapping his knee in a mirthful melody.
Charming.
“Yeah-yeah, laugh it up, get it out of your system, why don’t cha…” he grumbles.
Tired, Takeshi doesn’t even bother to stand up, opting to shuffle himself into a more comfortable position; knee leg up, still leaning against the bin. His head tilts up as he coolly takes the kid in. If he were to describe the kid in one word and one word only, that one word would be ‘strange’. In two words, ‘very strange’.
The first that grabbed his attention was light. This kid was literally glowing like a nightlight. From the pure white of his hair to the warm glow shining under his skin. The stone face was instead a stone mask. Worn, cracked, and slanted, clearly missing a large piece. A jagged crack ran across its face, from the left eye down and to the right cheek. The kid wore a kind of cape, maroon with white fur, and on his back, he carried a staff.
Honk.
He hears a honk. A honk?
A small hand was held out to his face. Takeshi takes in the glow under the dark color of the kids’ skin, staring at it still. The hand shook in his face, bouncing lightly. It had a soft glow, gleaming almost a pale yellow. And the skin was smooth with not a single bump or blemish. It looked fake. As if it wasn’t a real hand.
Honk-honk?
Takeshi’s black eyes dart back up to the kid. The kid’s head tilted and his white locks swayed, staring at him with blank eyes. His hand still held out, waiting patiently. His own hand hovered slightly over the kids’, wrapping it around the little hand. It was so smooth and so very soft, comfortingly warm yet felt like a kind of soft clay.
The kid pulled with the very little strength he had, putting his back into it to the point his heels pushed the pavement. Takeshi grimaced a smile and pulled himself up. To his surprise, he finds himself taken aback by how light the kid is. The kid hung on his arm with his feet hanging a few inches above the ground, and yet...
“…Like I’m carrying a bag of grapes. Your quirk is you being really light or something?”
Heh. He made a pun.
The kid dropped from his arm and said nothing. Or at least, nothing he could understand.
Honk-honk, honk.
O…kay.
“Uh-huh, so what are you doing out here?” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck as his head darts around the block looking for one or two particularly worried adults. “It’s pretty —well— very late out right now… shouldn’t you be at home? Where are your parents?”
The kid lets out a string of pulsed calls.
Honk-honk-honk—honk-honk-honk-honk-honk.
Takeshi nods awkwardly. His lips pursed to a straight line. “Riiii—ght… Can you speak? …Normally?”
He got no answer. Instead, he stumbles back, as the strange, honking, masked child darted into his space.
The kid came up to his chest, standing on his toes, and laser-focused on his face. Takeshi was too stunned to speak. The kid stared intently, fixed, with piercing eyes. They narrowed ever so slightly as the kid edged further in whilst he edged back. And then the kid stopped and fell back to his heels. Again, making a string of echoing calls.
His sisters and Nana are strange, but this is getting stranger by the minute. Much awkward at that. He couldn’t tell if the mask was simply part of the kid’s quirk or not. It’s common for kids to dress up as their favorite heroes, but this costume doesn’t ring any bells. It does ring a different bell, and that bell says he should either try and find the kid’s guardians or call the police.
“Are you lost? Do you need help?” He tries again.
That did something. The kid went silent, which gave a tinge of worry. Just a tinge.
“Okay… I’ll just… We’ll call for help!” He made sure to sound cheerful, smiling at the kid.
Just as he was about to take out his phone, the kid started honking again. Much more aggressively. He finds that tinge of worry was misplaced.
Honk-honkhonk-honk-honk-honk-honkhonk-honk-honk—
“Ai—Stop, stop—” He waves his hand in front of the kid, “Enough, enough, I hear ya!”
The kid's honks went a little quieter. He ducks down to rustle through his cape behind his back. From under it, the kid pulls something out.
In the kids’ hands, was a single white lit candle.
And, apparently, the mask, the get-up, and the honks aren’t the weirdest thing yet.
The kid got down on one knee.
And held out the candle before him.
He was shocked. Confused. Bamboozled. Thrown for a loop. That tinge of worry is back, just not as a tinge anymore.
What is this? This child, proposing to him? With a candle? In a dingy back alleyway in the dead of night? What?
“Hey… look…kid?” He takes a breath, “This is… flattering and all, but… I…” He trails off. The kid’s eyes were looking at him in earnest. Candle still up and waiting to be accepted and— you know what? He’s jumping to conclusions. It’s just a candle. The kid is not proposing to him. That was him being dumb and overreacting.
“Thank you…” he decidedly says, taking the candle into his hand.
The kid doesn’t say anything, however. He stood up, but still he was just staring at him. Was the kid expecting something?
Turns out, he was. The kid honked in a way that sounded disappointed. His head hung down as he started to turn away.
Now hold on a second. The kid looks—ten. Glowing, honking ten-year-old kid that can’t(?) speak walking alone in the night. Ah, shoot. He’ll deal with closing the store later. He needs to take the kid home first.
“Wait a minute! Kid! Going out alone in the night, especially as a kid, not that good of an idea! How about I take you home? Accompany, that is. Not a creep, just a concerned adult. Or I can just take you to the police! No problem! I’ll even call them! Give them a heads up or we can just wait till they arrive!”
Can the kid even understand him? No way he’s going to leave him alone. If the kid gets kidnapped, his conscience would eat him up and he’ll blame himself for the rest of his life.
But just before he reached the kid, out from a corner. He sees another caped white-haired glowing child. This new kid guns straight toward them. Grabbing the other kid’s hand, and as quick as he came, flew past him.
He turns around and watches them fly away, becoming smaller and smaller until they whisk away into the void.
He stares at it. Still. Taking a moment. Process what happened. Until finally.
He dials a number.
“Excuse me? I’d like to report two possibly missing children?”