Chapter Text
Shota was just finishing up his patrol route, moving swiftly from rooftop to rooftop. He was just about to call it a night when he noticed an outline of a person on the edge of the building a little farther from him. Without hesitation, Shota quickly and quietly made his way towards the figure. The figure sitting on the edge was a boy who looked to be about ten. He stayed hidden trying to assess the situation. The boy was sobbing quietly. Not wasting any time, Shota decided to reveal himself but also have his capture scarf ready in case the boy jumped.
The second Shota stepped out of the hiding spot, the noise alerted the boy to his presence. Looking at Shota, an array of emotions went through the boy, who seemed to try and comprehend who he was seeing. In that split second the boy seemed to lose his balance, and without hesitation, Shota used his capture scarf to grab the boy and pull him towards himself. Once the boy was in Shota’s space he started to cry, muttering apologies to the point that it just became incoherent muttering.
Shota felt so out of his element and he wished his husband was here to take over the comforting part. The best thing he could do was awkwardly pat the boy's head as he cried into his chest. Once the crying subsided to just sniffling, the boy pulled away from Shota.
“I'm sorry, Eraserhead,” he apologized, using Shota's hero name, which surprised him since not many people knew of him as he was an underground hero. Shota was about to reassure him when the boy looked him in the eyes and asked.
“Umm, can a quirkless person still be a hero?”
“A quirk is a tool to be used just like any support gear. So as it may be more difficult for someone who is quirkless, with hard work and determination it's possible," Shota said, earning a huge grin from the boy.
“Now then, you want to tell me why you were up here?” He asked, causing the boy to turn away uncomfortably.
“Well, you see I was…” the boy started to say, but whatever lie he was about to come up with died in his throat. “The truth is that I’m quirkless and…”
He broke off as tears started to form in his eyes.
“Hey now. There is nothing wrong with being quirkless," Shota tried to reassure the kid.
“That's not what everyone else says,” the boy replied as some of the tears started to fall.
Shota didn’t need to ask to know what the kid had gone through, but he knew the stats regarding quirkless people. Especially kids.
"Alright. How about I take you home. I'm pretty sure your mom is worried about you."
"No, she's not," he said bitterly, and the flow of tears increased.
"Because I'm quirkless. She didn't want me," replied the boy, which made Shota's heart hurt. It meant that the kid was in the system, which, in Shota's opinion, was much worse. What made matters worse was that it looked like he was starting to hyperventilate.
"Kid, I need you to breathe!" Shota exclaimed, teeth gritted and brow furrowed in worry, but the kid seemed to not respond to anything being said.
Shota's efforts to get the boy to breathe ended up being futile as the boy ended up losing consciousness, causing Shota to have to catch the boy before he fell to the ground. Holding him securely, he could feel how skinny the boy really was.
Instinctively, Shota jumped into action in locating the nearest hospital in the area, quickly taking the boy there. He reached the hospital in no time, alerting the staff of the unconscious boy in his arms. A nurse had him put him on a stretcher before she took the boy to be examined.
After the boy got taken away, Shota was required to stay until a guardian had shown up. Which gave him time to fill out the reports he needed to fill out for these types of situations. One report would go to the hospital and the other one was for his agency. Before he knew it, an hour had passed.
Once it reached the two-hour mark and no one had come yet, caused his frustration to rise. Without thinking, he walked up to the receptionists and asked, "Do you know when the boy's guardians will be showing up? It's already been two hours."
"It would seem that the boy's current foster parents don't want anything to do with him. I did contact his caseworker but she hasn't responded yet."
"You have got to be kidding me," he groaned in frustration.
"I'm sorry, sir."
Shota took a deep breath, knowing that it wasn't the receptionist's fault. He ended up getting an idea but knew he had to double-check with his husband. In that second, he realized that he's about three hours late getting home and he didn't call his husband to let him know he was going to be late. Hizashi was going to kill him, especially since the blond didn't ask for much.
With a sigh, he informed the receptionist that he would be stepping out for a second to make a phone call. Slipping out the door, the cool air outside was refreshing compared to the stuffy waiting room, however, it didn't erase the dread of having to make the call. He dialed his husband's number from memory. After two rings, Hizashi answered.
"You better have a good reason to be calling now."