Chapter Text
Police Stations always looked the same. The maze of grey walls, the swarm of blue uniforms wandering and shuffling about the halls or the water coolers sitting surrounded by greenery, that should have been called brownery, that was just barely holding on to life. Usually due to the odd worker dumping their cups onto the poor things.
That's what Aizawa Shouta did when visiting a police station, the plants were the only way he could tell them apart. The stations he often dragged criminals to always looked more alive then the others, a fact that most were yet to pick up on.
Shouta found, for the most part, that police stations would inspire nothing special. Just another punk teen or drunken gang member who thought Eraserhead was easy pickings to drop off and a handful of thirsty plants to water.
This time felt different.
It felt like something, someone, was urging him forward, pushing Shouta towards something that he didn’t understand. The Presence was odd, not malicious but it felt…
Comforting.
Brushing away the strange thought and feeling Shouta paid attention to his surroundings and the man he was following. Detective Noamasa Tsukauchi led Shouta down yet another grey hall in the precinct, a higher level of security based on the heavy metal doors that Tsukauchi had scanned them through and the maze of corridors that he would need to help to get out of. Shouta felt on edge.
“We are only bringing you in as a precaution,” The detective had explained that morning, offering a coffee while he spoke. “He was violent when we found him, but citizens said that he was confused, speaking a language that no one could recognise. On top of that we have no idea what his quirk is, that's where you come in.”
Shouta had agreed easily, he had nothing on that day being that it was a saturday and since UA was on a break with Shouta's new first year students starting in two months, he was bored to say the least.
It also helped that shouta was curious about a boy that took down five police officers and two heroes without a known quirk before being knocked unconscious. Aizawa was estimating a strength quirk or a weak cancellation quirk, based on the video he had been shown from a nearby security camera.
As Aizawa drank from his mocha a boy with dark skin and wide eyes wandered into frame. He seemed confused, head turning at a rate that would stress a chiropractor and hands twitching for something that wasn’t there. Then he clenched his fists and walked towards a man in a business suit, Sawamura Koshi was the name listed in the report, when the boy began talking Sawamura put his hands up and said something along the lines of ‘I can’t understand you, can you speak japanese?’ at least that's what the report said.
It went downhill very quickly from there. The boy had freaked out at the man's words and started screaming, pulling his mouth back in a hiss, he had walked back with his hands balled into fists, straight into what was later identified as a petty gang member, Takashi Toaka, who had been arrested for street fighting before. This very bad stroke of luck had the boy taking a fist to the back of his head and flew forward, catching himself on his hands. He flipped over and kicked Takashi in the knee, Takashi dropped and the boy jumped on top of him, hissing in his face and raining punches across his face. Then the police decided to turn up Shouta had thought with a roll of his eyes as the boy retaliated with more punches and kicks to the hands that pulled him off the other man.
Three of Tsukauchi's officers went down along with two from a closer station before heroes Jack Hammer, Street Sweep and Rock Lock turned up. The two interns had also hit the ground unconscious before Rock Lock used his quirk to keep the boy in place for long enough that he could be knocked unconscious as well.
The few things that knew about the boy, his strength, prowess to fighting, and the startling fact that quirks seemingly faltered around him made the boy very dangerous.
They didn’t know the boys name or age, though they knew he was foreign and estimated his age at 15. His dark skin and distinctly western features marked the boy as American, though the language witnesses heard him screaming was yet to be identified and wide eyes, height, and hints of baby fat left in his cheeks gave away his age.
The police, Tsukauchi had told him, had expected the solution to be fairly simple, contact the American government and ask if they had any missing children that matched the boy's photo and send him on the next plane across the ocean. The spanner in the works was that the Americans had no such missing persons, although they promised to contact them if any new missing reports were made. Now everyone was rushing around to try and find the boy's family before news could take off any further about the situation but with such little information knowing where to look was limited to anywhere in the whole world.
But the boy had woken up that morning, and Tsukauchi had wanted to help the boy get home as soon as possible.
“Over here Eraser.” called the detective, gesturing to a seat on one side of the interrogation table. Shouta sat and Tsukauchi called for the officers to bring the boy in, opening a folder in front of him and pulling out a blunt pencil.
Shouta was hoping for a name soon because calling him ‘the boy’ in his head was starting to sound odd.
The boy was quickly brought in. Shouta thought he looked quite normal for a boy who took out so many officials, no obvious strength quirk and while the boy looked strong he was slim and his height would not have stood out amongst Americans, but in Japan he was quite tall for a teenager. His face was covered with a nasty bruise on one cheek that had scabbed above sharp cheek bones that swept into thin eyebrows. He had a long thin nose and thin lips that fell apart along with his half lidded and drowsy eyes, courtesy of the quirk of the officer behind him. The only parts of the boy that looked odd to Shouta were pointy ears, very golden eyes, and strangely symmetrical freckles dotting the boy’s face, arms and hands.
Tsukauchi nodded to the officer, “You can release your quirk now, Yoshio. Eraserhead if you will.”
Shouta nodded, blinking once then opening his eyes and activating his quirk. Almost at once the boy sat up straight and thrashed in the handcuffs that attached him to the table
“Peseng lu oe! Kempe si nga!” He hissed at them, Shouta didn’t flinch.
Tsukauchi held up his hands, palms forward. “We don’t mean to hurt you, we want to help you, can you tell us your name?”
The boy pulled his lips back and actually hissed at the detective. “'upe lu nga san tawtute” The boy sat up straight and narrowed his eyes at them, “fyape tsun oe kame nga”
Tsukauchi gave an awkward laugh, “I’m sorry we can’t understand you, do you know English?”
“I know what you are saying” The boy said softly, arms settled and posture perfect. “What I don’t understand is how, have you done something to me?”
If it weren’t for hours of training, Shouta would have blinked, they boy was acting completely differently then mere seconds ago.
The tone of Tsukauchi's voice stayed the same as they continued, the detective had also noticed the strange demeanor change as well then. “My Name is Detective Tsukauchi and this is pro hero, Erasure Head right now we are at a police station in Tokyo, Japan and we need you to answer a few questions for us to help you, ok?”
The boy looked confused. “You’ll… help me?”
“Of course, as much as we can.” Tsukauchi answered in a warm tone. “And we will answer any questions you have, if you could just answer ours first.”
The confused demeanor of the boy shifted almost immediately into a closed one and distrust coloured his eyes. “I don’t really have another choice, do I tawtute.”
Shouta sighed and spoke up for the first time, “Of course there are other ways we can do this, questions are just quicker and will let us help you sooner.”
This was not the right answer, the boy let his shoulders hit his ears and bowed his head, looking at them through slitted pupils with a small snarl on his face. “Fine.”
“Perfect,” said Tsukauchi, “We will start with the basics, your age, name, and where you are from.”
“Shouldn’t you know this already, you tawtute have followed me since I was born!”
Shouta was getting sick of the dodging. “Well we don’t, and we can’t find any record of you in our systems and we can’t help until we know who you are.”
That answer seemed to go slightly better than the last, only in the sense that nothing got obviously worse.
“If you insist I am 15 years old, my name is Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and I am from the Omiticaya forest on the moon Pandora.”
Shouta did blink this time.
Well, shit.