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She was scared; he was scared too. He was always scared, but usually, it was of his father, the man who was always shouting or drinking or hitting. He screamed and shouted at them all, but he only ever hit Tenko. No one ever stopped him; they left him alone with a monster. Usually, he was scared of his father, but as his closest companion slipped through his hands, turning to blood and dust, he feared himself.
Hana didn’t see what Tenko had done, but she saw his hands, arms, and lap coated in the blood of his puppy, and she cried. She was scared, but didn’t she see he was scared too? Where was his sister when he was always scared? Where was his mother, his grandparents? Why did they never comfort him?
He doesn’t understand, doesn’t connect the dots; he’s only 6, and he’s supposed to be quirkless. He reaches out for her, touching her solid back for only a moment before it crumbles beneath his fingertips. She screams in agony as the affliction spreads, leaving nothing but dust, blood, and the furthest points from where his hand touched. Her eyes stare at him, wide and terrified; her mouth is forever open, screaming in terror, but her head isn’t connected to anything anymore.
Everyone rushes out when Hana is hurt dead, but not for Tenko, never for Tenko. His mother disappears under his grasp too, phasing right through him, leaving a shower of blood to wash over him. The blood was everywhere now, on his hands, soaking his shoes, coating his mouth. There was so much blood.
His father rushes out, and for the first time ever he is afraid, afraid of Tenko. Tenko was scared and confused, but when he put his hand on his father and the man fell apart, he felt so powerful. Nobody ever saved Tenko, but now he made sure nobody would ever hurt him again.
The blood has long since dried, and the powerful feeling he’d felt standing over his father as the tables turned and the man cried for mercy had long since faded, being replaced by that same crippling fear he knew so well. Tenko was so afraid, and just like always, no one was there to help him.
It had been hours, maybe days; he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be keeping track of time since the accident. In that time he’d wandered the streets covered in so much red. Most people stepped around him, too scared to be close, and the ones who ‘cared’ smiled and told him, “A hero will help you soon.” He really needed a hero right about now, but he was so tired of wandering aimlessly only for no one to care, so he finds a quiet underpass where he can’t hurt anyone and no one can hurt him, and he waits for something he doesn’t yet know.
He loses time faster in the dark underpass, zoning in and out of the present with not enough stimulation to keep him in the now. He knows that when he entered the place, the sun had still been in the sky, although it may have been low; he can’t remember, but when there's a shuffling followed by bright red shoes just like Tenko's, only bigger, that come into his line of sight, they are only illuminated by the flickering street lamps nearby. The shoes stop right in front of him.
"Hey," a soft voice calls to him, "are you lost?" The person kneels down, and Tenko finally looks up with tired eyes to see them. Nobody's even knelt down to his level before. Suddenly, the boy-although he is much older than Tenko-gasps and falls back. For a split second, Tenko had seen a kind smile on the boy's face, but now it's been replaced with wide, terrified eyes. "You... you're just a kid. Of course, you're just a kid," he mumbles.
Tenko doesn't know what is happening, but this boy has already treated him with so much kindness he's not used to, so he decides to do something he hasn't tried in years, he meets them halfway. "I'm scared," he admits quietly.
The boy stares at him for a minute with so many emotions swirling in his eyes that Tenko can't even pick out what they are. Then a tear streams down his face, and he gives another smile, not as big as the first but still real. Tenko can tell. "That's okay," he promises, "everyone gets scared sometimes. Even heroes like me."
"You're a hero?" Tenko asks, slightly awed because no matter how many times his father tries to beat it out of him, Tenko still loved heroes, hoped to be one, too.
"Yes, you can call me Deku. What is your name?" Deku asks.
"Tenko," he answers, "Just Tenko."
"Well, can I help you up, Tenko?"
Tenko shakes his head furiously. “No, I hurt everyone I touch," he croaks.
“Then we’ll just have to be careful, won’t we?” Deku says and gently holds Tenko's wrists and pulls him up. He is still kneeling, so now he and the hero stand eye to eye. “Would you look at that, I’m just fine.”
“How did you do that?” Tenko breathes in awe.
“Your quirk must activate with a five-point touch, so as long as you don't touch me with all five of your fingers, we'll both be okay," he answers. Then, after a moment, the hero quietly gasps. "Here, I have something that might help." He rifles around in a pouch on his belt before pulling out something colorful. "Just give me your pinky fingers," he orders, and Tenko does as he's told. The hero handles his hands so carefully, like Tenko is something precious, as he unpacks two band-aids and wraps one around each of Tenko's offered fingers. When he's done, the hero smiles. "There, now we'll both be safe."
The hero stands up and offers a gloved hand out to Tenko's smaller but life-taking hand. He doesn't take the hand, though, because he still doesn't understand. "Why are you helping me?"
Deku's face goes blank for a moment, but once again that kind smile takes over, a smile just for Tenko. "You looked like you needed saving."
Tenko takes his hand, and he never looks back.