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Learning How To Heal

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Somewhere in a dark rundown warehouse in  Naruhata Japan, a group of 10 middle-aged men is sitting around an old, worn down, wooden table in an ill-lit room. One man, sitting in a faded red wingback chair and smoking a cheap cigar, was looking through a pile of papers and maps with a deep frown and mumbling to himself. The other men at the table were playing a version poker and generally lazing about.

The man smoking the cigar lets out a huff accompanied by a plume of noxious smoke, then sits back in his chair looking satisfied with himself. "This is our next target boys." He says with the rasp of lung tissue destroyed by years of smoking.

The other men perk up and put down their game, turning all attention to the map at the top of the stack of papers. "We pull off this heist, and we're all set for life." One man, skinny and covered in sickly grey scales, remarks.

"Exactly." Exalts the apparent boss of this ragtag group of criminals, shaking the ash off of the end of his cigar. "Here's the plan..."

Several miles away, in Roppongi, however, in the debriefing room of a certain pro hero sits a very different group of men and women. There is a rather large blond man with an odd antennae-like hairstyle and a somewhat devious grin, a tired-looking man in a baggy black suit and what appeared to be loose bandages with a shaggy black hairdo that looks as though he hasn't brushed it in several days, a well-groomed man dressed entirely in denim, a femme fatal in a dominatrix costume, and a few obvious policemen. At the front of the room stands a somewhat disheveled detective flipping through a slideshow presentation of the case which he was hoping to enlist these heroes in helping him with.

"While these particular villains don't seem to be after anything other than money, they aren't very particular about collateral damage. The department has taken to calling them the Ghost Gang, due to the fact that everything is quiet and normal, and nobody ever hears whats happened until it's already been done. We suspect one of their members has a quirk which allows them to stay completely anonymous until after the deed is already done, but unfortunately, due to the complete lack of witnesses, we still don't know anything concrete. The only thing we have so far is a possible next target. Our team has analyzed their pattern of past attacks and we've concluded that here is the next target." The detective gestured to a spot on the map that was now projected up on the wall and circled in red. "If we don't catch them here, a lot more people will die this time."

The heroes each studied the copy of the case file in front of them before finally, All Might boomed, "Well you don't have to ask me twice. What do you say Eraser?" He asked, thumping the tired-looking man on the back.

Eraser head let out an "Oomph" before saying "If one of their members does have a quirk capable of hiding them so well, you're going to need my quirk."

Eventually, everyone at the briefing had agreed and they started laying the groundworks of their ambush.

Several days later in Tokyo, in Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall, which was currently inhabited almost entirely by undercover police and our small band of Heroes.

The Hero named Eraser Head, or to those who knew him personally, Shota Aizawa, was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, assessing the area. They had disguised him, rather ironically, as a blind man, with one of the police forces K-9 officers, a friendly-looking chocolate Labrador Retriever named Buster, acting as his guide dog.

Around noon, something strange and deeply unsettling happened. Aizawa suddenly found himself, no longer in the courtyard of the mall, but in an empty dark room. Frowning to himself, he waited to see where this was going. It didn't take long. Soon the walls and floor were covered in creepy crawling bugs, and when he looked down at his hands he saw them covered in blood... It was like something out of a nightmare after watching too many horror movies. Having had enough, he closed his eyes and tried to focus, doing something he rarely had to do with his quirk. He felt out the unique signature of this quirk and tried to trace it to a physical location in relation to himself. When he found the source, his eyes shot open and he activated his quirk. He almost didn't believe his eyes.

There, sat down right by the front door, with the metal mesh door facing him, was a plastic dog carrier, barely big enough for Buster, let alone the girl he saw inside.

With the child's quirk deactivated, the rest of the heroes jumped into action, quickly and efficiently incapacitating the criminals. Eraser head wasn't needed for that part. His job was neutralizing the quirk that kept them hidden.

Slowly, he stood and approached the kennel, careful to keep his eyes on the girl. He walked right up to the kennel and knelt down in front of it to get a better look at her. "Jesus Christ..." He muttered under his breath when he could see her clearly. She was so thin and frail. He could clearly see her shoulder bones, collar bones, ribs, hip bones, and basically every other prominent bone sticking out under her paper-thin skin. Her long hair was matted, and so caked in mud and unidentified fluids, that there was no clear way to discern it's the original color. Her pale grey-blue eyes were dull and lifeless and sunken into her skull. Her belly was distended from lack of nutrition, and her skin was littered with bruises.

The girl was in such poor condition, that it was hard to place her age. Aizawa could barely stand to keep staring at her. It was hard to face all that brutal reality at once. In fact, he was relieved when the lock on the girl's cage was cut and she had a quirk dampening cuff placed on her wrist so he could finally look elsewhere for a moment.

With his eyes now freed, Aizawa took the opportunity to asses the real villains and was somewhat disappointed to see a group of 10, middle-aged men with average and below-average quirks. The bastards had obviously been taking advantage of the girl's quirk, for the most part, otherwise, such villains would never have earned the track record that these guys had. He shook his head in disgust.

Turning back to the girl, he found a young female officer leading her towards one of the squad cars. He tried to leave well enough alone. He really truly did. He wasn't sure why he cared, only that it was obvious that this kid had had the worst of life so far, and he was pretty sure that whatever the police had in store for her would be less than comfortable. Rolling his eyes skyward and letting loose an exasperated sigh, he approached the officer just as she was closing the despondent girl into the back seat of her cruiser, and asked, "What's going to happen with her."

The young officer answered him with, "Well first she needs to go to the hospital. We need to get those injuries checked out. That, and she's obviously malnourished. Then she'll need to be asked for her statement down at the station so we can determine how willing of a participant she was. I doubt they'll accuse her of actually wanting to help those assholes, but, you know how it is. Protocol and all that. Then I suppose she'll probably be put into the system until her parents can be found, or she's placed in a permanent home."

Aizawa frowned at that answer and then asked his next question before his brain had time to process what exactly he was getting himself into. "Who would I talk to about getting the girl placed with me?"

The officer looked at him, surprised for a minute, then said, "Probably whichever judge ends up presiding over her case."

Aizawa simply nodded then walked away before his mouth got him into any more trouble.