There is what we call "The Calm Before The Storm".
The worst things happen when we least expect it. Or that's not how it is and we're thinking about it in the wrong angle. Maybe it is the fact that we didn't expect it to happen that makes it worse than it already is. We feel sorrow and regret because of not being able to foresee things falling apart. We feel sorrow and regret because we were unable to do more back when everything was okay.
In this calm, all our guards are down.
That's usually the time when we lose something.
"A child has gone missing today in Musutafu. Nine-year-old Yukimura Miyu was last seen on the gates of her school, Hakara Elementary. Her parents claimed to have dropped her off to school to ensure her safety. According to teachers and classmates, she didn't attend any of her classes. The police are currently conducting a search operation to locate the missing child."
The noise carried on as the broadcaster continued to deliver the news for the day. Midoriya Inko was too busy to pay any attention to what was being said, her eyes and ears were occupied by the task she has at hand. The television's sound fades into the background, blending in with the noise of ceramic to ceramic and the chirping of birds. It was a better company than silence, she thinks. She hums as she prepares the table, setting down the plates on the surface of the wooden table. One of the plates was made of plastic, so as to not break easily. It had yellow edges, but was mostly blue. A superhero character was in the very center of it, one hand raised.
"Izuku!" she calls. "Food's ready!"
Her voice triggers muffled shuffling noises behind a door a few walks away. The door opens and a boy as tall as her legs emerges from it. He was clothed in a blue, red, and yellow onesie similar to that of the character on the plate, one of his hands raised as he shouts 'I am here' enthusiastically. He skips his way towards the dinner table and hops when he's near it. The action caused his curly dark green hair to bounce and his hoodie to fall from his head. His expression was that of a smile that reached up to his ears. There is excitement written all over his chubby-cheeked face as he chants "katsudon" with his small high-pitched voice.
Inko couldn't help it as her lips curved upwards and her eyes softened at the sight. Warmth fills her chest as she carries the boy to let him sit on his chair. He's still too small to sit on his own.
She cooked his favorite tonight - a hot bowl of Katsudon. He had always been excited about whatever food that she prepared. Izuku always claimed that his mom's cooking is the best. But his reactions to Katsudon were much more energetic than the usual. He normally only runs up towards the dinner table and gawks at the sight of what's cooked - but on katsudon nights, he jumps and cheers. Even if he hadn't told her outright, it was easy to figure out what food he loved the most.
Izuku eats his food with a lot of energy. He takes huge bites every time. Inko has to remind him to slow down or he will choke, which the four-year-old obliges. The mother watched as her son chews on his katsudon, wiping his food-stained cheeks with a smile.
"All Might saved the day once again…"
His ears perked up - Inko notices. Izuku immediately turns his head towards the television, his cheeks still moving as he chews. It was clear that his eyes were widening in anticipation for the news.
Izuku is a huge All Might fan. This is evidenced by the All Might themed hoodie he is currently sporting and the All Might themed nameplate hanging by his door, not to mention the All Might plastic plate he is using at the moment. The image of the blue, red, and yellow hero always makes Izuku grin. The boy's admiration for All Might had even made him declare his own desire to be a hero, always rambling about the day his quirk activates.
The young boy already has a bunch of theories on what his quirk might be.
The ability to pull things towards his direction, like Inko? Likely.
The ability to breathe fire like his father? Maybe.
The ability to make things hot with just a touch, like his paternal grandfather? Could be that one too.
The ability to make copies of oneself like his maternal grandmother? Can't exclude that one possibility.
As long as he's happy with himself and he isn't hurt, Inko doesn't have problems.
She's also excited about the day his quirk makes itself known to the world. He's four now - it might happen anytime soon. She knows he'll get something amazing; it's what he deserves.
In the Midoriya household, a mother grins at her over-excited son, wishing the best for him and his dreams.
In another, a mother grieves at the loss of her daughter the world ripped away from her.
There were loud sobbing noises in the police station as the middle-aged lady cries. A man, presumably her husband, tries to soothe her by rubbing circles on her back. It was distressing, and the round-eyed detective feels like he couldn't ever get used to the sight of that. Despite this, he continues to walk with his chest puffed out, not letting the concern show in his figure.
He needs to show confidence - an aura of 'we'll find a way'. He needs to show strength, especially when there are people around who feel like there's no hope. He continues this facade as he finds the door he was looking for, opens it, and greets the first man he sees inside.
"Oh, Kurahashi!" The round-eyed detective greets.
Kurahashi, a slim man in his forties, raises his head from his palms, revealing dark circles underneath his tired eyes. His skin was pale, and his movements sluggish. He blinks at the round-eyed policeman and is silent for a few seconds before he responds.
"Naomasa. You're way too energetic."
Naomasa, the round-eyed detective, smiles before schooling his expression into a concerned one. He speaks as he removes his coat to place it on the coat rack. "I heard there's another missing child case?"
"The third one this month alone. Runaway kids seemingly disappearing to God-knows-where and toddlers getting kidnapped on the way to school - no ransom."
Naomasa couldn't help the look of sadness that crosses his face for a millisecond. Today's missing child case had been a nine-year-old. From what he's heard, the two missing child cases that happened earlier in the month were that of a fourteen-year-old and a five-year-old. He wonders about the feelings of the children - helpless and lost and scared. No one deserves to experience that, especially when they're so young.
"It's underground stuff. Monkey business. Child trafficking. There's no other explanation for it."
Kurahashi talking breaks Naomasa from his thoughts.
"Crime rates have slowed down the past few years, largely thanks to Mr. Symbol of Peace. But recently there seems to have been a slight increase in missing people cases. Not just children, but adults as well." Kurahashi pauses as he rests his face into his palms again. "Because we're so slow at figuring out their locations and who's behind all this mess, God knows what all these people are experiencing right now. I don't even want to imagine. Especially the children. Fuck."
The other detective remains quiet. He's not the best at comforting his co-workers with words. He knows that words of empathy are not what Kurahashi needs right now. Naomasa knows exactly what it feels to blame yourself when bad things happen. He knows what it's like to be aware of your incompetence as a detective. He also knows what it feels like when people say 'I know how it feels' to comfort you.
Naomasa knows that right now, what Kurahashi needs is a lead. What he needs is progress.
"We'll figure it out," Naomasa says, catching the attention of the other detective. "We will find those people..."
His breath hitches.
"We will save them."
I want to be like All Might. I want to save people.
Izuku stares at the picture he's drawn for art class, satisfaction all over his face.
The class had been assigned to draw their dreams in a sheet of paper - what they'll be like twenty years from now. For his paper, Izuku drew himself as a superhero wearing the exact same red, blue, and yellow costume as the symbol of peace. He had a huge smile in the illustration, with people on his arms having very relieved expressions. There's also his mom beside him in the drawing, smiling and proud. For an adult eye, it's probably not too easy to discern the fact that the woman was his mom - aside from the fact that she was drawn with green hair. He blames it on his lack of art skills.
Izuku just can't imagine a life without her.
Everyone in school hadn't been exactly nice to Izuku, noting him being a crybaby as a reason to write him off as 'annoying'. However, his mom had never admonished him for his tears. Instead, she listens.
Not only that, but she also makes the best food. Especially her katsudon, which she makes whenever he's down.
She also plays with him. The other kids tend to leave him out of games and ignore him. He loves her for that.
Whenever he's sad, she always wraps him in his favorite All Might blanket and hugs him really tight. It's cozy when she hugs him, and sometimes he falls asleep.
His mom is the best at everything, he concludes with a smile. He needs to give her something for her birthday soon. What gift would be nice to give her? A necklace? A hair tie? Or maybe he should give her a birthday card?
Izuku keeps his art class masterpiece for a while - he'll show that to his mom later.
The parents of his classmates are already here to pick them up. He sits on the waiting area, kicking his foot as he patiently waits for his mom. Sometimes she's late by a few minutes, but it's okay. She's a solo parent and she has to do a lot of things in order to keep the both of them to live a comfortable life. Izuku is grateful for that. Waiting for a few minutes doesn't hurt.
He waits for a few minutes.
Only a few students remain waiting with him.
He waits for a few minutes.
Ah. He's alone.
"Izuku!" He hears a voice. "Your mom's not here yet?"
He turns his head towards his left to see a young lady walking towards him. It was one of their teachers in the kindergarten. Izuku smiles at her to be polite.
"She's not here yet," he responds shyly, looking down at his feet as he continues to swing them back and forth.
On the corner of his eyes, he can see her removing the white gloves on her hands. She wears it a lot. He assumed it's because of her quirk - not that he has any idea what that is. He thinks her hands are pretty - they're dainty, and she wears pastel pink nails. He thinks it's a shame to hide such pretty hands because of a quirk.
His kindergarten teacher speaks again.
"It's dangerous when you're alone here. I heard there are a lot of kids going missing lately."
Izuku flinches. He forgot about that. He's noticed a lot of missing children posters around the city recently. And he can hear the whispers of the parents whenever they come to fetch their kids.
"How about let's go inside the school, hm? I'll call you when your mom's here."
Izuku thinks that seems reasonable. He hops off the seat he occupied in the waiting area and wraps his small hands on the strap of his All Might backpack. He looks up to his teacher and nods. "Okay!"
His teacher smiles, her gloveless hands reach for his shoulder. probably to guide him along the way. Izuku notices how only one of his fingers was outstretched - as if pointing at him.
No.
He feels her cold skin on the back of his neck.
And then there was black .