They had met him in the summer.
It had been a day not unlike any of the other Saturdays that occurred during that summer. Their mother had taken them to a local park, a treat to celebrate the last few weeks before they began their first year of elementary school, and they had been practically skipping on the way there as if their six year old body was unable to contain all of the excitement brewing in them.
They were eager to finally be out of preschool, the lessons had been so boring and the days had seemed to drag on until being stuck in the cramped classroom had practically been suffocating. The children there had been fine for a time, fun even, until their quirk had developed.
The gloves had been a dead give away that their quirk wasn't like the others and after the other children found out about their quirk, the word had quickly spread to the rest of the class. Walking into to class and having all of the conversation stop and feel all of those eyes on them as the whispers began had been enough to send them home crying that day. They had looked to their mother with glassy, red rimmed eyes as they begged to be pulled out of school or to find a way to get rid of their quirk.
As the days passed the whispers got easier to deal with, even the occasional confrontation of a child calling them a villain became easier to handle - though often the events would still send them into their mother's arms with tear stained cheeks. After a while their mother had stopped asking what had happened or what was wrong. She already knew. Instead she would offer words of encouragement, insist that their time with these children was almost over and they could start fresh once they entered elementary school.
And that summer had been spent eagerly awaiting those first days of classes. But in that moment all they could think about was getting to run around the park. It wasn't often they got to visit, often their mother worked too late and it would be dark by the time she got home. Their mother didn't like them being out once the street lamps were on.
But this summer their mother had been working less and so the two had time every now and again to go out.
They had been practically dragging their mother along the sidewalk as they got closer to their destination. Their mother laughing and insisting that the rush wasn't necessary - the park wasn't going anywhere after all. She didn't understand though, what if by the time they got there the best swing had been taken? Or what if they had wasted so much time due to her insistence on such a slow pace that there was a line for the slide? They couldn't understand how their mother could be so forgetful of this. In their six year old mind these were pressing matters and certainly weren't anything to laugh at.
However, they soon forgot all about the slide or the swing upon entering the park. They had taken a look around to see how many other children were there, and if any had beaten them to the punch and already claimed the best the park had to offer for their own, when they saw a boy off by himself.
He was sitting in the grass, quietly watching all of the other children as they yelled and played. They couldn't shake the feeling that he looked so lonely. Not a moment after spotting him they began to make their way over to him.
He had eyed them as they approached and when it was clear that he wasn't going to say anything they decided to take the initiative.
"Why aren't you playing with the others," they asked as they took a seat next to him.
"They're playing heroes and villains," he explained. They both looked back to the group of children, the various quirks each had were being put on display during the game as their parents anxiously watched on. "I wanted to be a hero but my quirk isn't good for it."
"How can a quirk be no good for a hero?" they questioned with a tilt of their head. They looked the boy over, trying to decipher just what his quirk was that made it bad for the game.
"My quirk takes away everyone else's," he said with a pout coming to his lips, "they said it's too boring to be a hero quirk."
Looking back at the boy they felt their lips pulled down as they observed him. His quirk had made him lonely just like them. Maybe not in the same way, but lonely nonetheless.
"Well, they don't know what they're talking about," they declared, " You can just play with me." They began nervously picking at the grass under their hands. It had been a good few months since another person their age had agreed to play with them, their stomach did flips at the idea that he would tell them no like the others had. "Besides, I have a good villain quirk so you can be the hero."
"You think I can be the hero?" the boy asked, wide eyes blinking in surprise at them.
A smile spread across their face as they realized the boy hadn't said no. "Well, duh," they said as they jumped to their feet and ushered the boy up as well, "heroes have a lot of different quirks."
"But we don't have enough players." They both knew heroes and villains was played with at least three people. Someone needed to be rescued after all.
"Well, we can make up new rules!" They insisted. They weren't about to lose out on the first playmate they've had in such a long time. If they had to break the rules of the game to keep him then they would.
They watched on bated breath as the boy considered their offer. After what they considered to be far too long to debate if you wanted to play a game or not the boy gave a small nod.
"Okay, so how do we play?" He asked.
The rest of the afternoon had been filled with the sounds of their shouts and laughter as the two chased after each other.
By the time the sun began to set in the sky and they had both been collected by their parents they had both been a panting and exhausted mess. Their shins and elbows scraped from falling and their hair a nest of tangles after so many tumbles after one had caught the other. However, both were sporting large grins and seemed to find renewed energy to tell their parents all about the new friend they had made.
They were certain that by the end of that next week their mother had grown so tired of hearing all about Aizawa Shouta but she never did anything to discourage them from seeking their new friend out every weekend for the rest of the summer.
He was a very nice boy, and for a six year old he was also very cleaver. He wasn't as fast as they were but he would always be able to win whenever they played heroes and villains. Somehow he would always just know where they planned on running to and cut off their escape. It wasn't often that they were able to trick him and win but he made each game interesting so winning was never too important.
When they discovered they would both be attending the same elementary school the two had been excited to have a familiar face in such a new environment.
How quickly he had become their best friend. Many years later, the thought that the two had ever been friends would seem more like a fever dream than reality.