In a near impoverished town called Corshew near the edge of Musutafu, Japan lived the town's only hero for its surprisingly large size. The hero's name was Scythe; he had been living as a hero in that town for over 13 years and had acquired two apprentices by the names of Hassan, and Glintra. They had yet to receive their hero names, as they were apprentices, and not full-fledged sidekicks, but were working hard towards that goal and showed much promise. The hero who protected Corshew, Scythe's real name was Hanzo, and had graduated from Ketsubutsu Academy and come to work as a hero I the town he had grown up in. Respected throughout smaller parts of the hero community for being one of the world's greatest martial-artists (staff and scythe fighting was his specialty) and had various pulls at U.A. and his home school, Ketsubutsu.
Scythe patrolled the town in his hero costume, the black robe deftly designed to hide his limbs, and absorb light brushed against the pavement. A simple white mask with no eye or mouth holes glinted as the hood of the robe moved the let the sun shine on it, if only for a moment. The mask was made of a super alloy, and was very difficult to break, while still being light enough to wear in a fight. The mask was special as the inside was a screen that looked at the world directly around him better than his eyes could. The mask highlighted threats, saw in thermal vision, night vision, X-ray, and so much more through micro cameras located at key spots on Scythe's robe. It would be accurate to say: he had eyes in the back of his head.
It was this very mask that pointed out to Hanzo a disturbance in the town's balance. Out of the corner of one of the cameras, in the depth of an alley was a thug-like woman hulking over a terrified couple, a ball of plasma blazing in the woman's hand. His instincts kicked in, and he was forced into action, running as fast as he could. Under his robe, he reached over to his arm and grabbed a hold of it, yanking it free of its socket, and off his body. As soon as he did, the limb morphed into a long metallic scythe, the curved blade gleaming in the dusk. He wasn't going to make it in time. The woman raised her hand up to vaporize her victims, and Scythe ripped his hand with the blade in it out of his robe at blinding speed and pulled back to throw it. In the moment another figure stepped out from behind the dumpster that was across the alley from the terrified couple. The figure was about four and a half feet tall, with the physique of a small child, or more accurately, looked exactly like a small child. This stilled Scythe's hand as throwing the weapon with such a high body density in such a small place could result in injuries and even death, s he instead continued at a high speed toward the scene. The small child yelled something, but the yell was more of a cry to the ears of the combat hero, and the villain turned her head towards the kid and raised the ball of plasma in a threatening position. But the moment the villain made eye contact with the dark form, only silhouetted by the light coming from the plasma, she went rigid. Stiff as a board, and the plasma went out. In the split second it took for Scythe's mask to adjust to the sudden light change, the kid had his hand the villains hair, and had pulled her ear down to mouth-level. This was just when Hanzo arrived on the scene, weapon brandished, they all looked at him but the child who had turned his face away from the Hanzo. Scythe was shocked to see the face of the villain, streaming with tears, all the malice, fight, and energy gone from those eyes, taken over by a look of remorse of grief, comparable to only the faces of those who had watched their very family murdered before them, and Hanzo had seen many of those faces. Though his human instinct told him to embrace the hulk-like woman, logic forced his hand. Swinging the blunt side of the scythe, with the practiced hand of a professional, he knocked her unconscious in a single strike.
"Are you alright?" the combat hero asked in an authoritarian yet soothing voice. The couple, still cowering on the ground took his words as a lifeline; and the man almost gushed out "Thank you ! Yes, we're o-okay." as he scrambled to his feet. They walked out of the alley, the man bowing as he did, pulling his shell-shocked partner with him.
There were three figures left in the alley; the villain collapsed in a gruesomely twisted puddle on the ground, Scythe, and the boy who had spoken to the woman at his feet. Scythe turned to look at the boy a little eager to see what kind of boy wielded a quirk that could reduce a villain in the middle of a crime to the sobbing mess that he had forced to the ground. The first thing he noticed was the child's eyes. Some describe a pit of eternal darkness as 'void', but even the very embodiment of the word void did absolutely no justice to the sight held before him. Those eyes contained no iris, pupil, or retina; there were only black pits in which could seem bottomless, yet were also very full. And in the center of those jet ellipses rotated a simple hollow gold ring. It seemed to be made out of magma, if magma was the color of the purest angel's harp. Scythe involuntarily jolted back when the child tilted his head up to reveal his eyes to the hero, but soon after realized his mistake in recoiling as the boy gave the universal small hurt child response, in a smaller and more protected was than most could perceive. Though it was only Scythe seeing the boy through cameras via his mask, it was usually better than the naked eye. After this simple exchange between hero and child; scythe took in the other aspects of the boy other than his eyes. He was scrawny, the kind of scrawny only obtainable from months on very low-calorie intake, and days on end without food, for years. And his hair, a shade of brown that could only be called 'shit', insulted further by the black rag he wore as a shirt that probably had seen more than most adults its age. " leave here old man" the small boy said in a voice as silver as his eyes were terrifying.