It's a group of seven people, two brown-skinned girls, one short and one tall, and two pale women; two guys, one with dyed-blond hair and one with curls and finally, a person with mid-shoulder length hair. They look to be around eighteen and in their late twenties.
"UGHH, ME QUIERO MORIR," The shortest of the group grabs the blond and shakes him in faux anger; the boyish man snickers, amused.
Another girl sighs, utterly destroyed."Prueba culia,"
"Vamos a tomar? Para pasar las penas," The curly-haired one proposes. Everyone agrees except for the blond guy.
"Para la proxima, mira que no traigo ni uno," The guy gestures, showing his empty pockets.
"Ya, hermano, nos vemos el miercoles,"
"Bye, Nat!" "See you, bro," "Derechito a la casa!""Adios, wawita!" Fist bumps, hugs and kisses on the cheeks are exchanged between the group to farewell the parting guy.
He blows a kiss and says: "Chaito~," The blond steps forward, only to fall into darkness.
(He is none of the wiser, but his friends and other witnesses see it clearly: a black hole that appeared right under his feet, making Nat fall into an abyss and disappear forever.)
He is kneeling in the middle of a busy street. His eyes hurt like his hands, his legs and his arms, as well as his ears, his legs and his head: everything is painful.
He whimpers and grabs his head, trying to press the pain away. With his arms up, he can feel his backpack hanging tight on his back and his skateboard wheels pressed against his tights.
He feels people talking around him and someone grabbing his arms to help him stand up.
Some of these hands feel way too large.
He opens his eyes, cringing at the lack of eyeglasses, but surprisingly, it does not affect him that much: his sight is just half as bad as it should be. He opens them wide like plates: Your everyday busy street, the people walking, standing and even those fussing all over him, look odd. Well, not odd per se, that sounds just rude, but the people here, those surrounding him, are not, um, typical: a man with a lion head, paws and tail; a woman with horns adorning her head; a blond boy with a large tail, and another boy with dark brown hair.
This place is definitely not home.
The lion man asks him something, voice full of worry, and the only thing he can make sense of is an 'okay' and 'you'. Nathan recognizes the language as Japanese, but that's all he understands because soon he is back to utter loss.
"P-perdón? ¿I'm sorry?" He tries both languages he is proficient at, but none of them seem to realize what he is trying to say. Surprisingly, he didn't scream out of fear.
Between god knows the weird-looking people and his inability to get the point across, the appearance of cops should have been a relief. But it's not. He knows what cops are like when they can't understand you: he won't trust them to help him.
So he does the sensible thing: he runs away.
He jumps onto his skateboard and rides as fast as his legs allow him, disappearing on a turn that only god knows where it goes.
Hosu City, Hosu ward, Tokyo, Japan.
"We are looking for a boy: around twelve years old, a foreigner. Possible illegal quirk use and running away from an agent: officer Nikita." Fukuta Miko begins the reunion, describing the situation to her team.
"Hair colour? Clothes? Height?"
"Blond, brown roots. The kid was wearing a green t-shirt and black shorts; he also had a yellow backpack,"
"Underdressed for the weather; the nights here are too cold"
"Don't forget the skateboard! That's how he got away," Adds Kuran Junichi, endlessly typing into their computer, looking absolutely exhausted.
"Quirk?"
Miko double-checks the paper: "A few witnesses claim teleportation, but others say he didn't use any,"
"We finally got the surveillance clip!" Ushikatsu Satoru interrupted conveniently. He is a man built like a bull, quite literally.
They watch the video. The blond's face was a little blurry, but you could get the boy's main features: young, short, dyed blond hair. The boy wore dark shorts, a plain green t-shirt, and blue skate shoes. In his back was a yellow backpack. Ushikatsu paused the video on the best take: just before the kid ran away. "That's our kid,"
"Wait a second," Nakajima Riki, a pink-haired man, rewinds the video to the very beginning.
They now see how the child is 'dropped' by a large shadow in the middle of the street, quickly noticed by a lion-headed man.
"Teletransportation quirk? Those are rare," Wondered Saiki Kou, another officer
Matsuura Momoe interrupts her colleague: "Not his, at least. Otherwise, he would have used it to get away instead of running,"
The dog-headed man plays the video again and then once more, reaching a new conclusion: "Our Yamada Tarou-kun* does not speak Japanese."
"You sure, chief?"
"Look at him: he does not answer any questions and shows confusion anytime someone talks to him," Adds the man.
Nakajima raises his hand, not really waiting for permission to talk: "Nanashi, are we calling him that? You think he is a kidnapping victim,"
"Foreigner, no knowledge of the language, inappropriately dressed for the weather, in obvious pain," Matsuura raises a finger each time she connects the dots behind their chief's reasoning. Riki frowns at her but agrees.
Child abduction has reduced drastically over the years, but the motives behind them are still as crude as ever, and with the existence of quirks, it just added a new reason for them: quirk abductions. Whatever the reason for them, wanting an 'exotic' kid or either powerful ones for illegal fighting rings. Human experimentation is not above the abductors: they only care about what they can get in return for subtracting minors.
There's a high percentage of children who managed to free themselves thanks to their quirks and the presence of heroes and vigilantes in critical zones, such as schools, hospitals and poorer districts: the statistics lowered with time, but never drastically.
"But then: why does he have his things?" Asks Kuran, playing with their pencil, "Was he attempting to escape?"
Fukuta scratches her neck: "Not sure. But whichever the case, we've got two motives to issue an Amber Alert for him."
"Extend the search to Nerima, Suginami and Setagaya, alert heroes to stay on watch for any boy with that description. Make haste: if he really is a kidnapping victim, he'll try to change his appearance to avoid being noticed by his abductors,"
Yes, he has to admit that running away wasn't the brightest idea he had, but it gives him time to think.
Nathan avoids looking at people, not wanting to unknowingly make faces, like he tends to do, and offend them, and then the people ask him:'what's your problem?'but he won't know it because he won't be able to understand them and then-
He steps into an alley when no one's looking at him and grabs his phone hoping to find something that will help him with his current situation: unlikely but worth trying.
His cellphone screen lights up, and everything is as it should be: his block screen is a picture of his youngest nephew's first Halloween, and once he puts the pass-word, the image changes to an Enkanomiya wallpaper from his favourite game. He gets on his message app and quickly finds the last text he sent his mom, telling her that he just got out of class.
He tries to send her a message, but the phone has no signal: it doesn't surprise him: it's clear once he remembers this is not his home or even his dimension for all he knows.
He starts checking out his other group chats: conversations he doesn't remember having, archives Nathan never downloaded, as well as photographs with people he barely recognizes: on this subject, another issue arises:
That's not him.
Well, it is him, to some extent: the round cheeks, the dyed blond hair, the small scar on the corner of his right eye; that's totally him, but the height, the big owl eyes, childish eyes, the pudginess that characterized him for most of his life and the years taken away from him help him realize that this is also not who he should be.
It's strange: he knows he is twenty-two, but Nat can't remember ever turning eighteen.
He takes a deep breath.
And he promptly panics.
"WHATDOIDO,"
Is this world trying to get rid of his previous life's memories!? Who even is he to be awarded such a level of thought!? Is it worth it for whatever plot that's unfolding, kidnapping a random meaningless student!? Are those even his memories?
How can he survive in a world filled with, dare he say, monsters? No, it looks like a whole advanced society, and even if he is scared of their appearances, he shouldn't judge them just because of that: there are heavier issues at hand, like what the hell is he going to do!?
It's only now that he notices the scenery and the crippling, cold wind againts his skin.
"Tantas hojas?..." He confirms and reaches down to grab a pinch of leaves, cringing at the coolness of them. "Vete a la verga,"
He hadn't even realized that he was freezing, skin paler than it should be.
The blond throws his skateboard to the ground and opens his backpack, taking out his yellow hoodie. "Ahora si!" He says after getting into his warm jacket, appreciating the beauty of life. But his legs are still cold, unprotected from the chilly climate. He needs pants.
Unsurprisingly, a short boy with light-coloured hair passes inadvertently through all the 'animal' people and the most 'common-looking' folk. 'Ugh, eso suena muy pesado," Nathan reprimands himself, remembering that if he is in this world now, he has to get used to how their population looks like: they are all human (he thinks) just like him. He almost gets trapped in his thoughts and shivering legs when he spots an empty store with the 'open' sign hanging from the glass doors.
'Eureka,' His mind says.
He had seen that type of store before on a Youtube video. Second-hand clothing stores that worked 'alone', trusting the clients to pay using QR codes. The whole ordeal is actually way too convenient for him, but best not to look at a gift horse in the mouth.
(He never really understood why the phrase meant what it meant, but who is he to judge?)
The boy returns to the alley where he left his skateboard and takes off his hoodie, shrinking at the cold breeze hitting his arms and back. Nathan ignores the chill, opening his backpack and putting the item inside, and instead, retrieves his red cap, carefully hiding all his hair in it.
He enters the store, searches carefully, and walks back outside with all the naturalness his awkward person has back to the alley.
It's not the first time he has stolen something, but the feeling of doing something bad never goes away; thankfully, he overcame the shame thirty minutes after he did the do and went his merry way to the train station in black jeans and a green insulated vest.
He walks into a subway, miraculously skipping the fare zone with ease, as if no one's even trying to stop him; he feels the stares, but no one does anything to put an end to his mischievousness. That's odd, but at this point, it's only helping him. Yay for the small-time criminals.
Nathan fixes his attention on a random guy and decides he'll get off the train once the man does it. He sits quietly, looking at the windows, remembering all the good times he had before he got into this situation.
Kamino ward, Yokohama, League of Villains base.
"Where's the brat?" The seventeen-year-old exhaled dramatically, tired of sitting still and waiting for his so-called kohai*.
"It seems there has been some...miscalculations,"
This is the last time he allows others to do what he could have done himself. If the cowards hadn't run away to hide in countries of difficult pronunciation, he'd already be with them, ready to rip their quirks away from them as he should have done from the beginning.
Once the guy gets off the train, he follows suit. Then he picks someone else and repeats. He understands that he must not be here at random, this has got to be planned in some way to fuck with him; so he'll make it as difficult as possible for whoever took him from his home into this godforsaken world. He is twelve, and he is angry! Wait, since when was he twelve!?
It doesn't matter! (It does) He gets off the train and promptly waits for another, this time choosing to follow an old woman. How has he gotten this far without anyone questioning him? He does not know: it must be for the script's needs. He does the same thing another three times until he is too dizzy to continue, and walks out of the station.
The blond takes to walks aimlessly around the city: he needs to know which places he has near if he plans on surviving until he plans out his course of action. He can't just hand himself over to whatever government is in charge: these people must have superpowers or something if their physical aspects are anything noteworthy in this place. He fails to notice when he arrives at a children's park: only the voices and yells bring him back to reality.
Suddenly, a cry has him turning his head in another direction: it's a kid with a cat head (he is going to list that as awesome and cute) crying on the floor, hugging his knee, while other children look at him, not knowing what to do.
His instincts kick, and before he can think, he is beside the mutant kid.
"A-Are you okay?" He asks shakily, unsure if he pronounced it correctly. The child is about to cry out again, but instead, something happens. Once all five of his fingers touch the young kid's leg, it starts shining with a diamond-like shine, engulfing the bloody injury kindly into its glow.
The child watches with amazement as the injury gradually disappears right in front of their eyes. Unbeknownst to the child, Nathan is in a heavier mental state.
"Thank you, ni-chan!" His leg still hurts, but once he notices that the injury really isn't there, the kid shoots right up to hug Nathan with gratitude.
Nat scans his hands, noticing the slightly protruding pinkish dots adorning his fingerprints. He touches them, feeling their smoothness: soft like a fluffy cat's tail. He is sure they were never there before.
The children jump around him for a few minutes, pointing at their own little bruises and cuts, asking him to 'cure' them too. He obliges since he has problems saying no to kids asking for help. ('Since when?' His mind adds, confused)
Some of the children even pay him with snacks, and some others even hand him spare coins. He would usually return the coins to them, not accepting money from toddlers and kids, but he kind of needs it right now.
"Ni-chan!" One little girl approaches him shyly and presents him with an action figure, and along with her is who Nathan thinks is her brother. The boy takes it in his hands: carefully not to touch it with all his fingers.
It's a buffy man dressed in some kind of spandex fabric, blond and obnoxious looking: his eyes hurt just by looking at it. He inspects it most closely, finding the issue of why the girl handed it over to him: there was a big scratch on the side of the doll, and it was missing half a hand. Nathan gives the girl a 'I'll try smile', honoured that the child thought he had an omnipotent power. He puts his pinky down and gasps when the toy starts shining just like all the children's injuries and bruises.
The girl beams at him, jumping from the happiness of seeing her precious toy back to 'health'. "Thank you!" The girl hands him a coin with the number 500: the highest he's got today.
He waves the siblings off with a kind smile. Little by little, the children start dispersing back to their games.
In all his stress, Nathan hadn't noticed how his clothes looked better, old holes and the stretched fabric is gone, his skateboard's griptape looked almost new, and the marks on the underside of the board filled as if the drawing had faded instead of scratched off: everything was just better. God, even his phone's screen looked perfect!
A sneaky smile creeps its way into his face.
Yamada Tarou, very much the japanese version of John Doe
Kohai, underclassmen; someone who started/arrived after you.