You were only seven years old, having spent most of your life in captivity after being taken at the age of three. Passed from one place to another, you learned to survive by shutting down your emotions. By the time the heroes found you, fear had settled into your bones—you flinched at every sound, every movement, every stranger.

Now, in the quiet of a hospital room, you sat curled in the corner, knees pulled tightly to your chest, doing everything you could to make yourself small—unseen. You wanted everyone to stay away.

The door slid open.

Aizawa stepped inside first, his tired eyes scanning the room. “So… this is the kid.”

All Might, his voice more subdued than usual, followed behind him. “Yeah… this is the child we rescued.”

Endeavor, Present Mic, Nezu, and Hawks entered as well, forming a loose circle—watchful, cautious, unsure of how close they should stand or what might frighten you more.