As the cool night wind softly rustles Aizawa's medium-length black hair, he perches atop the wooden light pole. His sharp eyes meticulously scan the area, especially the shadows, ensuring that no villains or dubious characters are up to no good. This nightly routine is essential for him: checking for anything unusual, helping those in need, and then heading home before school. Most evenings are uneventful, allowing him to relax, but tonight feels different.

Effortlessly jumping down from the wooden light pole, Aizawa makes his way to an alleyway, barely any light seeping into it. Suddenly, a strange- not welcomed- feeling overtakes him, a gut feeling. A feeling that something is going to happen that'll change his life either for the better or for the worse. His footsteps echo through the pitch-black alleyway, his flashlight the only source of light that's lighting his way.

Aizawa examines the alleyway, looking for anything that could be triggering his gut feeling, but ultimately finds nothing out of the usual. Dumpsters filled with trash, some of the said trash on the ground, graffiti on the brick walls, nothing appears to be wrong. Sighing and turning around to go back, thinking that his lack of sleep is just getting to him, a small shuffle is heard. Wiping around, flashlight out and shining to the spot where he heard the noise, he takes slow and cautious steps as his right-hand hovers over the knife on his lower back.

"Come out slowly," Aizawa ordered firmly to whoever was hidden in the shadows. When he gets nothing, he speaks again, this time louder and more impatient. "I said come out. Now!"

Muffled and distant, the sound of sobbing sends a chill down Aizawa's spine, a muffled sob that sounded close by. When Aizawa heard the muffled sob, it sounded like it came from a child, and concern rose in the usually stoic man. "Come on out; I won't hurt you," Aizawa spoke calmly and less impatient. If this is a child, then he needs to deal with this situation with the utmost care and patience. "I'm here to help."