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3rd pov

The boy sat across from the woman who technically kidnapped him. The two were sitting at Wcdonalds in one of their colorful red white and yellow booths. The woman's shield was on the floor, leaning against the small couch she was seated on.

A worker approached the table with a tray of many food on it; From burgers, fries to even a milkshake. The woman ordered almost everything off the menu.

"Here you go!", the worker exclaimed putting the tray of food down onto the table. "Thank you", the woman sniffed and gave a polite smile to the worker before they walked away. The woman grabbed the cup off the tray and began sipping it soon focusing back on the boy.

The boy was just glaring at her. If looks could kill she would be squirming and on fire where she say. Unfortunately, the child did not have a deadly eye power quirk.

"Eat", the woman spoke. The boy refused to causing her to roll his eyes.

"It ain't poison kid", she scoffed. He still did not eat.

"Eat the damn food. I an hear your stomach way from over here", she sighed pushing the tray towards him. The boy refrained himself from holding his stomach. It was true, his stomach was making all sorts of noises; He was surprised the whole block didn't hear his stomach. It got worst when the greasy aroma entered his noise. He could feel his water mouth starting to water. He stared at the food before looking up at the woman who let out a cocky chuckle. The boy finally gave him and began devouring his food. He didn't even bother swallowing he chewed at least three time before gulping down the fast food.

"Damn your really hungry ain't cha brat", the woman laughed. The boy cast her a glare before focusing back on his food.

After at least thirty minutes he was done. Not even a crumb or sip was left behind. The boy held his stomach while slumping back in his seat. He let out muffled burp then left he smelly air out into the air.

"You like the meal", the woman questioned. The boy focused his tired eyes on her after a couple of seconds he nodded his head hesitantly.

"Good now lets go home", the woman sighed as she scooted out of her booth. She picked her shield up and placed it onto her arm. She focused on the boy he did not move na inch from his seat. The woman rolled her eyes while letting out an annoyed sigh.

"Alright fuck fine listen kid...", she began taking her shield off and getting back into her booth across him again. Her shield rest back on the floor beside her.

"...I need a kid for a reason I don't have to tell you", she explained. "So you make your choice. I can always find another shit smelling brat around here", she said. "So do you either want to go back to that shit smelling hole you birthed from or come live with me", she questioned. "And yes I will actually take care of you as long you don't annoy me", she added leaning back on her seat.

"So...deal", she questioned. The boy say quietly thinking eve this answer. The woman began tapping her finger on the table while waiting for his answer. The boy did not like her; she was an meanie hr believed.

Even so, he knew that he would die if he decides to go back out on the streets. He'll be better off living with someone, he could always kill her later if she becomes a problem he thought.

"..Okay", he answered. "You are suppose to say deal kid", the woman informed. "...Deal", the boy corrected causing her to smile. "Good alright then...", she began, sliding out from the booth.

"...The names Y/n. Don't call me mom you don't get that honor yet", she joked while getting out of her seat.

"NOW that's rude to say to a kid", an old woman said from the seat behind them. "The only thing rude right now is you listening in our conversation, you nosey bitch", Y/n countered while strapping her shield back on her arm. "Now turn around before your bones lock up", she added then turned to focus back on the boy.

"Now what's your name", Y/n questioned. "..Tenko..Tenko Shimura", Tenko answered. "Alright Tenko, let's head home", Y/n smiled before walking towards the exit. Tenko got off his seat and began following her from a shirt distance.

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