Cyclone - Shoto Todoroki

Chapter Five

The clear sky on the day I was born was so high, distant and endless.

A single thought came to Eraserhead, as he stood outside of the hotel for the first time.

'How stereotypical.'

The building was in disrepair, and if it weren't for the sign which boldly stated the establishment's nature in English, it would be easy to mistake it as an abandoned building.

Anybody passing by could easily spot just how shady it is. The kind of place that only attracts those with something to hide.

When he stepped inside, his initial impression was quickly proven correct. As the doors shut behind him, he was greeted with the sight of a man shouting at another, his clothes wrinkled and face red.

Eraserhead stood still by the entrance, assured that the wire attached to his jumper would pick up on any important information, content to stay quiet and watch things play out.

But luckily, or maybe unluckily, it was resolved less than a minute later, after the man who he assumed to be a member of staff successfully deescalated the situation.

It took only a few interesting words for the enraged man to immediately sober, muttering out a halfhearted apology as he wandered off to the side.

The employee in question sighed defeatedly, before turning around and walking into a separate room, leaving Eraserhead alone in the lobby.

He hesitated momentarily, eyes darting around the enclosed space, searching for the blinking lights of cameras- or the telltale signs of a potential trap.

After feeling assured of his safety, he walked forward to stand before the front desk, and noticed that there were papers strewn around it messily. He eyed the door that the employee had left through carefully, listening for any signs of movement.

After he felt confident that he wouldn't be returning soon, he got to work taking pictures of the scattered files. There were lists of names in what he assumed to be English, and a couple of documents which had many numbers sprawled over them.

Unfortunately, reading them would have to wait, as he heard footsteps moving towards the door and hurriedly dropped the file he had been in the middle of photographing. He returned to his position and stood lazily, as if he had been waiting undisturbed.

He had been expecting the man from earlier to emerge from the door, and was surprised when instead, a kid no older than thirteen walked out.

The boy had bright, distinctive red hair, with a pair of plain glasses and a black hoodie, which seemed about five sizes too big for him.

Seeing the kid instantly caused alarm bells to start ringing in his head, questions firing inside of his mind at a rapid pace. His instincts, carefully cultivated as a teacher, screamed at him that this couldn't be right.

''Is this kid working here?''

''Is somebody so young a criminal, or is he an oblivious civilian?''

But unfortunately for the sake of this case, he knew he couldn't ask such things without coming off as suspicious. With a heavy heart he proceeded to sign in, using the fake name assigned to him, crafted to protect his civilian identity.

His eyes returned to the young boy, and as he looked closer, he noticed a large scar adorning the left side of his face, surrounding a bright pink eye- possibly marring the skin right up to his hairline.

Despite his many years working as a pro hero, facing all kinds of horrors in the underground, it never hurts any less to see the remnants of such a painful injury scarring the face of a child.