CH3: No Trace, No Past

Swiftstep barely had time to react before the kid he'd grabbed swung wildly at him. Reflexes kicking in, he dodged to the side, his quirk making the motion feel effortless. The kid, though—he was all panic, eyes wide and frantic. Before Swiftstep could even say anything, the kid stumbled back, his feet sliding in the slick mud as he scrambled away.

'Whoa, he's freaked,' taking a cautious step forward, hands still raised in what he hoped was a calming gesture. "Hey, hey, it's okay! You're alright!"

But the kid wasn't listening. He backed out from under the small roof, right into the rain, and slipped. The next thing Swiftstep knew, the kid was down in the mud, landing with a splash. Water and muck splattered everywhere, soaking through the kid's already drenched clothes.

Swiftstep winced. 'That's rough.'

The kid sat there for a moment, blinking like he barely noticed the mess he was in. Mud clung to his clothes, his hair plastered against his forehead. He looked like he was in complete shock.

"Hey, it's alright," Swiftstep said again, moving closer but keeping his voice gentle. "You're not in trouble. I'm just trying to help."

The kid's eyes darted up, confusion all over his face. Swiftstep frowned. Something wasn't right. Usually by now, a freaked-out kid would start asking questions, maybe stammer out an apology or at least respond. But this one? He just looked… lost.

Swiftstep crouched down slightly, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. "Listen, let's get you up, okay? You can't stay out here in the rain. We'll figure this out."

The kid stared at him, still wide-eyed, but no words came out. Just more silence. It was like he didn't even know how to respond. Swiftstep's frown deepened. 'Is he in shock or...?' He tilted his head slightly, watching the kid's face, searching for a clue. And then it hit him.

'He… he doesn't understand me.'

Swiftstep's stomach sank a little as he realized what was happening. The blank look, the confusion—it wasn't shock. The kid didn't understand a word he was saying.

"Wait," Swiftstep muttered, stepping back slightly. He raised a hand, trying to gesture for the kid to stay put. "Hold on, just… stay here."

****

Calvas sat in the mud, heart still racing, but the panic had begun to fade. The guy in front of him—this hero—didn't seem like he meant any harm. After a few seconds of staring at each other, it started to sink in. Wiping rain and mud from his face.

But then came the problem he hadn't considered until that moment—the guy was talking, a lot, and Calvas couldn't understand a single word. The hero—kept trying to say something, but all Calvas could do was stare back, totally lost.

The hero gave a small, exasperated sigh, stepping back and making a gesture with his hands as if to say 'hold on' or 'wait here.' Calvas blinked, catching on to the signals. Okay, he's getting help or something, he realized, nodding dumbly. The hero turned and jogged off through the rain, leaving Calvas sitting in the mud, soaked to the bone.

He shivered, hugging himself as he tried to shake off the cold.'What do I even say if they come back?'

A minute later, a new figure stepped into view. It was another hero. He was taller, older, with a sleek, well-fitted suit that looked like it was designed for this kind of weather. The guy walked over with an air of calm authority, glancing down at Calvas as if assessing the situation.

The new hero started talking, but again, it was all in Japanese. Calvas winced, shaking his head in frustration. "I—I don't understand," he muttered, his voice cracking. "I don't speak Japanese. I'm sorry."

The hero paused, looking at him for a moment before switching to English with a slightly accented but clear voice. "You don't speak Japanese? Okay." He crouched down slightly to meet Calvas's eyes. "What are you doing out here, kid? You're in the rain, you don't have shoes... Did something happen?"

Calvas blinked, trying to wrap his head around what the hero had just said. Kid? The word echoed in his mind, and he instinctively glanced down at himself. Something was off. His arms, his legs—they didn't feel like they usually did. And both of these heroes, they seemed so much taller than they should've been.

Wait… Oh crap… I'm not a kid… am I?

Before he could process it fully, the hero leaned in slightly, concern clear on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Calvas's thoughts were spinning. I've been de-aged… The system had done something to him, made him younger—but this… Focus, this could be useful. A flicker of an idea formed in his mind. They don't know who I am. If I play this right…

Suddenly, a plan began to take shape. He could use this. If he acted like he didn't remember anything—if they thought he was just some kid who didn't know what was going on—he might be able to stay under the radar. It would buy him time to figure things out.

The hero spoke again, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Calvas blinked, snapping out of his daze. "I… I don't know," he stammered, forcing his voice to shake a little. "I… I can't remember anything." He let his eyes widen slightly, making himself look as confused as possible. "I don't know where I am, or what happened. I just… woke up here."

The hero's expression softened immediately. "You can't remember anything? Not even your name?"

Calvas hesitated for a second, just enough to sell the act. "No… nothing." He swallowed hard, trying to look lost, like he was searching for something in his memory but coming up blank. "I don't even know how I got here."

The hero frowned, glancing over his shoulder as if looking for someone, then turned back to Calvas. "Alright. We'll figure this out. Don't worry. We'll get you somewhere safe."

Calvas nodded, trying not to let his relief show too much. Perfect. Just keep this up, and they'll think I'm harmless. He'd bought himself some time.

****

Glide leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze drifting toward the door where the kid had been taken. The whole situation gnawed at him—something didn't sit right. He turned to the investigator, trying to mask his unease. "Alright," Glide said, "what've we got?"

The investigator—Ando, a grizzled man in his late forties—didn't look up from his clipboard immediately. He flipped through a few pages, his lips pressed into a thin line. "It's... strange," Ando muttered, finally glancing up. His voice was rough, like a man who'd spent one too many nights without enough sleep. "We ran the usual checks. Kid's got no ID, no registration. Not even a trace of him in the database."

Glide raised an eyebrow. "Nothing at all?"

"Not a thing." Ando sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He says he woke up in an alley and made his way to the park to get out of the rain. Claims he can't remember a damn thing before that."

Glide frowned. "You believe him?"

Ando's mouth twitched in something resembling a half-smile, but there was no humor in it. "I don't believe anyone these days." He tapped his pen against the clipboard. "But here's the thing—physically, the kid's in damn near perfect shape. No bruises, no signs of trauma. Hell, he doesn't even look like he's been on the street. No malnutrition, nothing."

"So, what… he's just some kid who conveniently can't remember anything?" Glide asked, his tone sharpening with skepticism.

Ando shrugged. "Could be. Or he's playing us. We've had cases before—people faking amnesia, trying to hide from something." He flipped to another page, his gaze narrowing. "But this one's weird. No history. No missing persons match his description. Nothing about him fits."

Glide's brow furrowed. "And his quirk?"

Ando sighed again, shaking his head. "That's the strangest part. The kid didn't even know what a quirk was—acted like the whole concept was foreign to him."

"Oblivious to quirks?" Glide echoed, surprised.

"Yeah. Weird, right?" Ando scratched his chin, flipping back to his notes. "And he's clearly not from around here. Kid doesn't speak the language—English speaker. I don't think he understands half of what's going on."

Glide shifted, a weight settling in his chest. 'Kid looks harmless,' he thought, 'but something's off.' He'd dealt with runaways and people down on their luck before, but this wasn't adding up. The pieces didn't fit together like they should.

"So, what now?" Glide asked, his voice quieter, a thread of concern creeping in. "If he's not in the system, do we keep looking?"

"Yeah, but don't expect much," Ando replied, his tone flat. "We'll keep digging, see if anything turns up, but for now, we're stuck. Kid says he doesn't know a thing about himself. Either he's lying through his teeth or something seriously screwed him up."

Glide ran a hand through his rain-damp hair, glancing toward the door again. 'What are you hiding, kid?

"He's young," Glide said after a moment, his voice more thoughtful. "Probably scared out of his mind. Maybe he's not faking it."

"Maybe," Ando muttered, clearly not convinced.

Glide shook his head, pushing off the wall. "Keep me updated. If something changes, I want to know."

Ando gave a small nod, scribbling something on his clipboard. "Sure thing."

As Glide turned to leave, a nagging thought gnawed at the back of his mind. This isn't over. There's more to this kid than he's letting on. And I'm going to figure out what.