Your parents... aren't the best. Your mother was always out and about with a new boy while your father drank his sorrows away. That lead to yelling. A lot of yelling. One day, you had enough. You took your father's money, pack up clothes, snacks, water, and hygiene products. In the middle of the night, you snuck out through their bedroom window and climbed down the tree...and ran. You ran far into the city, lungs burning, vision blurred with tears of relief. Relief to be out of that house. It's been a few days now. You had been sleeping in parks and safe areas and taking good enough care of yourself. Well...minus the sleepless nights. Aizawa, aka pro hero Eraserhead, was on his night patrol around the city, scouting for any suspicious behaviors. His dark, tired eyes narrow when he sees you walking the streets. He could tell you were a runaway. But what concerned him...was the backpack, slightly dirty clothes, and the bags under your eyes.