Prologue: The Dark Can Only Last So Long

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Trauma is a funny thing. The effects can vary widely from victim to victim, so it's nearly impossible to pinpoint what weird ass habits a person has is a result of said trauma or, well, if they're just nuttier than a fruit cake. Most of the time, it's decided by the doctors or therapists whether that scratching a patient is doing is a nervous tick or not, but at the end of the day, any trauma patient knows the public is going to deem you one of two things. First, you have a serious mental problem and they automatically become wary of you because in their eyes you're crazy. Or you've got a serious case of either poison ivy or bed bugs. Which still drives them away and causes them to act like you have the plague. So, naturally, and against all doctor and therapist recommendation, the patient begins to hide any and all traces of trauma just so they can feel like less of a freak. So they can be treated normally.

Now this is an act of self preservation that really anyone could understand, as no one wants to be ostracized, but is a relatively unhealthy practice. Because eventually, the trauma paired with the stress that is guaranteed to accompany everyday life will become too much to keep in. And as we all know, a mental breakdown will be imminent. A dangerous force, mental breakdowns drive people to do things they never would have done, things that they will later regret. And, in this day and time in human evolution, a mental breakdown can cause a complete loss of control of ones quirk, which in turn can inflict some serious damage upon anything and anyone around them. Such is the case with Reina Mathers.

The police called to the scene that day were astonished by the then, fourteen year old girl. It wasn't that she was very obviously frequently beaten and starved. Nor was it the fact that they found drugs in her system that were only sold on the black market, whose intended purpose was to complete;y immobilize a powerful quirk user. It wasn't because, despite of the drug, she had managed to use her quirk to drain her attempted rapist of all of the ATP in his cells, causing the mans death, and expelling the energy out in a massive shockwave that destroyed the trap house her parents were running, thereby alerting the police to her situation. As astonishing as all that was, none of it was the cause of the shock they felt when they emcountered the young girl, sitting in the middle of the rubble of the destroyed shack of a dwelling. What shocked them was how sweetly and calmly she was when she asked them to make sure her would-be rapists family knew what had happened to him. And to let them know she was sorry for killing him.

Her remorse and self loathing was something that the police could never hope to understand. If it were any of them they wouldn't have cared what happened to him. Hell, it's not as though the perp was a good man, he had a rap sheet longer than most. A truly vile human being known for sexual assault, rape, attempted murder, amd a slew of other charges, as well as just downright hateful behavior. In short, a man who just wanted to watch the world burn and cause as much pain as possible along the way.

And still, despite that, the little hazel eyed beauty was crying over his wretched soul. Her tears spilled down a round little pale face that was marred with more bruises and cuts than there were freckles, his attempted destruction of her tiny malnourished body almost unbearable to see. And yet here she was, her pure soul shining through in her sorrow, in her slew of apologies as they lead her away from the mans half naked body, in the way she cried when she saw the utter destruction she had caused. As the police assessed the scene and put her parents into custody after finding the drugs littered about the scene, which had been an obvious drug distribution site, their hearts broke for the young girl. For it was painfully obvious that she had been suffering at the hands of the people that were supposed to love her the most. And that her way of coping with it all was incredibly dangerous, bottling it all up and pretending she was just fine had many therapists worried. If she was lashing out violently or completely withdrawing into herself, they would be less nervous, as those are more predictable and would give them more of an excuse to watch her more closely. But she wasn't doing any of those things. She was acting like everything was just fine, like she wasn't hurting from the mental damage done to her. Ever polite. Ever sweet. Precious even. And that had many therapists uneasy. After all, how long could she go without losing control again? 

After the conviction of her parents, Reina was bounced from foster home to foster home, some worse than others. She made sure they always knew that she was grateful for what they gave her, even if it was merely a ragged blanket and a pair of too small shoes. But, in the end, it never mattered. They didn't seem to truly want her, always moving, never feeling like she was loved.

At the age of fifteen, she was adopted by a man known as Professor Gregory Harrison. Mr. Harrison had heard of Reina's case through her caseworker, a close friend of his that was concerned for Reina's coping tactics. After the death of his wife and daughter due to his little girl's loss of control over her fire quirk, Mr. Harrison had made it his mission to help those children in need of guidance when it came to understanding and controlling their quirks. He had successfully adopted and taught several children over the years, setting them up for success when they would have otherwise been doomed to become unstable at best. And now, it seemed as though it was Reina's turn. Hearing of her accident, her disposition, and her pure heart, Mr. Harrison knew that she more than deserved a chance at the life that she desired. And so, he brought the young girl to live with him at his home in the middle of the smokey mountains, where they had plenty of room for her to use her quirk and train herself to become what she wanted most in the world, a hero.

"You want to be a pro hero?" Mr. Harrison was shocked at the answer the young girl had shyly given when he had asked what she wanted for her future. She had blushed and nodded, a sad smile gracing her lips.

"Yes sir. More than anything" she had said, looking down at her hands which had curled into fists. "I know I don't seem like a good fit, but there are so many out there that go through hell and no one knows until it's too late. There are so many people that need a hero, but not enough to go around. If I can help lighten that load, even a little, and help people, then that would make me the happiest on the world. Maybe I can save another child from having go through the hell I went through."

The older man couldn't help the smile that erupted across his face. Because it was in that moment that he realized that when it came to Reina Mathers, they had nothing to worry about. She was more stable than they had given her credit for. She was hurting, but she was coping with it in her own way. By channeling it to try and help others some day, it showed that she was more sound in mind than most adults. And there was one thing he was certain of:

"I think you'll make a great hero one day, Reina."

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