Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake."
-Frederick Douglass

A typical day in the life of Denki Kaminari began right at the crack of… whenever the sound of his kids fighting in the other room had grown loud enough that he could no longer ignore it.

He groaned, even though he’d become used to this by now, pushing himself up out of the cocoon of blankets and pillows he’d been using to shield his face from the morning sunlight, wiping the sleep from his eye, and staring at the alarm clock in a soporific stupor.

8:36… How sweet. They let him sleep in today.

Deciding to put his morning shower off till later, he forced himself to get out of bed, socked feet padding clumsily across the cold wooden floors, and pulled open his bedroom door, letting the sound of his bickering children and the mere existence of the outside world finally pull him fully into awakeness.

He regretted it instantly.

“Dad!” his four-year-old son Raidin shouted from the living room the moment he spotted his father wandering sleepily into the kitchen. “Aika’s cheating! Make her stop!”

“Am not!” his seven-year-old daughter shot back, though from the maniacal grin on her face, she was clearly lying. “Just because you’re losing doesn’t make me a cheater! Grow up!”

“I can see your ear! You plugged it into the system-!”

“So? That doesn’t prove anything! You can’t prove that I’m-!”

“You are! You’re making it so you get all the good power-ups and I don’t get any!”

“It’s too early for this,” Denki muttered, scratching at his itchy scalp through his static-charged hair, sticking up in every direction just as it always did. “Aika, get your jack out of the console and stop picking on your brother. Rai, you don’t need to cry, bud, it’s just a game.”

“Fiiine,” Aika groaned, retracting her extendable earlobe and pulling the jack out of their video game console’s USB port. Raidin looked slightly mollified, though he still had tears in his eyes and his pudgy cheeks were red with anger and distress.

Time for a distraction before they blew up again. 

“What do you kids want for breakfast?” he asked, pulling open the fridge.

“Pancakes!”

“Pan- ...Bacon!” Raidin amended hastily, glowering at his sister. Apparently, he had decided he was against agreeing with her today.

“Just bacon?” Aika sneered.

“Hey, I could go for ‘just bacon’.” Denki cut in before his daughter’s teasing could set her brother off again. “Too bad we don’t have any.”

“Ha! Pancakes it is, then!”

“Yeah, we don’t have stuff for that, either,” he supplied, shuffling the contents of their refrigerator and frowning at the sheer lack of anything even remotely edible. Looks like there was a grocery run in their future today. “How did your mom poison both of you into eating all these heavy American foods? Can’t we be a traditional Japanese family and eat, like, miso soup for breakfast?”

“You can make miso soup?” his daughter asked. 

Well, she had him there.

“Ok. So our options are… toast,” both kids let out obnoxious groans as if he’d just informed them they’d be eating gruel, “...or cereal.”

“Cereal.”

“I want cereal!”

“Cereal it is, by popular vote.” He snagged the half-empty bottle of milk out of the fridge and eyed it suspiciously. “But we’ll need to be conservative.”

And thus, another ordinary day began.

On his better days, Denki couldn’t help but admit that he had things pretty good. He had a beautiful wife who he’d been in love with since they were high schoolers, two adorable (though sometimes irritating) kids who he loved more than he ever knew possible, and a gaggle of unbelievably great friends who he got to see fairly regularly. To many people, his life would seem ideal - almost perfect, even.

But then there are some moments, like when he flipped the TV over to the news while his kids got soggy marshmallows all over his clean countertops only to see highlights of a battle last night between a gaggle of villains and the Pro Hero Red Riot that he sometimes found it difficult to keep a smile on his face. 

Once, there had been a time where he’d dreamed of being a Hero, too.

There had also been a time where he’d dreamed of tearing this entire society down and rebuilding it from scratch as something ‘better’.

And this was the result. Neither a Hero nor a revolutionary. Just a stay-at-home dad with a cliched troubled past, a couple of goofy kids, and zero job prospects.

He was happy. He was. If he were being honest, he knew he didn’t deserve what he had.

But that didn’t stop him from sometimes wishing for more.

A couple of hours and a quick shower later saw the family exiting their comfy four-bedroom apartment in one of the nicer parts of the city and heading off toward the nearest grocery store. 

It took them some time to get ready, as Aika kept insisting that Rai had lost her backpack (which she needed for some reason) and Rai needed five separate attempts to get his shoes tied properly. For his part, Denki had donned a tattered old baseball cap and a pair of tacky sunglasses to spice up his faded dad jeans and nondescript yellow T-shirt; not because he had terrible fashion sense (no matter what Mina said), but because it made him a little harder to recognize. 

He knew a few Pros who tried to disguise themselves when they went out (like his wife or Deku), a few Pros for whom it did not matter (Shouji and Tokoyami couldn’t hide themselves if they tried), one Hero who didn’t care and who everyone was too scared to approach and whose name definitely wasn’t Kacchan, and one Pro who would always blandly claim to the people who flocked around her for autographs that they were simply mistaken and that she only just happened to bear an unusual resemblance to the Hero they were all confusing her for. 

To be fair, whenever Hagakure made that claim, it was endlessly hilarious to watch her fans try to find some way to refute it. 

Kaminari wasn’t trying to disguise himself because he was popular, however. If anything, the opposite was true. 

Eventually, however, they were set, taking the elevator down from the sixth floor and waving goodbye to the security guard, Tanjiro, who looked like a bipedal reindeer and could play a mean tenor sax. Kyouka had invited him to more than one jam session, and the man could ‘ sleigh’ . He hadn’t appreciated Denki’s attempt at a pun, but then, most people didn’t.

The apartment complex Denki lived in with his family was a little special, as its occupants were almost entirely made up of professional Heroes and their families. 

Finding a place to live as a Pro Hero could be a challenge. The majority of Pros earned a decent wage for risking their lives every day (and a more-than-decent wage from advertising deals and merchandising), but that didn’t mean that they could all afford to buy up several kilometers of land in the middle of a buzzing metropolitan city like the Todorokis. With constant pressure from the paparazzi and raving fans, and the omnipresent risk of retaliation from spiteful villains, Heroes really only had two options: try to hide in plain sight or pay through the nose for security.

Hence Tanjiro the security guard. He and his coworkers were well-trained experts at keeping the crazies out, and villains thought twice about attacking a building that could be full of multiple Pro Heroes at any given moment of the day. There was still some risk, of course, but that was true no matter where you were living - especially for Heroes who consistently ranked in the top forty, like Kyouka.

Their trip to the nearby grocery store was about as uneventful as it always was. Rai insisted on carrying the basket at first in spite of the fact that it smacked his knees with every step. His static-charged hair, a grey so dark it was almost black (the coloring clearly from his mom’s side of the family), stuck up in every direction as he waddled along, his wide eyes, the color of storm clouds, bouncing frenetically from shelf to shelf as though the next item his dad would ask him to grab was in hiding and would pop out and shout ‘surprise!’ when he least expected it. Somehow, his shoes had come untied again.

Aika kept behind them, her golden eyes fixated on Denki’s phone. Her eyes were the only physical trait she’d seemed to have inherited from him, save for the propensity to generate static that sometimes made strands of her hair stand on end. Everything else made her look like a little Kyouka, from the apathetic shape of her eyes, her default frown, her dark, straight hair that hung to her shoulders, and, most of all, her ears.

She had her mother and maternal grandmother’s earlobes, the kind that ended in jacks and could extend like tentacles. However, Denki’s genes had apparently altered the quirk in such a way that, rather than send or receive sound waves, Aika could plug her jacks into any electrical device and communicate with it, like she was a computer herself. Though she didn’t have her fingers on the screen, she was still scrolling through his phone and controlling the game she was playing with nothing but the earphone jack she had plugged into it.

“Hey, Aika?” he called, stopping to help Rai to his feet when his untied shoelaces finally proved to be his downfall. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, not paying attention.

“Cool, sure. That’s helpful.”

He eyed the colorful assortment of fruits and vegetables set up for display, noting how a nearby grandmotherly woman was carefully picking out what he could only assume were the best and most ripe of the bunch. Eight years of being a dad and cooking for his wife and kids, and he still had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t even know what half of these vegetables were.

What could he make… Curry? That wasn’t that hard, right? Kids made that in school. He’d made it before a few times himself, but for the life of him, could never seem to remember the recipe. He could always find one online… if he ever got his phone back.

“Hey, dad?” Rai asked, reluctantly handing the basket over to Denki to carry. “Is mom gonna be home for dinner tonight?”

Denki tried to hide his wince behind a smile.

“Well, I don’t know, bud. Maybe.”

“Mom’s never home for dinner,” Aika butted in, still staring at the phone. “I don’t know why you always ask when you already know the answer.”

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” Denki admonished, not-unkindly. “You know she’d be home if she could. Her job is really important, and the villains don’t seem to care about dinner time.”

“I know that,” she replied, tone bland. “I didn’t say it was her fault. I was just stating a fact.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, taking off his hat and running a free hand through his hair, watching the way his son’s eyes darted back and forth between his sister and his dad with concern. “...How about spaghetti for dinner tonight? Since you seem to like western food so much.”

At the register, as he was getting ready to pay, the cashier took a moment to squint up curiously at his face as though trying to peer past Denki’s perfectly executed disguise of baseball cap and sunglasses.

“I’m sorry if this seems rude,” she asked, and from her tone, he could tell that she was one of those insufferably nosey types, “but do I… know you from somewhere?”

Denki did his best to keep his trademark thousand-watt smile on his face.

“Uh, well, I do come here often, so…”

“Right, right, of course… That must be it.”

But the look of curiosity didn’t leave her face once until he left the store, and his feeling of discomfort stuck with him even when she was out of sight.

Honestly, he had no one to blame but himself. Ten years ago, every news outlet in Japan had been eager to plaster his face to the front of every news story. Denki Kaminari, the infamous UA Traitor, the boy who had betrayed all of his friends and peers, who had slipped vital information to the villains that had resulted in so much pain and violence on both sides.

It had been years since then, and though many, many other villains had risen up to bury his face and name under the seemingly endless tide of evil, and even though he’d eventually turned against the League to save his friends and had been… mostly pardoned due to his unique circumstances and the lengths he’d gone to to help the Heroes in the end, nearly dying in the process, there were still those with sharp memories of those days who could place his face or his name and remember what it was he had done.

And it didn’t help that the rest of his classmates at UA had gone on to be so prolific. Of his nineteen former classmates, every one of them consistently placed within the top fifty in the Hero Rankings, with five of them consistently holding secure positions in the top ten. Their success as a group was unprecedented, their popularity (especially given their involvement working against the League back in the day) was undeniable, and as a result, the sheer number of interviews and documentaries that aired on weeknight television about them, either as a group or as individuals, or of UA as an institution, was astonishing.

And not one of them could get away with telling the story of their heroic past without bringing up Denki Kaminari, their class’s one-and-only dark spot.

Things might not be so bad if his friends and classmates hadn’t been so popular. Sure, he’d still be dealing with the guilt from his past, and yes, he’d still have the title of ex-criminal hanging around his neck, making it hard to find steady work, but at least sometimes, he’d be able to forget. Or at least pretend to. 

That was harder to do when everyone you cared about was out fulfilling their dreams, the same ones your poor choices stole away from you forever.

He was brought out of his dark reverie by the tugging hand of his son, who was pointing excitedly up into the air as the people on the street around him began to gasp and cheer.

Overhead, the Pro Hero Cellophane swung by, his tape bursting free from his elbows in a powerful stream, latching on to the side of a building and pulling him along through the air like an acrobat.

The people around him were shouting and waving their hands, Aika and Rai among them, but Denki remained still. Sero was one of his closest friends, even after everything Denki had done, and he was always glad to see him. Still, he’d rather not attract his attention while in public if he could get away with it. Even if he was sure his kids would be disappointed.

He wound up not having to worry; Cellophane appeared to not even notice the crowd, quickly swinging away with single-minded determination. He was probably on the way to an incident. He’d ask Kyouka about it later.

“C’mon, guys,” he said, nudging Aika with the bag in his hand. “Let’s send Sero a text later and tell him we saw him, ok?”

The rest of the afternoon proved to be just as normal as everything else.

They got home (and said hello to Tanjiro again), put away their groceries, ate a lunch of rice balls that Denki had prepared the day before for Kyouka to take to work, played a bit of Mario Kart with his kids, and tried to get some work done in his at-home office - though it was really more of a storage space for Kyouka’s music paraphernalia.

The kids bickered a bit more, as per usual, but nothing out of the ordinary. When it was time for dinner, they volunteered to help, and he soon found himself kneading herbs into the raw hamburger meat while Aika chopped mushrooms and Rai assiduously stirred the pot of water that was meant to cook the noodles once it reached a boil. Not because it was needed, but because it kept him occupied and was (probably) harmless.

“Man,” he said, washing his hands beside his daughter at the sink while the tantalizing scent of the cooking meat filled the kitchen air, “did I ever tell you guys that I once took your mom out on a date to this nice Italian place? Their pasta was so good, and they had this crazy garlic bread that-!”

“What’s garlic bread?”

He stopped washing his hands, staring at his daughter like she’d grown an extra head.

“Um, excuse me? Have we never given you garlic bread before?”

She frowned, shaking her head.

“What is it?”

“What-? Well, it’s… it’s bread. Bread with… garlic on it…”

Her frown had only increased in intensity. Clearly, he wasn’t doing his explanation any justice.

“I don’t think I like garlic bread,” Rai piped up from his lone vigil over the still-not-boiling pot.

“But you’ve never even had it.”

“Yeah, but still.”

Dinner was a normal affair. Aika, for whatever reason, felt the need to meticulously cut her noodles into tiny pieces before eating. She didn’t do that with soba or ramen, he pointed out, but her only response was “This is different” before carrying on her merry way. Rai, in contrast, slurped his noodles down with gusto, getting red sauce all over his shirt and face.

After dinner came some much-needed baths, particularly for Rai, followed by the trio sitting down on the couch to watch some TV until bedtime.

When eight o’clock finally rolled around, however, they were reluctant to go.

“But mom still isn’t home yet,” Rai whined, clutching a pillow to his chest and pushing Denki away with his feet, his shoulders braced against the armrest. “We haven’t seen her in forever!”

“Three days,” Aika chimed in from Denki’s other side. He shot her a look and she buried her face back in his phone.

“Daddy, please? Let us stay up just a little bit longer?”

He sighed. It was true, Kyouka had been incredibly busy for the last couple of days. She had said she’d hoped to be home by six tonight, but that clearly hadn’t happened. It was completely normal for her to be late, of course, considering the nature of her job, but… 

Well, he knew she’d want to see the kids too, if she could.

Staying up just a little bit later wasn’t going to cause any problems. They were on summer break, after all. Not that that mattered for Rai, who wasn’t old enough to go to school anyway. 

Rai cheered when Denki told him he could stay up an extra half an hour, though he had his doubts that it would make a difference. Sure enough, before even twenty minutes had passed, Rai had collapsed against Denki’s arm, snoring loudly.

“Poor little guy,” he muttered, lightly ruffling his hair. Kyouka would be heartbroken when she learned how much he’d wanted to see her.

Aika snorted, declaring that she knew he wasn’t going to be able to stay awake, and when Denki announced that it was bedtime after all, she went along without a fuss.

And the rest of the evening proceeded as normal.

He tucked Rai into bed, kissed his daughter good night, cleaned up the kitchen, made sure he had enough leftovers for Kyouka in case she was hungry when she got home, and set himself up in the living room with his laptop, trying to get some extra work done while he waited.

It was about a quarter after one before he heard the front door unlock and his exhausted wife finally stumble her way inside.

This too, unfortunately, was normal.

He waited a moment, not wanting to jump on her as soon as she walked in the door, and in the few seconds’ pause after he heard the door lock behind her came the unmistakable sound of her leaning back against the heavy mahogany wood and letting out a weary sigh. 

He frowned, making sure his translation was at a good spot before saving his work and quietly closing his laptop. She still hadn’t moved from her spot by the door. He couldn’t see it from his position on the couch, which meant she couldn’t see him either, but he had a feeling he could picture her face perfectly. The sound of her sigh gave her away. It always did.

Most people knew that being a Hero was hard. Most people also couldn’t even begin to fathom what that actually meant. It was more than risking your life every day. More than working yourself to exhaustion and being expected to keep going. More than having to put on a brave face or be polite or engage with endless waves of fans or bear harsh, often unfair scrutiny or outright attacks from pretentious reporters looking to profit off of your shortcomings, all with perfect decorum.

It was never being there for a festival at school because there was a robbery in progress. It was missing your anniversary because you were unconscious in the hospital. It was having to break your kid’s heart for the umpteenth time because you’d swore up and down that this year would be different, this year, you’d be able to spend time with them on their birthday, or on a holiday, or just any day, only to have to cancel because some psychopath was trying to blow up a school.

It was coming home after a solid day of being everyone else’s source of strength and finally being able to break down because today hadn’t gone so good. Today, you weren’t able to save everyone. Today, you failed.

And getting up again tomorrow with unhealed injuries and too-little rest so you can try all over again.

Kyouka always did her best to put on a brave face while she was home. She didn’t get to spend enough time with the kids as it was, and she didn’t want what little time she did have to be weighed down with baggage from her job.

Finally, she pushed herself away from the door and walked up the short hallway, rounding the corner into the living room.

“I’ve told you time and time again that you don’t need to wait up for me,” she said by way of greeting, though there was a rote nature to her words that indicated that she didn’t really mean what she was saying.

“Yeah, well. Work a job where I don’t have to worry about ‘if’ you’ll come home, and we’ll talk.”

She looked awful. Still better than most people (hey, his wife was a looker and he wasn’t too proud to gloat), but still. Her face was pale, her eyes drawn and weary, her shoulders slumped. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries and her costume didn’t look all that dirty or torn. No battles, then. At least, none that would account for her exhaustion.

It was funny how little her outfit had changed since high school. But then, much like his own had been, her costume wasn’t exactly too complicated. Comfortable pants, a practical jacket, a t-shirt of some band she liked (though nowadays, it was her own band, for promotional purposes). Her boots had been custom fit with high-powered speakers, and she had extra ones on her wrists that could detach and be moved about by her ears, but other than her eye paint and headphones, she looked mostly normal. The only major difference between school-Kyouka and adult-Kyouka was that she was a little older.

She was chewing her lip, though, and had stayed by the hall rather than joining him on the couch. Judging from the way her jacks were writhing, twisting around in circles like snakes, she was anxious.

Getting Kyouka to open up was a delicate process. She basically had two modes; angry venting or dark brooding. If it was the first, it was just a matter of letting her know you were willing to be her sounding board. For the latter, you had to play a waiting game. Denki wasn’t very good at the waiting game.

Hoping today was a ‘venting’ day, he offered up a simple “Bad day?” in the hopes that she would reciprocate. 

He was in luck. She stopped chewing her lip.

“...I take it you haven’t seen the news?”

Well, that couldn’t be good. Though she still didn’t look like she’d been in a fight. What could have happened to her that would have been newsworthy?

“No, sorry. I’ve been trying to catch up on work-”

But Kyouka started shaking her head halfway through his sentence.

“No, no, it’s fine. When you still hadn’t messaged me by the time I was allowed to leave, I figured you hadn’t seen. Did no one else try to contact you? I thought about calling, but…”

Denki padded his pockets, looking confused.

“Ah- Aika. She must still have my phone. I forgot to take it back from her before she went to sleep. Sorry, I know we have a rule about that, but-”

“It’s fine,” Kyouka butted in, sounding somewhat frazzled. “Don’t worry about that now. Denki… You… You may want to sit down for this…”

He glanced down at his lap from his already-seated position on the couch, a spot he had not moved from for hours, then looked back up at his wife.

“...Alright, I think I got that covered.”

He’d hoped he’d at least get a smirk out of that, but Kyouka barely even seemed to notice that he’d already been sitting down, let alone his response.

“It’s about… your father.”

Something in his navel twisted unpleasantly. He swallowed.

“I hope you’re going to tell me that he’s dead,” he said, the humor for once completely gone from his voice. Even without superhuman hearing, he was certain she could hear the lie, no matter how much he wished he meant it. 

She shook her head.

“There was an… attack… at the prison he was kept in. He’s escaped.”

Denki could only stare, absolutely dumbstruck.

“...and the police think he’s probably going to try to come for you.”

Chapter Text

Denki’s parents had been so proud when he’d been accepted into UA. He could remember their smiles, even now, years and what basically counted as an entire war later. 

His mother, her long, silky hair a blonde so light it was nearly white, and from whom he’d inherited his thousand-watt smile, had gripped him in the tightest hug he could ever remember receiving, red-cheeked and teary-eyed as she gushed over just how much he’d grown up. 

His father had been at her side, staring at the acceptance letter and holographic recording device as though he couldn’t believe they were real. His eyes, a bright, electric blue beneath his fringe of salt-and-pepper hair, were practically falling out of his head like an old-fashioned cartoon. He’d been supportive of Denki when he told them he wanted to take the exam, but both of them knew he hadn’t actually thought he’d get in. To be fair, Denki hadn’t been too confident either. 

But the pure, disbelieving laugh of delight that tore itself from his still-gaping mouth as he threw the letter down on their kitchen table and swallowed Denki and his wife up in a rib-cracking embrace would forever remain locked away in Denki’s mind as one of the happiest moments of his life. 

Of course, his parents hadn’t been happy because his son was going to be a Hero. 

They’d been happy because this meant that the Meta Liberation Army would have yet another member hidden amongst the ranks of Japan’s heroic elite. They’d have a mole in the school itself, and then later, when he went Pro, they’d have one more agent secretly disguised as one of society’s foundational pillars. Someone who could pass along top-secret info. Someone who could spread their founder Destro’s ideals to the masses and make his age-old dream of Quirk Liberation come true one step faster. 

Both of his parents had been born and raised in Deika, the city that was essentially entirely composed of MLA members or their sympathizers. They’d grown up, much as he had, being taught and raised to believe that modern society was corrupt, that laws regulating and restricting Quirk usage were monstrous and inhumane, that the only way to obtain freedom was the total reorganization of society itself. By any means necessary. 

Denki getting into UA was a big deal. Not because it meant he was on the fast-track to a bright and successful future, but because it meant their son was stepping forward to fight on the front lines of their cause. Because it meant that the leaders of their cult would look favorably upon their family thanks to Denki’s exemplary contributions. 

And while Denki had believed in the MLA’s teachings himself (or thought he had at the time), it would have been a lie to say that he was excited to have the chance to go off to such a prestigious high school because he was supporting some grand cause. 

Honestly, he’d just been excited for the chance to get out of Deika. To see a bit more of the world, to start his high school life without his parents or annoying little sister breathing down his neck or cramping his style. To make new friends (and maybe a girlfriend?) and have his own, awesome high school life while bragging about how he’d actually done it - he’d actually gotten in! Even though everyone else had doubted him!

He hadn’t actually begun questioning the things his parents had taught him until the League of Villains began attacking his class with seemingly single-minded fervor. 

Beforehand, villains (at least small-time ones) had always been sort of held up by the MLA as martyrs. Not praised exactly, but sympathized with and pitied. They were examples of the ways in which society was flawed, of how restricting the common man’s Quirk usage ultimately led to this kind of violence and immorality. But the more time that Denki spent with his classmates, learning from professionals, interning and seeing the world from their viewpoint, and occasionally fighting for his life alongside his friends, the more he began to doubt. 

Did it matter what the root cause was when the end result of their actions was that innocent people, caught in the crossfire or sometimes the intended targets, wound up injured or killed? Would liberating Quirk usage for everyone actually lessen the number of villains in the world? Wouldn’t it just create more violence and chaos? Wouldn’t Heroes then be needed more than ever before?

Sometimes, he’d lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling in a building surrounded by Heroes-in-training fighting for a brighter future and wonder what it was he was supposed to be fighting for. Wondering why he felt so at home in a place that was so very, very different from the home he’d always known.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected to grow as close with his classmates as he actually did. The constant attacks from the outside and being forced to move into dorms together certainly helped, as did being away from Deika for a prolonged period of time, but… Sharing a living space, hanging out together every day, bonding over difficult homework assignments, fighting over stupid things, struggling to stay alive when yet another villain attacked… It was astonishing to him, even now, how quickly his classmates had gone from strangers to friends to basically siblings over the course of only a few months. He never even had the chance to grow homesick or miss his family because he’d gained a whole new family right here. A new family that was slowly showing him a whole new side of the world that he’d never even considered. 

And then the news arrived. Secretly, from his parents themselves, over the clandestine communication device created exclusively for him by Skeptic, one of the MLA’s leaders. 

The MLA had undergone some massive changes. Their leader had stepped down. He’d been replaced by Tomura Shigaraki and they had been absorbed into the League of Villains, operating under a new name: the PLF, or the Paranormal Liberation Front. 

And what was more shocking than that, more shocking than the realization that one of the scariest, most evil villains his class had come up against had just gained a massive boost in support and man-power, more shocking than the realization that this twisted man now essentially had Denki’s family securely within his all-corroding grasp… More shocking than anything was the sheer joy he heard in his mother’s voice when she told him the news. 

She was delighted. Shigaraki, the successor of the infamous All For One, would be able to take their dream to new heights. Destro’s wish would be achieved now, faster than ever. In their own lifetime. And they’d be able to be a part of it. Denki would be able to be a part of it.

He’d always known that his mother had been by far the biggest supporter of the MLA in their family. He and his father and sister had been followers, of course, but his mother had been absolutely devout. She’d sold her soul to Destro’s dream, and had always yearned to join the ranks of the elite soldiers, to be a leader in the MLA’s secret, ongoing fight. 

So when she passed on his most recent orders, ones essentially given from Shigaraki and the League themselves, the people who had tried to kill him and his friends on multiple occasions, who had put Jirou and Hagakure and Deku in the hospital, who had kidnapped Bakugou, who had nearly killed All Might, and did so with such a bright, proud smile… 

That was the first time Denki had truly felt like he was being torn in two. 

The League wanted him - his mother wanted him - to betray his friends. At a pivotal moment, allowing the League (she called them the PLF, but he knew better) to catch the Heroes in a vice. People could die. Pros, mainly. Possibly civilians. Maybe even students. If something went wrong, if his friends somehow got caught up in all of it - and let’s face it, when were they not caught up in all of it…?

He felt like vomiting. 

That feeling of sickness stayed with him for the days leading up to the planned betrayal, only made worse every time that somebody tried interacting with him. Whenever Kirishima threw a brotherly arm around his shoulders, when Mina would try to include him in a joke, when Mineta would sit down beside him to vent about their classes, or when Yaomomo or Tokoyami would pull him aside with concern in their eyes to ask if he was feeling ok or if he needed to see the nurse. 

It almost became too much when Aizawa finally pulled him out of class during one of their Hero lessons and ordered that he go visit Recovery Girl, and it was Jirou of all people who offered to escort him there. He could remember the concern in her eyes that she tried to hide behind her typical facade of faux-insults and taunts, the mask slipping in earnest when, for once, he didn’t take the bait. 

Just before leaving him outside the door of the infirmary, she put a tentative hand on his shoulder and mumbled, cheeks red, clearly outside of her comfort zone, “Hey… You know you can… talk… t-to me, if you need to. Yeah?”

He couldn’t remember what he’d responded at the time, but the conversation ended with her walking away. If only he’d opened up that day. If only he’d taken her up on her offer. Maybe now… things might be different. 

But he didn’t. He told himself at the time that he couldn’t risk it. His mother may have completely bought into Shigaraki’s insane plan, but regardless, she and his father and sister were essentially hostages, even if they didn’t know it. If Denki didn’t go along, if he refused, Shigaraki might take it out on them - at least threaten him with their safety if he tried to say no. His friends all had each other and the school and a country full of Heroes watching their backs. His parents and sister only had him. Him, and a gang of delusional cultists led by a literal terrorist.

So when the moment came, when he played his hand, when the PLF and League members rushed in and attacked the school, throughout all of it, all he could remember was the sound of his heart, thundering in his ears, washing out all other noise in a dull, white roar. 

As they retreated, fleeing from reinforcements, their job done, the school half-destroyed, he watched from the blackened confines of a villain’s warp gate, numb, as the faces of his friends, half-hidden in the smoke and flames of their once-shared home, drew further and further away.

Bakugou looked furious. Kirishima disbelieving. Sero confused. Mina distraught. But every one of them shared the same look of hurt and betrayal. 

But it was Jirou from whose face he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. Her characteristic glare had turned harsh, red-rimmed and streaming with tears. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl of defiance. If ‘loathing’ could be summed up in an image, this would be it. That same hatred and disgust she displayed so brazenly on her face that day he could feel curdling inside his gut.

The school was destroyed. People had been killed. How many, he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter.

He had done this. This was his fault. 

And he could never take it back again.

The moment stretched out uncomfortably as Denki stared as his wife and his wife stared back, her words hanging in the air, prickling across his skin like static. 

His father had been broken out of prison… and might be coming for him…?

His first feeling was anxiety, rising up his chest like bile. Coming for him meant coming for his family. Aika and Rai were too little - were always going to be too little - to deal with this. Were they safe? Could they stay here? Was there somewhere he could send them where he knew they’d be protected, at least until… until…

A second thought occurred to him, and this one had him jolting out of his seat, banging his shin on the coffee table in his mad rush to cross the room. 

“Whoa, Denki! Hold up!” His wife’s hands on his chest stopped him in place, her expression alarmed, but the sheer panic had his heart racing painfully in his throat. 

“Aika!” he gasped, struggling to articulate his fears in a way that made cohesive sense. 

“They’re fine,” Kyouka tried to say, making a valiant attempt at a soothing tone, “I checked when I got in - I could hear them breathing-”

“She has my phone!”

Breaking free of his wife’s grasp, Denki brushed passed her and thundered down the hall on socked feet, reaching Aika’s door, gently pushing it open, hoping she was asleep-

The lights were off, though he could still see her dark bed frame and the posters of her mother’s band tacked up on the walls through the glow of his phone that was resting beside her pillow. Through the screen’s pale blue illumination, he could see his daughter’s face, eyes closed, mouth partially agape as she slept. The scene was entirely too peaceful considering the sheer terror he’d felt moments before. 

As quietly as he could, Denki entered the room, careful to avoid the veritable minefield of books and clothing and toys strewn about the floor. He could see the screen of his phone clearly after a few steps. Cartoons. She’d been watching cartoons as she fell asleep. 

Gently, he scooped his phone up and, with as much care as was humanly possible, knowing how sensitive his wife and daughter’s earphone jacks could be, he slowly pulled hers from the device. 

Aika frowned, her brows and lips scrunching up in distaste as she squirmed on the bed, but a moment later, after all remained still and she was still asleep, he allowed himself to exit the room and gently close the door behind him. 

Kyouka was standing nearby, looking anxious. Denki closed the streaming app and opened the web browser, giving the history a cursory once-over before closing that, too. He’d had messages. Multiple messages, thankfully unread, from nearly everyone in his old class. Most of them seemed vague, clearly wanting to check on him but also not wanting to give away what had happened if he hadn’t heard yet. Aika shouldn’t have been able to guess what happened just from seeing them, but…

He let out a breath that only sounded half as frazzled as he felt. 

“I don’t… I don’t think she knows.”

Kyouka let out a sigh of relief, but Denki could feel the familiar sensation of pressure building up in his chest, like something heavy was sitting on him. 

“I’ll have to tell her,” he said, cradling the phone in his hand like it was his daughter and refusing to meet his wife’s eye. “Sooner, rather than later.”

Honestly, it was a miracle that she hadn’t figured it out. Nobody he knew talked about it, as a rule, and he never let his kids watch those ‘Looking Back’ TV specials about their mother or their friends, all in an attempt to keep his past a secret for as long as possible. Considering what her Quirk was, however, and how long she spent on his phone… All she had to do was search his or his mother’s name on the internet one day, and she would know. She would know everything. It would be better if she found out from him. 

He was scared, though. Scared of telling her the truth. About her grandparents. About him. 

Kyouka, as always, could see right through him. 

“She loves you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and her earphone jacks around his neck. She was the best girlfriend, she used to tell him, because she gave two hugs for the price of one.

“I know,” he replied, but couldn’t bring himself to continue. 

He knew she loved him. He knew. He loved his father, too, despite everything. But that didn’t mean that he ever wanted to see him again. 

He didn’t want him and Aika or Rai to end up that way. He didn’t think he could handle that. She was already drawing away from Kyouka. If she pulled away from him, too...

He needed to stop fixating on this or it was going to swallow him whole. 

“So,” he asked when they separated, voice rougher than he’d been expecting, shoving his phone in his pocket and pulling his wife back towards the kitchen so they didn’t wake their kids, “what are the updates about… about my father? I know you can’t tell me everything, but…”

He flipped the lights on in the kitchen as they entered, and the too-bright fluorescent lighting made his eyes hurt. For want of something to do with his hands, he leaned forward against the countertop, splaying out his fingers against the cold grey soapstone and watching as his wife rummaged around for something to drink in the fridge. She pulled out the empty milk bottle and grimaced. 

“Well, not a whole lot as of yet,” she replied, leaving the empty bottle on the counter and selecting the purified water pitcher instead. “Word about the attack on the prison didn’t reach our agency until this afternoon, and we were all sent out immediately to participate in the manhunt. That’s why I was home so late.”

She poured herself a glass of water and Denki nodded. He had assumed as much. 

“Any word on who broke him out?”

She shook her head. 

“Whoever it was, they didn’t catch them on their surveillance cameras. The police suspect that it’s probably some old PLF members who escaped custody, but that’s mostly based on who your father was. But he was never a leader in the organization, so…”

They were grasping at straws, right. It made logical sense to connect his father with the PLF, seeing as he was a member, but Kyouka was right - he’d been about as low-ranking as one could be. True, none of the Leaders had survived, so it was tough to say who any potential PLF survivors would rally around now, but… his father? That made about as much sense as picking Denki to have been the Class President back in school. His father didn’t have the temperament, the talent, or the dedication, and on top of that, he’d been in prison. If they were going to reform the PLF, it made more sense to do it around someone who managed to stay out of jail.

If that was what they were running with, Denki could only assume that meant that they literally had nothing to go on. 

He sighed, staring down at the countertop, lost in thought. None of this made sense. Who would go through the effort of breaking his father out of jail, and why? He was a nobody. A dangerous nobody, sure, but so were most villains. Aside from giving Denki a heart-attack, how did this benefit anyone?

“Was anyone else broken out aside from him?”

“A handful of others. All PLF members, but none of any real note.”

So it wasn’t just his father, then. That made more sense, but… well, obviously, his father was the only one whose escape mattered to him. That other escaped PLF members were on the loose hardly registered.

Kyouka set her cup down and leaned against the counter in front of him. 

“It was… suggested… that it might have been Emiko.”

Denki felt his shoulders tense. The image of a frizzle-haired, freckle-splattered girl with familiar golden eyes flickered through his head, and with it came a painful twinge of hope. 

“...Emi is dead,” he whispered after a moment, and Kyouka sighed again. 

“We don’t know that for sure, Denki. Her body was never found-”

He shook his head roughly and turned away. 

She was right, of course. There was no proof that Emi hadn’t survived, and if she was still alive, she would be number one on the list of people likely to have broken his father out of prison. But when her body hadn’t been recovered from the wreckage, when she wasn’t reported as having been captured… There’d been a manhunt issued for her and the other PLF members who were unaccounted for, but after years of nothing, not a sighting, not a peep… 

He didn’t want to believe that his little sister was dead. But there had been so much going on, Shigaraki had been disintegrating people left and right, without a care for ‘allies’ caught in the crossfire… He’d just assumed the worst. 

Was it terrible that he hoped it was her? Because it meant that maybe he’d get to see her again?

Then again, if he ever did see her again, after everything that had gone down… It wasn’t likely to be a happy reunion. There was a better-than-decent chance that she might try to kill him, brother or no. More than one PLF survivor had made the attempt over the years, and she had a better reason than most.

“We should get some sleep,” he finally said, ending the conversation since he knew it would get him nowhere. “You probably need to be up early in the morning.”

“Actually,” she replied as she poured her water down the drain despite not having even taken a sip, setting her cup in the sink, “they gave me tomorrow off.”

He blinked in surprise as he followed her out of the kitchen and down the dark hall toward their bedroom. 

“They did? While you’re in the middle of a manhunt?”

“I think they were trying to be respectful. Y'know, since he is my father-in-law after all.”

Right. Not that he’d ever told his father he’d gotten married. Word had likely reached him in the prison at some point, however. 

“Not that I’m complaining,” he began as he closed their bedroom door behind them, “but your Quirk would be really useful for this situation, wouldn’t it?”

“Eh, yeah,” she answered, having already removed her headphones and jacket, now working on the button on her pants, “but it’s not like I’m the only Hero around with a sensory Quirk, and by this point, every Hero in the country should be on the lookout. Also…”

“Also…?”

She grimaced before turning to shoot her husband an apologetic smile. 

“Also, they decided they want you and the kids to have a Hero on bodyguard duty until we get this sorted out.”

He opened his mouth to argue about the invasion of privacy and how he didn’t need a bodyguard, only to hesitate. 

“Wait. You’re my bodyguard?”

“Well, someone has to stop you from getting killed, and since I have years of experience…”

He snorted. So she was technically on duty tomorrow… but also not, because she’d just be spending time with her husband and kids. 

That was actually kinda cool. 

“I,” she continued, somewhat muffled as she pulled her T-shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but her socks and underwear (and the red swooshes she painted on her cheeks), “am going to take a shower.”

“Well, I would hope so.”

“And since I have the morning off, I was thinking… Maybe you’d want to join me?”

She had a flirty, almost seductive tone to her voice, but it was thrown off by the bags under her eyes and the exhausted set to her shoulders. She was either trying to find a way to distract him from the current situation or raise his spirits. It was cute, and it had been a while. Another downside to being a married Hero? Your sex life was basically non-existent. He loved her for trying, but… 

Unable to fight the amused smirk on his face, though not for the reason she no-doubt assumed, he said, “Tempting. Unbelievably tempting. But something tells me you’re going to pass out under the showerhead and just want me to be there to catch you.”

“Ugh,” she said in faux-exasperation, chucking her shirt as his face and stepping into the bathroom. “Married Denki is no fun. He knows all my secrets.”

After changing himself, plugging in his now mostly-dead phone, turning off the light and crawling into bed, he found himself lying on his back, staring at the ceiling as the sounds of running water drifted out to him. He was tired, but he had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. 

Somewhere out there, right now, his father was free. He could be anywhere. He could even be here, in the city, assuming he’d somehow found transportation. The same city where his wife worked. Where his kids played. Where they’d built a life together. 

What was the reason for his break out? Was someone trying to gather PLF members together for some kind of resurgence? Did they want revenge, against Denki for betraying them and against his friends for being the central Heroes responsible for putting a stop to Shigaraki and the League once and for all? 

If so, had his father’s hatred for Denki really gone so far…?

He wasn’t exactly afraid of his father. In a stand-up fight, he was pretty sure he could take the man, and not just because he had to be nearly in his fifties by now. It was pretty clear that that wasn’t what was going to happen, however; if he wanted Denki dead, he’d do it in some way that was more underhanded. And if this turned into something more serious, if he decided to target Denki’s family, if other PLF survivors were involved… 

Hopefully, he’d wake up tomorrow to discover that he’d been found overnight and this would all eventually blow over. He wouldn’t be able to stop the resurgence of stories about him and his stint as the UA traitor from playing on TV, however. And no matter how this played out, he had a very painful conversation to have with his daughter sometime very soon. 

When the shower ended and Kyouka exited the bathroom several minutes later, Denki rolled onto his side to face her. Normally, they weren’t very cuddly while they slept. Kyouka wasn’t a particularly touchy person to begin with, and she so often had bruises or cuts from her Hero work that cuddling could be uncomfortable. 

Tonight, however, he hoped that she’d at least want to be a little close. He was surprised, however, when she crawled into bed and, rather than submit to the role of the little spoon as he’d hoped, she instead turned to face him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down into her chest. 

“I’m going to keep you all safe,” she whispered, and there was a surprising ferocity to her voice that made him blink. 

This whole time, he’d been thinking of his father breaking out of jail as his problem. Obviously, however, he was her husband, which meant that, even if she’d never met her father-in-law before, at least not off the battlefield, this was still very much her problem, too. 

This wasn’t like last time at all, where he felt torn between two families. This time, he knew where he stood. This time, he wasn’t alone. 

He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, pulling her in close as their legs tangled together, and was surprised to find a few minutes later that he was actually drifting off to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Denki awoke to the tranquil and idyllic sound of songbirds chirping outside his window. Which was odd, considering how they lived in the middle of a bustling city. 

He let his bleary eyes slide open reluctantly. Judging from the dim light that illuminated his bedroom from behind closed blinds, it was morning already. Memories of last night’s conversation flickered through his mind, along with the accompanying sense of tension, and with a lethargic groan, he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

He fumbled his phone up from off of the nightstand and checked the time. 

7:08 AM. 

Figures. He finally got a chance to enjoy lay-in with his wife, and wouldn’t you know it, his body decided to wake up early. 

Stupid dad, ruining everything. 

Speaking of…

He unlocked his phone and pulled up the web browser, checking all the news sites he could think of. Yup, the breakout yesterday was making headlines. Not surprising. Unfortunately, there was nothing about him having been found or captured yet. Just his luck. 

Lowering his phone, Denki turned to examine his still-sleeping wife. She was on her side, face buried in her pillow, the hem of her tank top riding up and her mouth agape. Honestly, she and Aika looked so alike, it was frightening. He briefly considered the merits of laying back down and enjoying what time they had left before the kids woke up, but the anxiety in his chest was making him fidgety and he didn’t want to accidentally wake her. She almost never got to sleep in.

As carefully as he could manage, Denki extracted himself from his blankets and crawled out of bed, ghosting out of the bedroom on white-socked feet as silently as was humanly possible. If he was going to be awake, he might as well make the most of it. Maybe he could surprise Kyouka with breakfast in bed? That was the kind of sappy thing good husbands were supposed to do, right? That’s what TV and movies had always taught him, and they hadn’t steered him wrong yet. 

Thoughts of breakfast reminded him of his conversation yesterday with his kids where both had requested pancakes. Kyouka loved pancakes. Perfect. 

Only, he remembered as he padded into the kitchen and pulled open the door to their fridge, they didn’t have the ingredients necessary to make pancakes. Why didn’t he buy them when he went out yesterday? What a lack of forethought. 

He could always get dressed and head over to the store now, only… well, with his mad dad on the loose, heading out in public alone was probably a big no-no. Kyouka would rip him a new one. Plus, he was way too lazy to bother getting showered and changed, and he’d probably wake Kyouka in the process. 

Pulling his phone out of the pockets of his flannel pajama pants, he decided to be financially irresponsible and order the ingredients delivered. He knew a few Heroes who did this on the regular, when they were too hard or too lazy to be disguised. It was definitely more convenient. Laziness had its perks. The extra price of getting a drone to fly said ingredients from a grocery store up to the balcony of your apartment, however… well, Kyouka didn’t have to know everything. 

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, he got the notification that the drone had arrived, and he opened the door to their balcony and stepped out into the bright mid-summer sunshine to greet the drone, startling several birds in the process. 

He watched them fly off with a slight frown. Those were songbirds. They wouldn’t normally hang out here, unless… of course. Kouda. He’d probably sent them to keep an eye out for trouble. He loved his friends, but they could be overprotective sometimes. As if Kyouka wasn’t already here. 

The drone, a flat, rectangular looking fellow with round LED eyes and a dark, chitinous body dropped the package at Denki’s feet with zero care as to the safety of its contents, gave him a pre-recorded thanks for the order, and then zoomed away. 

He sighed. Hopefully, the eggs were ok. 

It was only when he bent down to pick up the box that it occurred to him that this might have been a mistake. After all, he was supposedly the target of an escaped villain who may or may not have accomplices. Fanatical, cult-following, literal terrorist accomplices who had every reason to want Denki dead. Should he really be ordering things to be delivered to his apartment? What if it had been tampered with? 

He stewed over that thought for a moment before shaking it off. There was no way. It was too soon after his father’s escape, and how would anyone have known he was going to be ordering something that morning? It was spur-of-the-moment. He was being paranoid. 

Lifting the box, Denki turned to walk back inside and let out a yelp of surprise when he found Aika and Rai standing right behind him. 

His daughter blinked up at him owlishly. 

“What are you doing?”

He let out a frazzled laugh. 

“Ah… A-Aika, Rai. You’re… awake…”

“What’s that?” she pressed on, either not noticing or not caring about his odd behavior. 

“Oh. Well, uh... “ He stepped around his kids and headed over to the kitchen counter, placing the package down with a soft thump. “Remember yesterday when you said you wanted pancakes?”

His kids followed, climbing up onto the bar seats across from him. 

“So you ordered some? For delivery?”

“Yeah. I mean, the stuff to make pancakes. Why not?” He flashed her a cheesy smile as he ripped the box open and began extracting the eggs (miraculously still whole), flour, sugar, and syrup, placing them on the counter in front of him, pulling the strawberries away when Rai immediately reached for them. 

Aika quirked an eyebrow and Denki silently prayed she wouldn’t ask why he didn’t just walk to the store. It was too early for creative excuse-making.

“Mom is going to be so mad,” she said instead, snickering to herself. “That had to be so expensive.”

“Well, what mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he replied, tossing the now-empty box off to the side and rummaging around through the cabinets, looking for a bowl he could mix the batter in. “It’ll be our little secret. Besides, I’m mostly doing this for her.”

There was a pause in which Denki clambered down onto the floor, mentally bemoaning his old-man knees as he extracted a suitable bowl and a heavy cast-iron frying pan from the back of a cupboard. When he got back to his feet, Aika was staring at him in surprise. 

“Wait. Mom’s home?”

“Yup,” he replied, then instantly threw himself forward across the counter to grab Rai’s arm before he could rush off towards the bedroom. “Wait! Wait wait wait, bud, mom’s still asleep. She got back really late last night, so let’s let her sleep in, ok?”

“Fiiine,” Rai grumbled, returning to his seat and resting his chin in his arms, looking put-out. 

“While we wait, how about you two help me make breakfast so we can surprise your mom?”

“Ok!” Rai shouted, perking up again just as Aika said, “No thanks.”

He sent his daughter a significant look, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“Whatever. But I get to lick the spoon.”

“These are pancakes,” Denki said, confused, as his kids came over to join him. “You don’t lick pancake batter.”

“I’ll lick whatever I want,” she replied, indignant, clearly more upset that her dad was telling her no to something than she was about what was being denied, and Denki experienced this odd moment where there were so many possible responses to his daughter’s poorly-worded retort and yet none that didn’t make him feel horribly uncomfortable and the only recourse was to let his brain reboot and pretend she hadn’t said anything. 

Ten minutes later, Kyouka finally stumbled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to the warm sounds of laughter and the buzz of cartoons playing in the background. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she found her husband and kids all huddled around the stove as Denki tried to help Rai flip the pancake he was trying to cook. 

“Alright, bud, just stick the spatula underneath - no, lower - do it flat, not like a scoop - ok, yeah, now just gently twist your wrist-”

With entirely too much gusto and a warrior’s cry, Rai twisted his entire arm, slapping the half-cooked pancake down with excessive force. Only half of it landed in the pan, the other half ripping off and splattering wetly all over the top of the stove, leaving globs of batter speckled all over Denki’s shirt and Aika’s face. 

Aika immediately burst out laughing. 

“He missed again! He’s so bad at this!” she crowed in delight, wiping her face off on her dad’s shirt.

“Hey, come on. Everyone starts somewhere. Don’t cry, Rai, you can try again. Aika, don’t be so loud, you’re going to wake up your mom-”

“Too late.”

Three heads snapped to the side. 

Rai, whose eyes had been filled with tears moments before from the combination of his failure and his sister’s teasing, immediately brightened up, leaping off of the chair he’d been standing on and throwing himself at his mom with a shout. 

Kyouka scooped him up in her arms with a laugh, giving him an exaggeratedly loud kiss on the cheek before setting him back down ruffling his untameable hair, turning her attention to her daughter. 

“What?” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “Do I not get a good morning hug from you?”

Aika rolled her eyes again and shuffled forward, though Denki noted with a smile the way she kept her face tilted down out of embarrassment, and how, when she hugged her mom, she did it with both her arms and her jacks. And she only grumbled when Kyouka kissed her cheek. 

“Does daddy want a kiss, too?” Kyouka joked, releasing Aika and stepping closer, but Denki pretended to fend her off with his spatula. 

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m mad at you. You totally ruined my super awesome ‘breakfast in bed’ plan that I had going. I was going to earn myself so many husband points.”

“Well, I can always go back to bed,” she said with a low laugh, grabbing his arm and stepping up on tiptoes to give his cheek a peck as well. 

“Ew,” Aika noted from off to the side. 

“So, pancakes, huh?” Kyouka asked, picking up the chair Rai had been standing on and returning it to its place as Denki resumed his watch over the frying pan. “Busy morning? What’s the occasion?”

“Can’t a man do something nice for his family?” he replied imperiously, earning an exaggerated eye-roll from his wife.

“Dad ordered ingredients through a drone and didn’t want us to tell you,” Aika chimed in immediately, completely unprovoked, and Denki spluttered. 

“I- hey! Aika!”

Kyouka snickered, taking a seat at the bar in between her kids while Denki gave his daughter the evil eye.

“You know, one day, you’re going to have a secret that you want me to keep from mom, and then this moment is going to come back to bite you in the butt.”

“Yeah, sure,” Aika retorted dryly. 

“Guess who took my phone with her to bed last night even though she knows she’s not supposed to?”

“Hey!”

Denki lifted his hands into the air with a face that said ‘You brought this on yourself’, and Aika huffed in annoyance. 

“It’s ok,” Kyouka whispered, giving one of Aika’s jacks a tug with her own, “I already knew.”

“So… I’m not in trouble?”

Before she could answer, Denki turned around with the plate full of already-finished pancakes only to gawk as he found his wife and kids had already eaten their way through half of the strawberries. 

“Hey! Quit that! Those are for the pancakes!”

Kyouka and Aika donned identical looks of guilt, but Rai continued chomping down on his as though he hadn’t a care in the world. 

Denki sighed, setting the plate down. Why did he even try?

“Well, it’s… fine, I guess. But they were supposed to go on the pancakes.”

“I don’t like strawberries,” Rai chimed in, his lips and chin completely red. 

His parents and sister stared.

“Rai… you’re eating strawberries right now.”

“Yeah, but… Yeah, but I don’t like them on pancakes. I like them not on pancakes.”

“Good to know,” Kyouka joked, spearing another strawberry on the end of one of her jacks while Aika snickered and began helping herself to the pancakes. 

And thus, for the first time in over a week, Denki had a meal together with his whole family.

It wasn’t that Kyouka was absolutely never home. He usually saw her once a day, barring those terrible days where a big-name villain attack or natural disaster kept her occupied or if she was sent out of town on a special assignment. But ever since Aika had grown old enough to start going to school, the times in which their whole family could be together had dwindled significantly. Kyouka’s hours were random, often unpredictable, and subject to change at the drop of the hat if an incident required her attention. And if the only time she had off was in the middle of the afternoon, or in the dead of night, then she and Aika would miss each other entirely. 

And it was clear to Denki, even now as they joked around over breakfast, that it was starting to have an effect on Aika.

Aika was different from most kids her age. To be fair, most of his friends’ kids were. Your average kid dreamed of growing up to be a Hero because it seemed like something fantastical and amazing, like something out of a movie. They were envious of kids like Aika who had Heroes for parents because they thought it was something neat to brag about, something that made them ‘cooler’ than other kids. 

For the kids of actual Heroes, however, it was anything but a novelty. How they viewed having a Hero for a parent could be a bit of a toss-up, and was always a reflection of how they viewed their parents themselves. 

Some of them said they wanted to be Heroes too because they thought they’d get more attention from parents who weren’t always there. Others pendulum swung in the other direction, saying they hated Heroes, though usually for the same reason. 

Aika wasn’t quite old enough to have any real ideas on where she wanted to take her future, but as she grew closer to puberty, it was obvious to him that the effect of her mother’s frequent absence from the home was starting to manifest themselves in her behavior. 

She’d developed a tendency recently to criticize Kyouka when she wasn’t around, which was most of the time. Her statements never came across as deliberately cruel, but it was obvious that she was beginning to fixate on all of the aspects of her mother that she found less than ideal, and had correctly associated most of them with her job. Kyouka wasn’t around enough, was unable to spend time with her or her brother, to go to school events, to celebrate birthdays, or to even eat meals together. 

Aika wasn’t quite old enough to understand why her mother did the things she did or to really begin processing her feelings. But she was just starting to be old enough to question. 

She still had her father, who was always around, the one silver lining about not being able to hold down a steady job, but Kyouka’s unwelcome announcement last night had thrown a potential wrench into his daughter’s relationship with him as well. 

If she found out the truth - that he’d been a villain, that he’d come from a family of villains, that they’d once fought against her mom and all of the heroes she knew, the men and women who were practically her aunts and uncles, and had tried to kill them… The image she had of him would be tarnished forever. She’d start to pull away from him, too.

Right now, things were fine. Rai, still wholly a child, was grinning up at his mom, a pure sunbeam of joy just being in her presence again after so long - the image ruined somewhat by bits of soggy pancake slipping out of his open mouth while he chewed and talked at the same time. 

Aika was quieter, chiming in often enough that it was clear she wanted to be a part of the conversation, but the way she averted her eyes, her slowly developing shyness, not present when her mother wasn’t around, told a different story. 

Kyouka volunteered to do the dishes after they were done while Denki helped Rai take a bath since he was now sticky with syrup and strawberry juice, and Aika, annoyed that neither parent would let her play on their phone (mostly to avoid her stumbling across anything related to her escaped convict of a grandfather on the internet) was forced by her mother to finally start on her summer homework. 

That day would forever stand out to Denki as one of the best. Though Kyouka was ‘technically’ on the job, having her get to spend the day with him and the kids, alone at home and just relaxing was… well, long overdue. If there was one bright spot to his father breaking out of jail and possibly trying to hunt him down, it was this. And how considerate of him to choose to do it in the summer, when Aika would be home. 

Denki tried to spend the afternoon working while Kyouka distracted the kids, but it was hard not to want to get involved. He helped Aika with her homework, joined Rai for some quality video game time, and the family even got to sit around and watch a movie together. They ordered their dinner rather than cook something again, which Denki was grateful for. Honestly, though nothing big or exciting happened today, just having them all together felt… right. And though Kyouka had to step away every now and then to answer a phone call, it wasn’t a problem. 

He put off telling Aika about his past, however. Doing it today would only ruin the mood. He didn’t want to do that to Kyouka. Or at least… that was what he told himself. 

At the very least, it seemed like both kids were pleased to have a chance to spend time with their mom. When she left the next morning to head back to her job, there were no sullen looks from Aika or tantrums from Rai. Just happy smiles. 

If only every day could be like this.

The next couple of days could be summarized by the odd sort of tension that had settled itself in the pit of Denki’s stomach. 

Kyouka was out, more often than not, performing her normal Hero duties and assisting in the nation-wide manhunt for the man who was her father-in-law. Denki stayed home, making up increasingly less-plausible excuses for why he couldn’t take his kids to the park or the beach or the pool, watching them slowly go stir-crazy, locked up in their apartment while Denki tried to get as much work done on his computer as he could over the sound of his kids fighting and the anxiety of a conversation he was going to have to have with them that he kept putting off for no good reason. 

Though they didn’t have a Hero constantly with them, probably because of how good the security was in their building and the fact that all of their neighbors were Heroes already, it became a common occurrence that week for his old friends from Class 1-A to begin dropping by because they were ‘coincidentally’ in the area. Sero spent a couple hours trying to put a puzzle together with his kids, Mina and Kirishima stopped by for lunch, Mineta asked to use the bathroom (that had to be the most memorable excuse by far), and even Shinso made an appearance. 

As the days went by, however, and no developments occurred in the search for his father, Denki’s concern regarding his escape began to wane. There’d been no attempts on his life, no sign of any pro-PLF sentiment stirring up, nothing to indicate that anything serious was going down. While he’d never truly feel at ease until the Heroes found and arrested his father once again, he couldn’t afford to live every day cooped up in his apartment. He’d start to go as crazy as his kids. 

So when the weekend rolled around and Denki got a call from his second part-time job telling him that one of their regulars had called out and they were in need of an electrician across town, he decided to go for it. After all, he didn’t want to risk losing this job, too. Not after going through so many in the last several years. 

He made a call to his in-laws, waited until Kyouka’s mother showed up to watch the kids for a bit while he was out, and then set off. He’d sent his wife a message, letting her know where he was going and was informed that a Pro named ‘Tomahawk’ was patrolling that area today and would be informed of Denki’s location. He’d never heard of them before and was a little disappointed that it wasn’t someone he knew,  but it didn’t matter. He doubted he’d be seeing them. 

The sun was disgustingly hot, practically roasting him alive while he worked. The white hardhat he wore did nothing for the heat but make his sweaty hair stick to his scalp, and though the yellow reflective vest he was forced to put on was hardly uncomfortable, he couldn’t fight the worry that his bare arms and neck were going to be cherry red by the time he returned home. He really ought to have picked up some sunscreen on the way over, but he hadn’t expected this apartment complex’s power grid to be stationed on the western side with no trees or buildings around for shade. 

Electricians work wasn’t that hard, at least compared to the Hero work he’d trained for before. Just a bunch of monitors and dials to check, wires to fiddle with, etc. It could be dangerous at times for regular electricians, but considering how Denki absorbed electricity, it not only meant that he didn’t have to take nearly as many precautions as his peers, but he didn’t have to wear those sweaty, uncomfortable gloves. It also meant that his employers were less likely to have to worry about potential lawsuits or workers comp if something went wrong, which is the main reason why he got this job despite his shady past. 

Mmm… Shade… He could really go for some of that. 

A couple of hours and a couple of buildings later, Denki was trudging down the street, chugging his third bottle of water and fiddling with his tool belt that kept wanting to slide down his waist. The sun had slipped a good way down the horizon. It wasn’t evening yet, but it was close. 

Maybe he should pick something up for dinner tonight? All he wanted when he got home was a cold shower and to kick his feet up in front of the TV. He was too lazy to cook. Maybe he should pick something up for his mother-in-law as well, just in case she wanted to join them for dinner before she left?

Just as he paused to dump the rest of the water bottle down the back of his neck, something caught his eye. 

There was a person following behind him. 

That wasn’t that unusual. He was hardly in an abandoned part of town, several people were walking along the street. What made this person stand out was the fact that they were wearing a grey hoodie that covered their face despite the intense summer heat. 

Denki continued walking and tried to rationalize away the spike of tension that shot through him. Wearing a hoodie and covering your face could mean anything, even in the heat of summer. Maybe they had a Quirk that made sunlight harmful, or maybe they were really self-conscious about their appearance. Wearing a hoodie and walking behind him did not mean that they were dangerous or after him. Besides, that figure was too small to be his father’s. 

Still, better safe than sorry. Turning down a narrow side-street, Denki broke into a hurried jog as soon as he was out of sight, hastening past old trash cans and graffitied lamp posts, laundromats and sketchy run-down lending companies to put as much distance between him and the mysterious figure as he could, keeping his eye out on the off-chance that he was being herded into an ambush. He slowed back to a normal walk and turned to glance over his shoulder, hoping to see the stranger walk by the entrance to the side street without even a second glance in his direction. 

His stomach dipped when he saw the figure turn to follow after him. Only this time, they were sprinting. 

Denki ducked down another street, this one more of an alleyway, and kept running. Well, there could be no doubt they were after him now, only… what should he do? He could pull out his phone and shoot a message to Tomahawk, whose number Kyouka had given him, but… there was little chance she’d get here in time. He could try to apprehend them himself; he was fairly confident that he had the skill. Only… he was unlicensed, and considering his record, using his Quirk to cause harm to another person, even self-defense, could land him in seriously hot water. 

He ultimately decided it didn’t matter. One way or another, this was going to turn into a fight. He’d just have to hope he could explain himself well enough once the cops showed up. And with any luck, this would give them a lead about his father…

Ducking behind a dumpster, Denki fought to calm his breathing as he waited for the tell-tale sound of approaching footsteps. There was another intersecting alley just across from him, as well as a few doors he could have entered. There was no way his pursuer would know where he went, though the alley was the most likely choice. With any luck, he’d catch them off-guard. 

The sound of his would-be stalker rounding the corner met his ears. Their footsteps were quick and surprisingly fast. They’d be on him in just a second. 

Letting electricity flood through his body, Denki rushed out from behind the dumpster with his left-arm raised, charging his surprised assailant head-on like he was going to perform a lariat. 

Denki’s Quirk was powerful, but it had his drawbacks. He could fire off a massive surge of electricity, but without support items (which he was no longer legally allowed to own or use), he couldn’t aim. If he shot it off now, he was likely to catch his opponent in the burst, but he could also harm anyone in the nearby buildings or cause damage to power lines or even start fires. Getting a bystander hurt by his Quirk or causing substantial property damage was a guaranteed one-way trip back to prison. That meant his only alternative was hand-to-hand combat. 

His pursuer’s advance faltered, clearly caught off-guard by Denki’s surprise appearance, but just before his arm could connect with their chest, they bent backward, sliding low with a yelp and just barely dodging his attack. 

He didn’t let up. Seizing the dumpster in both hands and releasing his Quirk, he lashed out with his leg, hoping to catch his opponent with the heel of his shoe, but his foe threw themselves awkwardly to the side to dodge the blow, crashing clumsily against the side of a building. 

Denki was hardly a master of the martial arts. Ojiro, Kirishima, or Uraraka could give him a run for his money any day of the week. But he did have one distinct advantage. By running a current through his body, he essentially became a human stun gun. 

He didn’t need to overpower his opponent with physical strength or skill. Just touch them once, and the fight was his. 

Electricity crackled through his body again, his lips pulled back into a snarl. Whoever this was, they were clearly working with his father. They’d managed to him on a random street corner, which meant they were probably tracking him. His kids wouldn’t be safe again until his old man was tossed back in prison where he belonged.

And this stranger, hastily stumbling back to their feet and rubbing painfully at their shoulder, was going to help them do that.

“Wait!”

Ignoring their pleading shout, Denki darted forward, fists raised. One touch, that was all he needed. 

He threw a punch, not expecting it to land, already preparing his second, when, to his complete disbelief, his opponent caught it in their bare hand. 

The electricity fizzled out, unleashing directly into their body… and nothing happened. 

Denki’s heart was in his throat. His one ace-in-the-hole… useless. Figures they would send someone who Denki’s Quirk didn’t work against. He should have thought of that! He was so stupid!

“Denki,” the stranger panted, their breathing ragged, their voice high and feminine and familiar, “wait… just… let me explain…”

“Who…?” he started, already half-certain that he knew but unwilling to believe until she’d proven it, until there could be no doubts. 

She released his hand, taking a measured step backward and reaching up to pull back the edges of her hood, even though her eyes, golden just like his, had been already visible thanks to their glow. Her hair was just as poofy as he remembered, untameable thanks to their hereditary static cling, pulled back in two buns the same platinum blonde as their mother’s. 

Denki stumbled back, eyes wide, disbelieving. 

His little sister was alive. 

Her face, still round, though harsher now, somehow, glowered at him, breathless and uncertain. 

“...I need your help.”

Chapter Text

After the attack on UA, after betraying his friends, after leaving so much pain and destruction in his wake, Denki Kaminari stepped out of the vehicle he and the others had returned in and was once again back home in Deika. Only it didn’t feel like home anymore. It didn’t really feel like anywhere. 

People were cheering, a veritable crowd. They’d lined up to see them, Denki and the other PLF and League members who had participated in the battle. They were conquering heroes, returning from the battlefront after a decisive victory. Some of them shouted his name, calling out to him, old friends, old neighbors, old acquaintances. He no longer knew who any of them were. 

He was in a smokey haze of confusion and pain as he stumbled into the roar of the crowd, smothering and suffocating until he felt his mother’s familiar arms wrap around him. 

She was crying. He could remember that so clearly. Crying, though she was smiling up at him, her soft, round face scrunched up with emotion, pride radiating from her every pore. Her son was home, she managed through sobs. Her son, the liberator. Her son, the hero. 

His father stood nearby, but though he was smiling as well, there was tension in his eyes. Concern, though whether for Denki or for the situation they now found themselves in, he didn’t know. 

And next to him stood his little sister, Emiko. She was taller now, leaner, though her face was still as round as their mother’s. She was not smiling. Her eyes were narrowed, her expression dark, her lips a thin, bloodless line as she stared at him. Searching, it felt to him. Considering. Weighing. 

He avoided her gaze. 

Re-Destro appeared through the crowd, their once-glorious leader, now wheelchair-bound, his omnipresent smile just as bright as ever. He addressed the crowd, ever the showman, praising the soldiers of the Paranormal Liberation Front who had taken the battle to the front lines and had shocked Hero society to its core. His sweeping, grandiose adulations included the PLF members, League members, and Denki, all by name, implying a certain degree of camaraderie between the old MLA regulars and their new League supporters that wasn’t actually there. 

To Denki, the praise felt hollow. It felt false. 

This was a charade. How had he never noticed before? Everything, from the cheering crowds to the publicized congratulations, was fake. Expertly crafted to hide the rank stank of corruption that festered underneath. Intended to reinforce the group’s insidious ideology in the malleable minds of the masses. Shigaraki wasn’t the only twisted leader in this group. Re-Destro had been this way from the start. 

It took everything Denki had to smile when he shook his hand. The crowd cheered. His mother wept, still clinging to his side, only letting go so she could shake Re-Destro’s hand as well, and for a moment, you’d be forgiven for thinking she was the one being congratulated. 

His eyes swept across the crowd if only to avoid the gazes of the PLF leaders and his family, but it seemed to him that every other face in the crowd belonged to a schoolmate or faculty member at UA. Every one glaring. Every one furiously demanding to know why. 

The bright afternoon sunlight had been garish and blinding, and he was grateful to it for giving him an excuse to keep his eyes on the ground.

A couple of hours and an eternity later, Denki had arrived back at his old family home. Some of his neighbors were standing on the street or leaning over fences or out of windows, whistling and clapping and cheering him on. It was clear that his mom wanted to stand outside and talk, show him off a bit, but he retreated inside before she had the chance. 

Once back in his childhood home, the dull roar in his ears seemed to finally abate, at least somewhat. The house felt familiar and foreign all at once, like visiting a grandparent who lived far away. He wished he was still back at school. 

“So,” his mother said, clapping her hands together brusquely as she and the others followed him inside, “this calls for a celebration! What do you want for dinner tonight, Denki dear? Anything at all!”

Celebration? After betraying all of his friends?

Family dinner? After participating in a terrorist attack that had taken human lives?

His stomach roiled. 

How were they all not going mad? Or had they always been, and he’d just never noticed?

“I’m not hungry, mom,” he said instead, turning away from her faltering smile. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Denki-!”

“Hun,” his father’s voice cut in, placing a restraining hand on her shoulder when she made to go after him, “he’s had a big day today. He probably needs his rest.”

“Of course,” she replied after a moment, the joviality returning to her tone as though nothing at all was wrong with the world. “Of course! Well, you just take a nap and I’ll whip up a feast for everyone! How does that sound?”

He was already at the top of the stairs at this point, however, and instead of answering, he headed off down the darkened hall, trying to pretend that he wasn’t running. He didn’t think he’d grown much taller in the year he’d been away, but his door seemed smaller somehow. Of course; the ones at UA had been enormous for some reason. They’d always joked about that, him and his friends. 

He gently closed his door behind him, giving his room a once-over. Everything looked the same as he remembered, just… dustier. It was like he’d stepped into a time machine. He wished he’d been able to retrieve some of his things from the dorm. Maybe then, this would feel more like home. As it was, he was in the bedroom of a stranger. 

He sat on the bed, letting his eyes sweep across his desk and bookshelves, taking in everything without really paying attention. He was so tired, but if he closed his eyes now, he knew all he’d be able to see was smoke. Smoke, and a dozen angry, condemning faces. 

Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. 

There, near his closet, propped up against the wall and half-concealed under a dirty T-shirt, sat an old acoustic guitar. 

Slowly, Denki rose to his feet and picked it up, sitting down on the edge of his bed and letting the forgotten instrument rest in his hands. It had been a birthday present years ago from his father. One he’d never actually touched. He’d been too lazy to actually learn how to play. It was small and cheaply made, dusty, just like everything else, and there was no doubt that it was out of tune if it ever had been. His fingers found the fretboard, tips digging painfully into the strings, and he froze. 

Jirou’s eyes seemed to glare up at him from behind his eyelids, furious and twisted and full of loathing. 

He couldn’t bring himself to strum. 

“I didn’t know you could play the guitar.”

He opened his eyes but didn’t turn his head. 

“You should really knock before coming into my room, you know.”

At the edge of his vision, he saw Emi shift her feet. 

“I didn’t think you’d let me in if I asked.”

Well, she was right about that. But then, she’d always been the smarter of the two of them. 

Silence filled the room again. He didn’t know how to talk to her anymore. The past year at UA felt like a chasm between him and his family, and right now, more than anything, he just wanted to be alone. Alone, with the accusatory stares of his classmates. Alone, with this out-of-tune guitar.  

Emi opened her mouth, then closed it. Opened it again, then bit her lip and turned away. She was fidgety, clearly wanting to talk - to ask him how he was, to ask about the past year, to ask about what had happened that morning, he didn’t know - but it was obvious that the uncomfortable tension had grown too thick. Neither sibling knew how to bridge the gap and only one of them seemed willing to try. 

They hadn’t interacted much after he’d been accepted to UA. They’d been so close when they were younger, but the older they got, the less cool it was to hang out with your little sister, and they’d devolved into typical sibling bickering in place of normal conversations. After he got his acceptance, with all the praise he’d been getting from his mother and the MLA leadership, she’d become snappy and withdrawn. He remembered his mom telling him once that it was just because she was going to miss him, but he thought it was more likely that she was jealous of the attention he was getting. 

Part of him wished that it had been her who had gone to UA in his place.

The wall of silence seemed to grow insurmountable. 

Slowly, Emi retreated back to the door. 

“I’ll tell mom you’re asleep,” she said finally, exiting back into the hall, leaving Denki alone with his guilt. 

Just before closing the door, she hesitated one last time as though she was finally going to say whatever it was that had been bothering her… but then the door closed, and she was gone. 

“I need your help.”

Denki’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape like an idiot. It was all he could do to keep on his feet. 

There, standing only a few feet in front of him, was a veritable ghost. 

His little sister was alive. 

Emiko was alive. 

Silence engulfed the alleyway. In the distance, the dull droning of cicadas filled the air, almost obscuring the sound of traffic from the nearby highway. The sun was getting low, the sky already turning gold. Just like her eyes. 

Without even thinking, Denki moved. 

Emi stiffened, half-raising her arms in a defensive posture as though he were on the attack, but before she could react further, Denki’s arms had already surrounded her. 

“...I thought you were dead,” he whispered, voice little more than a croak. He was well aware that he was hugging her too tightly, aware that he was trembling, aware that this was not the smart way to be reacting to this situation, but it was difficult to care about any of that right now. Of all the family reunions he could be having, this was the last one he would have expected. 

Well. Almost. 

After a moment, he pulled away. Emi hadn’t moved, not to hug him back or push him away. Her arms were still up, forearms crossed protectively, but the expression on her face had changed ever-so-slightly. It was difficult to read. She looked… fragile. And scared. And confused. And maybe a little angry. 

He took a moment to look his sister over. She was taller now, about the same height as Kyouka, maybe a little taller. Her body was thin (it was obscured behind her grey hoodie, but he could tell when he’d hugged her), but not in an unhealthy way. Judging by the clean state her hair and clothes were in, and the muscular shape to her legs, clad in black leggings and off-white tennis shoes, she was at least taking care of herself. She seemed well fed. Not living on the street, then.  

“Where have you been?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. “Why haven’t you reached out to me before?”

Her expression darkened, and a hateful sneer wormed its way onto her freckle-spattered face. 

“Oh, sure. My big brother, the Hero. Can’t imagine why I might have stayed away from you.”

He sighed. So that was the tone she wanted for their reunion, then.

“I’m not a Hero, Emi-”

She interrupted him with a derisive snort. 

“I could’ve told you that.”

“I meant,” he continued, gritting his teeth, “that I’m not a Pro. But you know that. My life isn’t exactly a secret.”

If she had found him there randomly on the street, she’d clearly done at least a little digging. How long had she been tailing him, though? It had to have been from his apartment. No way she could have predicted what jobs he’d get assigned or which route he’d take to get home, and she didn’t have a sensory Quirk… unless she wasn’t alone.

“So what?” she spat, finally lowering her arms only to fold them across her chest defensively. “You married a Hero, all your friends are Heroes… It’s the same thing.”

He sighed again, this time taking off his white work-issue helmet so he could run his hands distractedly through his sweaty hair. He tossed it to the side, letting it clatter noisily across the dirty pavement. He wanted to make sure his hands were free, just in case. 

She had a point, though. As much as he would have liked to have known that she was alive, she was still technically a wanted criminal. She’d been a teenager at the time, but she’d still been an active member of the PLF and had joined the fight against the Pros. Just being involved with them was bad enough, but the fact that she’d actively used her Quirk to fight against the Heroes and police was a whole different level. If any of his friends had found out where she was, even though she was Denki’s sister, he knew they would have gone after her. It was their job, after all, and the PLF had been a serious threat. More than one Pro had lost their lives to them, to say nothing of the countless police officers and innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. 

The fact of the matter was, his little sister was a criminal who had been living her life on the run for the last ten years. She wasn’t the girl he used to know. He needed to remember that and not let sentimentality cloud his judgment. 

“Why are you here, Emi?” he asked, voice low. “If you’re so keen on staying away, why seek me out now?”

“You know why,” she replied, narrowing her eyes. “It’s about dad.”

Denki scoffed. 

“If you seriously think I’m going to help him-”

“Help him?” Emi cut in loudly. “I came here because I’m the one who needs help.”

“You?” Denki frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“Dad, he…” She hesitated, licking her lips. She looked suddenly uncertain. “He’s after me.”

He could only stare. 

“I’m sorry… what?”

“Some of his MLA buddies broke him out of jail. Apparently, they’re trying to make a comeback, but they want to punish the rest of us who got away. I guess they’ve decided anyone who ran instead of going down fighting or getting caught is a traitor. They’ve already tried to take me once.”

A moment passed in which the two Kaminari siblings stared at one another in complete silence. 

Denki had to fight to keep the incredulity off of his face. 

“They’re coming after you,” he repeated, keeping his tone neutral. 

She nodded, her eyes studying his carefully. 

“A bunch of old MLA supporters broke dad out of prison… to hunt down other old MLA supporters for revenge. And they started with you.”

She scowled, clearly getting angry. 

“Yes! That’s what I said!”

He snorted and turned away. 

“You’re full of it.”

“I-! Hey!” She darted forward, throwing her arms wide to block his path. “Where are you going?! Do you know how hard it was to bring myself to come here?! You weren’t exactly my first choice!”

“Emi,” Denki said, his voice growing harsh, “cut the bullshit. You seriously expect me to believe that you came here running from dad?! From dad?! I’m not going to fall for this BS! The only person dad or the PLF have any reason to want to get even with is me - and you can’t expect me to believe that that’s not why you’re really here!”

Emi’s eyes flashed. 

“You think I’m here to play you?”

He spread his hands as if to say ‘well, what do you think?’

His sister was seething. 

“Of the two of us,” she breathed, “I am the only one who hasn’t betrayed their family. You of all people don’t get to throw that accusation in my face!”

He flinched but held his ground. She wasn’t going to bait him. 

“But then I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she continued. “It makes sense that you’d be ok with leaving me out to dry. After all, you were fine with thinking I was dead before. Fine with leaving dad in jail for life for crimes you walked away clean from. Fine with abandoning mom to-”

“Hey!” he shouted, stepping forward and pointing a threatening finger at his sister. “What happened to mom wasn’t my fault!”

“Yeah, sure,” she rasped, voice somehow scathing despite the tears she was holding back. “You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.”

Silence rang out across the street again, both siblings glaring daggers at each other, breathing heavily as if they’d been exchanging fists instead of words. 

Finally, Emi turned away. 

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll handle this on my own.” She started walking away, her back straight, her fists clenched and shaking with rage. “Goodbye, Denki-”

He surprised them both when his hand closed around her wrist, holding her in place. 

“What?” she snarled, shooting him a glare over her shoulder. “You gonna hold me here till your Hero friends show up?”

“Shut up,” he spat, annoyed. Then, despite his better judgment, he asked, “...Why come to me for help?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly go to the cops, now could I?”

“Don’t you have any old PLF friends you could ask?”

“MLA,” she corrected as if by rote. “The PLF was Shigaraki’s doing, we’re not a part of it-”

“Sure, whatever.”

She turned to face him fully, her eyes flashing again as lightning crackled across the knuckles of her free hand. 

“I was as much a part of the PLF as you were, Denki. Don’t act all high and mighty with me.”

They stared at each other for a moment of tense silence before he finally released her. 

“Explain it to me,” he began again. “How am I supposed to help you? What’s your plan?”

“There is no plan,” she replied, rubbing absently at her wrist. “I don’t have anywhere I can run, and I don’t have any friends who can take me in. My only shot at getting out of this is if I take dad down first.”

Denki quirked a brow. 

“So you plan to… kill him?”

“Don’t be an idiot. I just need to get him and his posse arrested again. And I figured if I stayed near you, who he probably wants to take down too, one of the two of us could bait him out into attacking, and then maybe you could help me get away before the Heroes arrest him again. That, or he’d be too scared to try and get me when I’m so close to so many Pros, and I can just… hide in your bubble until he’s caught.”

Denki stuck his tongue against the side of his cheek, thinking. That plan didn’t make any sense, she was just as likely, if not more so, to get caught by the cops if she stayed near him. In fact, it sounded kind of like she was making it up on the spot. He was pretty sure she was. 

“I can’t guarantee that the Pros wouldn’t find and catch you, too,” he said instead. “And if I get caught using my Quirk in a fight, I’d be going to jail right alongside you.”

“What, your connections couldn’t pull any strings behind the scenes to get you out?” she sneered, but he kept his face impassive. 

“No. Also, how do you expect us to ‘bait him out’? What, do we just… wander around together on the street until he makes a move? That sounds like a good way to end up dead.”

“I’ll think of something,” she said, totally not invoking any confidence in him whatsoever. “So? Are you going to help me or not?”

How stupid did she think he was? Granted, he had had the worst grades in the class back in school, but he had still gotten into UA. Having the worst grades there still meant he was smarter than most other kids his age.

There were numerous problems with her story, and she’d done nothing to convince him that she wasn’t in cahoots with their dad to try and take him down. Agreeing to help her was a terrible idea. 

He couldn’t deny, however, that there existed a large and vocal part of him that was yearning to do anything and everything he could to help her. Because villain or not, vengeful cult member or not, she was still his sister. And she was right. He had betrayed her. If there was some way, any way, that he could try to make this right…

It didn’t matter, though. Not just because he knew that this was a trap, but because he had something more important to protect than his pride or even her safety. And he would stop at nothing to protect that one still-untarnished part of his life. Even if it meant letting her down again.

But maybe… Maybe he could find a way to do both?

“Fine,” he said, and Emi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I’ll help you.”

The look of shock on her face was purely comical. 

“Y-you will? For real?”

“Yeah. I owe you at least that much.” Though he had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t going to be happy with him when this was all over. Not that she was happy with him now. “We can’t start tonight, though. I have to pick up dinner. Do you have a safe place to stay? Want me to take you there?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said hastily. “I don’t want you knowing where I’m staying, you might send someone after me.”

He shrugged, though inwardly he couldn’t deny that that was a distinct possibility. 

“Alright, fine. How should I contact you?”

“You don’t. I’ll find you like I did today. But no Heroes or cops.”

“Cool, I guess,” he replied, “but let me add my own stipulation.”

He stepped closer and his voice became deadly serious. 

“I still don’t trust you, and I have kids now, Emi. If I find out that you’re playing me, or if you make one single move to hurt them, I will not hesitate to take you down.”

She met his burning gaze with a cool one of her own. 

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I’m not in the habit of betraying my family.”

And with that, she turned her head and walked away. 

Denki waited until she rounded the distant corner before stooping down to pick up his discarded helmet, turning it over slowly in his hands. 

He wasn’t dumb. He knew she was playing him. No way in hell was she not some sort of trap set by their dad. Ten years may have passed, but he could still tell when his sister was lying. 

That didn’t matter, though. All this meant was that he had a lead to help him find his father, and the faster they could do that, the faster they could put him back behind bars and the faster his kids would be safe again. 

Maybe betrayal really was all he was good for…

If that was the way it had to be to keep his kids safe, then so be it. He hadn’t started this fight, but he wouldn’t mind being the one to end it. 

Placing the helmet back on his head, Denki turned and walked away, leaving the quiet, abandoned alleyway behind him. He needed to find a restaurant quick so he could pick up dinner before it got dark. 

And while inside, he’d find a little corner, away from prying eyes, where he could pull out his phone and compose a text message. 

His wife was not going to be happy. 

Chapter Text

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Denki winced, carefully sticking his pinky into his ear and wiggling it around a bit. Seriously, for someone who had superhuman hearing, you’d think his wife would be more considerate about the volume of her voice…

He was in one of the many meeting rooms contained within Heights Alliance, a tall, imposing office building that held the Hero offices of many of his old classmates. The original Heights Alliance had been the name of the dormitories built for the students of UA shortly after the attack on their summer camp back in their first year of high school, but after they’d been mostly destroyed in the ‘war’ with Shigaraki, his classmates had adopted the name for the veritable skyscraper they’d commissioned in order to keep most of their offices together. 

Heights Alliance was also the name for the pseudo ‘team’ they and the members of the old Class 1-B had formed after graduation. Almost none of them were officially on teams, but it was a well-known fact that graduates from their year at UA preferred partnering with one another and either patrolled or worked most of their cases together when they could. 

Not everyone from his class had an office here, of course. At least not their main ones. Deku and Bakugou had their own larger offices in other parts of the country, as did Todoroki, Yaoyarozu, Iida, and Tokoyami, and some classmates actually worked primarily from said offices (like Uraraka, Asui, Kirishima and Aoyama), but it wasn’t an unusual occurrence to see any of them or their sidekicks here at Heights Alliance multiple times in any given month, or even week if they were working a case nearby. 

As it was, when he’d showed up at the office building around a half an hour after contacting his wife (and then immediately calling his mother-in-law to tell her he needed her to babysit for a little longer and to beg her forgiveness for forcing her to spend more time with the hellions he called his children), he shouldn’t have been surprised to find that Kyouka was not the only person waiting for him. 

Aside from him and his wife, who was currently standing on the other side of the table he was seated at, palms on the table-top and glowering at him like he was their son refusing to eat all of his dinner because he’d suddenly decided that he no longer liked fish, the meeting room also contained Yaoyorozu, Sero, Mina, Kouda, and weirdly enough, Bakugou, who had brought along an acquaintance from the police force who was heading up the manhunt for Denki’s father. 

Denki did his best to avoid her gaze. Detective Noriko Nakamura was a tall, stern-faced, no-nonsense type of woman with a stare that could peel the paint off of walls. How on earth she managed to partner with the temperamental, explosive Bakugou so often was anyone’s guess, but then, considering his track record, maybe it wasn’t that hard to understand. He was good at what he did. 

He abruptly realized he’d kept quiet for too long when he noticed Kyouka’s eyes were starting to twitch. 

“Look,” he offered, vying for an easy-going smile that had absolutely zero positive effect on his wife. “What were my options, given the situation? I did my best to exit the scene quickly and without conflict, and I reported it to the authorities as soon as I could! See? Model citizen.”

Sero smirked and shook his head, but remained quiet. 

“Yes,” Kyouka grated, teeth clenched, “but you didn’t have to promise to help her!”

He scratched at the back of his head, giving an awkward chuckle and hoping his tension wasn’t as obvious to the others as it was to him. 

“I mean, sure, but it’s not like that changes anything. She was going to keep coming after me regardless.”

“Are you sure?” Mina chimed in, sitting in a backward-facing chair and resting her chin and arms on the metal backrest. “I mean… What if she’s telling the truth?”

Bakugou snorted from his position across the room. 

Denki agreed with his angry friend’s classy mouth noise but kept his attention on the pink one. “I know when my sister is lying.”

“It has been over ten years, man,” Sero said, finally speaking up. “And you two haven’t had any contact. A lot could have changed.”

Denki shook his head emphatically. 

“No. She was too defensive about the MLA when I brought it up, and she had basically no control over her emotions. Sure, some things have probably changed, but I can still read her. Besides, her story doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hmm…” Detective Nakamura, who had spent most of this conversation staring at Denki through her rectangular glasses as though her eyes could pierce into his very soul, was now rifling through some papers in the folder sitting on the table in front of her. “Tell me. What is your assessment of the escaped Renjiro Kaminari? You’ve had no contact with him whatsoever since his arrest, correct?”

“With dad? No. I haven’t seen him since… well, since before he was captured.” He licked his lips. Even after all this time, memories of that last battle were difficult to revisit. “As for what I think of him… I don’t get what you mean.”

“You seem adamant that your sister, Emiko Kaminari, is lying.” Why she felt the need to say a person’s full name when talking about them, Denki had no idea, but it was distracting. “I’m trying to ascertain why you feel so strongly about this. I’m assuming it has to do with your father, either something in his disposition or some anecdote from his past?”

“Oh.” Why did she have to word things in the most confusing way possible? “Then, yeah, I guess I’d say it’s because of his disposition.

“My dad doesn’t exactly have the strongest Quirk around. It’s… basically just a weaker version of Emi’s. But even though he did his best with it, my dad was… never really much of a fighter. He supported the MLA and later the PLF for the same reasons me and Emi did; because that was how we were raised. It was just the normal thing for someone who grew up in Deika. But he was never particularly dedicated to the cause.”

“‘Not particularly dedicated to the cause…’” Nakamura muttered, scribbling on her clipboard. “But he still stood up and fought against the Heroes. He may not have been the most devoted member, but he was devoted enough.”

“Not to the PLF,” Denki repeated. “He didn’t fight for them. He fought for mom.”

Kyoka’s frustrated expression faltered, and he could see sympathy on Mina and Kouda’s faces, but he kept his eyes on the detective.

“I see…” Nakamura mused, scribbling something else down on her clipboard. “So you don’t believe your sister’s story because your father-”

“Cared more about the family than the cause,” Denki clarified. “He has no reason to hurt Emiko, it would be very out of character, and his motivations for coming after me… well, I doubt they’re directly MLA related.”

He took his hands off of the table and clenched them together on his lap, hoping nobody noticed that they were shaking. Emi’s words in the alleyway seemed to echo in his head. Her reasons for coming after him and siding with his father weren’t really MLA related either. 

Nakamura opened her mouth, clearly about to ask the question he didn’t want to have to answer when Bakugou came to his rescue. 

“Who gives a damn what that asshole’s motivations are?” he growled, looking murderous (which, to be fair, was his default expression). “I just want to know if Sparky’s idiotic plan can actually work.”

Kyouka stood up straight, shooting Bakugou an incredulous look. 

“Wait, don’t tell me we’re actually going through with this-?!”

“I would need to get clearance from my superiors,” Nakamura muttered, sounding more like she was talking to herself than answering Kyouka.

“Look, if the idiot wants to do it, I say we let him do it,” Bakugou cut in, glowering at Kyouka. “From the sounds of it, his sister is going to be coming after him anyway. May as well take advantage of the situation.”

“Kyouka,” Yaoyarozu cut in gently before she could fire a retort back at Bakugou, “I know this isn’t… ideal… but Kaminari is going to be a target either way. All we really need him to do is make contact with his sister again and she can lead us straight to his father.”

“But that’s just it!” Kyouka cried, exasperated. “We don’t know that they’re alone! There could easily be other PLF members working with them! You’re asking me to sign off on my husband walking into an obvious trap, one set by his own family members, and to just be ok with it!”

“It is a little crazy,” Sero offered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well, ok then - why would he have to go alone?” Mina asked, sitting up straight. “We can just get Tooru to follow them around, all invisible-!”

“There are too many variables to consider with that plan, especially since they’ll most likely be on the street,” Yaoyarozu replied, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “If she bumped into anyone, or if any other hypothetical PLF members have sensory or tracking Quirks, his cover would be blown. And given how his family possesses electric Quirks, any tracking devices I make stand a high chance of being destroyed-”

“I’ll handle it.” Hearing Kouda speak was still odd, even after so many years of knowing him. “I’ll just set some animals to watching them. Nobody will think it's weird to see pigeons or stray cats around, and if anything goes wrong, we can have someone on standby to jump in!”

Denki was a little overwhelmed at how readily his friends seemed to be jumping on board with this admittedly insane plan, but it was Kyouka who looked the most surprised. And upset. 

Nakamura was speaking with Bakugou, discussing the many complications of what actually going through this plan would entail, the others all debating the various ways they could potentially set up protections for Denki, everyone seemingly forgetting that he and Kyouka were even there now that they had switched fully into ‘Hero’ mode. 

She turned to look at him, her shoulders stiff, her expression defeated, and he offered up his most encouraging smile. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s playing the double-agent.”

His joke was in poor taste, and he knew it, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“I know,” she replied, looking away. “And that’s the problem.”

The meeting concluded with Detective Nakamura saying she’d get back to him later in the week regarding whether they received the ok or not to use him as bait, and Denki found himself walking home under a warm, muggy night sky in the company of his temporary bodyguard, Momo Yaoyoruzu. 

On the one hand, he was a little disappointed that Yaomomo was on guard duty and not his wife, but as she was scheduled for patrol in a different part of the city, there wasn’t anything they could do about that. On the other hand, with how angry she currently was, maybe it was better to give her some time to cool down before being alone with her. 

Plus, it had been a while since he and Yaomomo had connected. May as well make the best of it. 

“Y’know,” he began after stepping aside to let a young high school couple pass him by on the narrow sidewalk, “if my dad and sister are keeping tabs on me, then we’ve already given ourselves away. You sure it’s a good idea for me to be constantly in the company of Pro Heroes? Especially ones of your… caliber?”

Every person they passed by was seriously ogling. It didn’t help that Creati’s Hero costume was so uniquely revealing either, but seeing as she was currently ranked number seven in all of Japan, he knew she would have gotten stares either way. 

“We’re not supposed to talk about that in public, Kaminari,” his companion replied acerbically, then sighed and shook her head, looking distracted. “Besides, it’s common knowledge that we've been friends since high school. Us being spotted together isn’t unusual.”

“Sure, I guess,” he replied, not really sure how to tackle that. She wasn’t wrong, but… well, if he was a villain tailing a target who entered the building of a bunch of top Pros less than an hour after a meetup, he doubted he’d shrug it off no matter the target’s connections with the Heroes. 

Then again, it was entirely possible that Emi had approached him on the street knowing that he wouldn’t believe her. Maybe they were counting on him playing along in order to trick them…

No, not important. This was his chance to put his dad back behind bars and keep his kids safe. His chance to help out for once, to not be left sitting on the sidelines. Any risks he was taking on didn’t matter. 

“So,” he began again after Creati paused to sign an autograph for a balding middle-aged man who was sweating entirely too much for it to be just due to the heat, “how’s the hubby? I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages.”

While most of Denki’s old classmates were still single, a handful of them had elected to settle down not too long after Denki had finally convinced Kyouka to marry him. Technically, Midoriya and Uraraka had been the first to get together, but Denki didn’t count that, because as far as he was concerned, they’d practically been married since they were teenagers. Or at least, that was how they had acted, and it was super gross. Adorable, and endearing, and still super gross. 

He and Kyouka were a little… odd… in the sense that they’d gotten married pretty young. They were both twenty-one when they’d tied the knot, and Kyouka had given birth to Aika less than a year later. The speed at which they had seemed to be moving would have been a little abnormal for pretty much any couple - but for a Pro Hero to have to go on leave due to having a child so soon after going solo was almost unheard of. Some critics had even gone so far as to question if Kyouka was taking her job seriously.

Another oddity? Unlike regular couples, most Pros didn’t change their names after getting married, as their names were part of their brand recognition. Yaoyoruzu was actually one of the rare exceptions to this; she had changed her name to Momo Todoroki after marrying her classmate but had elected to keep her maiden name for public use. Legally, she was Momo Todoroki, but everyone still called her Yaoyorozu (at least when they weren’t calling her Creati). 

When it came to kids, which name the child got was up to the couple. Sometimes one, sometimes the other; he heard some Western couples sometimes went with both, which just sounded confusing to him. Momo’s daughter had her father’s surname because both of her parents were old fashioned like that. In Denki’s case, however, he’d been absolutely adamant with Kyouka. Their kids were taking her name. He didn’t want them tainted with the Kaminari legacy. 

“Shouto’s doing fine,” Yaoyorozu replied, a small, proud smile growing on her face. “He’s been busy lately. I don’t think he was too happy when he ranked number three last year. He tries to hide it, but his rivalry with Midoriya and Bakugou can get pretty fierce, and losing to those two has put a fire under him.”

“Just him, huh?” Denki joked, flashing his taller friend a crooked grin. “So you’re perfectly fine being ranked below them? I mean, seventh highest in the nation is amazing, but fifth highest in the class…?”

The glare she sent him would have frozen him solid if she had had her husband’s Quirk. 

“I am perfectly happy with my position, thank you,” she snipped, and then, after a moment’s pause, “besides, Tokoyami ranking above me was just a fluke this year, and I’m going to catch up to Shouto and the others in no time-!”

“I was kidding! Relax! Everyone thinks you’re amazing, Yaomomo. Don’t tell Kyouka this, but I’m pretty sure you’re Aika’s favorite Hero.” Yaoyorozu’s shoulders relaxed, her small smile growing more pronounced. “Besides, if Japan would just adopt my method of ranking Heroes based upon the number of crayon drawings they get from kids, then you’d be winning in a landslide. A literal landslide of terrible, badly proportioned, often illegible, chaotic scribbles-”

“Stop that,” she chided gently as the two turned a corner, Denki’s apartment building coming into view. “Those kids work really hard on those! They’re sweet!”

“Sure,” he nodded, “but does that mean you have to keep them all? I’m pretty sure that’s a fire hazard.”

“I…! I can’t just throw them out! They put their hearts and souls into them!”

The look of literal distress on her face had him laughing right up until they arrived at the entrance to his apartment complex. 

“Well, Yaomomo, allow me to thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said, offering an exaggerated bow and a playful wink. “It was very sweet of you to walk me home. This has been a date I will never forget.”

Not unexpectedly, she barely seemed fazed by his joke. 

“I’m going to tell Kyouka you said that,” she replied, a flat look on her face. 

“I’m going to tell her, too,” came the voice of Tanjiro, the security guard, from off to the side. 

“Wha-? Come on, guys! Don’t rat me out! I was just kidding!”

From the heavy looks they both exchanged, neither one had come around to his sense of humor yet. Go figure.

He was grateful to see, when he finally made his way back up to his apartment, that his kids hadn’t managed to drive their grandmother to the verge of insanity yet. 

“Thank you so much, Mika,” Denki said, placing his hardhat, vest, and tool belt on the kitchen counter. “I’m so sorry for making you stay here so late-”

“It isn’t a problem, Denki, honestly,” his mother-in-law replied with a polite smile. It was astonishing to him how young she still looked, even though she was pushing fifty. Her hair hadn’t even begun to grey yet, unlike her husband’s, whose long locks had practically become a mane of pure silver. 

The kids were in the living room, Rai watching some dumb cartoon while Aika pretended to focus on her summer homework (he knew her well enough to know when she was faking). While they were distracted, Mika leaned in a little closer and whispered, “What happened? Is Kyouka alright?”

“She’s fine,” he promised quietly, suddenly feeling guilty about not clarifying to her over the phone why he needed her to stay late. “I’m actually the reason we needed you to stay. Something… happened… on the way back.”

Mika’s eyes widened fearfully behind her dark frames. 

“You mean…?”

“No, no,” he reassured hastily, “nothing like that. He’s still on the loose. Someone… made contact, that’s all. I had to go down to the office to give my testimony so Kyouka and the others could put together a plan.”

She still looked concerned, but before he could do anything more to ease her concerns, Aika entered the kitchen, clearly drawn over by her father’s appearance, the dull look on her face a reflection of her clear lack of desire to focus on her homework. 

“What are you two whispering about?” she asked as she grabbed the door to the fridge and pulled it open. 

“Whether or not you two were behaving yourselves,” Denki replied quickly. “Anyway, Mika, thanks again for everything. I hope that food I ordered was enough to feed everyone-”

“More than enough,” Aika cut in from behind the fridge door. “We put the rest in here for you and mom.”

“Awesome. Well then, we should probably let you go. Yaomomo is waiting downstairs to walk you back to your place.”

Aika pulled back from the fridge, looking confused. 

“What? Why is Yaoyarozu waiting to take grandma home?”

“Girl talk,” Denki replied automatically. “You know, just… whatever it is that girls talk about?”

Aika quirked a brow, but Mika came to his rescue. 

“That sounds lovely, I haven’t seen Momo in ages. You kids behave for your father, ok? I’ll see you all again soon!”

And, after a round of hugs and kisses, Mika waved goodbye and left, casting one last concerned look in Denki’s direction before the door closed behind her. 

Denki sighed. She’d be fine. Yaoyorozu walking her home was just a precaution, and not even a necessary one. His dad wasn’t very likely to target her or Kyouka’s father. The police hadn’t even recommended any extra protections for them; this was just Yaoyorozu being overly cautious.

Turning back from the door, he was surprised to find Aika still standing in the kitchen and staring at him. 

“Why are you back so late?”

He had to work to form a smile on his face. 

“What? Did you miss me?”

He expected her to scoff and brush him off, but she didn’t, instead leaning against the counter and asking, “Was there an attack?”

For a moment, he thought his heart stopped beating. But then he shook it off, realizing she can’t have meant anything regarding his father. 

“O-oh, um… Yeah. But don’t worry, I wasn’t caught up in it. It just caused traffic, that’s all.”

“Was mom…?”

“No, no. She’s in a different part of town tonight.”

When she didn’t look convinced, he decided to change the topic. 

“So… Dad needs to take a bath, because he smells, and then he needs to eat some dinner… but after that, you kids down to watch a movie?”

Rai shouted in ecstatic affirmation from the living room, surprising Denki because he’d nearly forgotten he was even there, and Aika shrugged, taking her glass of green tea with her back into the other room. Well, that was about as excited as she got about anything, so he’d take that as a yes. 

His bath lasted just a bit too long, with him sitting sprawled in the tub, steam clouding the air around him as images of his encounter in the alley flashed through his head. 

His little sister was alive… It seemed almost unreal. And yet, from the look in her eyes, the anger in her tone, she hadn’t managed to forgive him even after all this time. Not surprising, considering what had happened as a result of his betrayal. Still… even knowing that she was almost without a doubt working with their father, and was probably the one who broke him out in the first place and had only showed herself after all these years as part of an intricate plan to get revenge… He couldn’t deny that part of him was still happy. 

However this went down, his already irreparably damaged family was going to get even worse… but he could take this moment, at least, to be grateful for that one small, silver lining. 

After he got out, got dressed, and reheated what was left of the takeout his kids had saved for him in the fridge, he joined them on the couch, and, after some deliberation, the film they decided on was an old classic - Laputa. 

It was old, but it was Kyouka’s favorite, so his kids had kind of been indoctrinated into loving it. Gotta love parenting. Rai sat on Denki’s left, hugging a pillow in his arms and looking far too excited to watch this movie he’d seen three dozen times. Aika sat on her father’s right, and, when she asked if she could play on his phone, he decided to give in. He couldn’t keep it from her forever without causing suspicion, and so long as he could see what she had on the screen, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Not even an hour into the film, however, Rai had fallen asleep. He’d practically squished himself into Denki’s side and was drooling into his shirt. Normally, Denki would have been content with leaving him there on the couch until the movie was over, but his snoring had grown so loud that you couldn’t even hear what was being said. 

He was about to push himself up from the couch so he could carry him to bed when Aika spoke up. 

“Hey, dad?”

“Hmm? What’s up?”

There was a pause, and for a moment he thought she’d become so engrossed in whatever game she was playing that she forgot she’d spoken.

“Does mom… have to be a hero?”

He felt his body tense. 

Oh, great. Here it was…

Denki wasn’t really good with words, or with handling important topics like these. He just knew he was going to say something stupid and screw this up, which would only bode well for when he finally gave her ‘the talk’ (unless he could get Kyouka to do it). 

Still, he was her dad. This was part of the job.  

“Does she have to?” he replied, choosing his words as carefully as he could. “No. But she wants to. Your mom chooses to risk her life every day, to give up her free time, so she can help keep people safe. So other kids’ parents can make it home for dinner every night, even if she can’t.”

There was a quiet pause as Aika watched the phone screen and he watched her. The only other source of light was the pale blue of the television screen.

“Is… Is that what happened to your parents?”

He stopped breathing. 

She had never said a word about his parents before. Never. Not once. 

Slowly, she turned her face away from the phone, her golden eyes glowing in the half-light. 

“You never talk about them, and we don’t have any pictures. We see grandma and grandpa all the time, but your mom and dad… Did… Are they gone? Could a hero have saved them?”

His mouth opened slowly, but no sound came out. His heart had lodged itself in his throat. 

Could a hero have saved them?

No, Aika. No, they couldn’t. 

Heroes are the reason your aunt has been on the run for over a decade.

Heroes are the reason your grandfather was sent to jail. 

Heroes are the reason your grandmother-

He cut the thought off aggressively. No, it wasn’t the heroes’ fault. It was theirs. They made their choices. The Heroes did what they had to to keep people safe. Safe from villains. Safe from his family. 

But that was another conversation. Another one he didn’t want to have. Another one he knew he’d have to. 

He shouldn’t put it off. Now was the time. The sooner the better. She needed to know...

Instead, he managed to unstick his throat and say, “...Yeah, maybe.”

Maybe. If life had been different. If they’d been born different people. If the MLA had never existed. 

Maybe. 

And maybe, if he managed to pull this off without a hitch, if he could lead the Pros to his father and put him back behind bars… Maybe this conversation could happen another day.

There was a moment of silence, and then Aika leaned over and grabbed him in a surprise hug. 

“I’m sorry…” she whispered, her voice barely a squeak. 

“For what?” he asked, his attempt at a laugh coming out more like a gasp. 

“I don’t know,” she replied shakily, “but I’m sorry.”

He brought his arms over to return his daughter’s hug, accidentally upsetting Rai in the process, who promptly toppled over onto Denki’s lap, still asleep and drooling all over his pants. He didn’t mind. 

“Don’t apologize, Aika,” he said softly, stroking her hair. “You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who’s sorry. I promise, I’ll tell you all about my family, just… just not right now. It’s not a happy story.”

There was a pause, and then, “...ok.”

He smiled as they pulled apart, gently wiping at her cheeks, so like her mother’s… and then lightly zapped her with a bit of his electricity. 

“I- hey!” she cried, slapping his hand away and grinning. She didn’t quite have his immunity to electrocution, but her Quirk did afford her a certain level of resistance, so his occasional playful shocks didn’t cause her any harm. 

“Alrighty. Enough bonding. Let’s get drooly here to bed, huh?”

About an hour later, after he’d tucked in both of his kids and cleaned up a bit, saw Denki lying on his back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. Kyouka hadn’t come home yet. She was probably in for another long night. 

He let his eyes close, replaying key moments of the day. Hugging Emi. Hugging Aika. And remembering what it was like when his parents had hugged him. 

Could a Hero have saved them?

If Denki had gone down a different path, if he’d made better decisions… Could he have been that Hero?

Chapter Text

Months had passed since the attack on UA, and the world only seemed to be getting worse. 

It was difficult to say what aspect of the ongoing battle had traumatized the nation more. The death of Endeavor, which meant that Japan had lost yet another Number One Hero in less than a year. The death of All Might, who, though powerless and retired, had still been a beacon of hope for countless citizens and a reminder of when things were better. The destruction of UA, one of the nation’s premier Hero schools, and the safe haven for scores of would-be Heroes. Or the fact that Shigaraki still had yet to be captured. 

The League had continued to make its presence known to the world, but the successor to All For One had not stepped out to take a place under the light. Though most of the nation knew his name and all had seen the devastation wrought by hands that could seemingly do naught but destroy, he remained in the dark, only showing himself when the time came to take down another Pro, slowly eroding society’s foundation one brick at a time. 

It was wrong to assume he was in hiding, however. He wasn’t keeping low because he was being cautious, or because he was concerned about over-extending himself. He did it because he thought it was fun. 

The MLA had changed significantly since Shigaraki’s take over, and in more ways than just its name. Before, though Destro’s ideology had been extolled with religious zeal, though secret meetings had been held throughout the city, though they’d all been unified behind clandestine leaders who plotted behind the scenes for wide-spread national reform, everything had still felt… mostly normal. 

People still worked soul-crushing nine-to-five jobs then went out to drink afterward. Teens still flirted and fought and ditched class to hang out in abandoned lots. Middle-aged women argued over bargain-bin prices. Children chased each other down the street, shouting and playing games. 

They’d been a city of rebels, but they’d still been a city. A city full of ordinary people with ordinary problems, even if they had extraordinary dreams. 

Now, however, with Shigaraki leading the PLF into battle, targeting Hero agencies or police headquarters in surprise guerilla-style raids, killing Pros, killing cops, killing random bystanders… the air that surrounded those who claimed to follow Destro’s rule had shifted. 

For most, this manifested in a sort of pathological terror. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to look closely enough that Shigaraki did not care about Destro’s teachings. Though he would certainly bring about the destruction of society most believed necessary, he had no intention of building it back up again as anything ‘better’. 

Destruction was his end-goal, his reason for being, and anyone who disagreed or got in his way turned to dust. 

This meant that, even if members of the PLF disagreed with him, most were too terrified to voice any level of dissent. Shigaraki alone was a terror to behold; he’d allegedly killed hundreds of MLA members before defeating Re-Destro and taking over, and that was before he’d received All For One’s power. Now, he was a literal one-man army, and with villains like Gigantomachia and Dabi at his side, or Toga who could disguise herself as literally anybody, speaking out against him was tantamount to signing your own death warrant. 

Not everyone was opposed to his takeover, however. Some PLF members embraced his new, more violent methods. There was no doubt he was getting results, after all, and a constant influx of new villains rallying behind society’s new shadow leader, mixed with PLF members occasionally falling to Heroes in their skirmishes, meant that there was steady turnover in their organization. Any devoted member with enough talent and effort could rise through the ranks to become a new leader. 

Many, especially his own mother, had expected Denki to be one such leader. After all, he had skill and a powerful Quirk, and in an elitist meritocracy like the one they were apparently becoming, the latter was really all that mattered. On top of that, he had training both from the MLA and from the Heroes, and he’d played such a big role in the fall of UA. Surely he would rise up alongside the likes of Skeptic or Geten to help lead the PLF towards achieving Destro’s dreams. 

That wasn’t what Denki wanted, however. 

Honestly, even after nearly half a year had passed, as the country fell to pieces around them, he still couldn’t articulate what it was he actually wanted to do. Not even to himself. 

Oh, he participated in fights when he had to. What choice did he have, when one wrong move could see his father or mother or sister disintegrated right in front of his eyes, or burned alive, or crushed beneath a mighty, titanic fist? 

He was never a stand-out in these fights, however, even with his new support gear, courtesy of Detnerat inc. He would hang back, only use enough power to zap an opponent unconscious and only in self-defense, never going all-out, never pushing himself to stand out among the crowd. Every fight was terrifying, but not because he was scared for himself. His true fear was that he would come across one of his classmates. One day, it was going to happen. And then what? What would he do then?

Dabi liked to pay him visits on occasion, with his knowing looks, his condescending smiles. Or else Toga and her intimidating stares, or Compress and his sly jokes. They weren’t being friendly, of course. He could call these visits thinly-veiled threats, but that would imply that any attempt was being made to disguise their intentions. 

They knew he had regrets. They knew he second-guessed. And they also knew he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. It was just fun to watch him suffer. 

The result of his desire to avoid interacting too much with League members, or really anyone particularly devoted to the PLF, was that he spent most of his time hiding away. If he stayed in his room for too long, however, his mother would come after him. And in those days, talking to her was almost as bad. 

He could remember one evening, sitting up on the roof of his parents’ house, hiding from his mother’s judgmental eyes and not-so-subtle questions, watching the sky and wishing he weren’t in the middle of such a large city. The stars were barely visible and the moon had waned to the point where barely a sliver still glowed, but the intermittent cloud cover kept him from admiring it. 

His thoughts, as always, had been on his friends. Wondering where they were, if they were all still alright. Surely, Dabi would have mentioned something if one of them had been killed. He wouldn’t miss the chance to relish in Denki’s pain. The thought was almost comforting. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the footsteps approaching him from behind. 

“Not a great night for stargazing.”

Denki jumped, twisting around only to relax as his father sat himself down beside him, offering him a can of soda. 

“It’s not every day I see you looking so pensive.”

Denki accepted the can but refused to meet his father’s eyes. 

“I came up here to be alone, you know.”

His father chuckled. 

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I’m here? It’s the last place your mother would think to look to find me.”

Denki’s comment hadn’t been intended as an endorsement for his father to use his hideout, too. He’d been trying to get him to leave. Still, knowing his dad, there was little chance of that now.

“Hiding from your wife? Sounds like a picture-perfect marriage…”

His father laughed again, taking a sip of his drink and gazing up at the barely-visible moon. 

“Mmm. Thanks, we try.” After a moment of silence, he turned to his son and said, somewhat abruptly, “Did I ever tell you why I fell in love with Sora?”

Denki turned and shot his father a disinterested look. 

“Remind me why we’re talking about this… now?”

“It was her Quirk,” he continued, pretending as though he didn’t hear him. He must have caught the baffled look on Denki’s face, though, because he burst out laughing. 

Unfortunate thoughts of Todoroki’s father and the rumors he’d heard about Endeavor crept into his mind, but those led to thoughts of the attack on UA, which made him feel nauseous, so he quickly shook them off. 

“What can first attract a person varies wildly,” his father continued. “Sometimes it’s their appearance, sometimes their voice, sometimes their personality… but at its core, it’s always the same thing: compatibility. People are attracted to traits that they find compatible. And I knew from the moment I saw your mother in action that she and I... were compatible.”

Denki turned away to stare back up at the still-shrouded moon. Utter randomness of the conversation aside, he could see where his father was coming from… kinda. 

His mother’s Quirk wasn’t all that impressive. She could create clouds that would sort of hover around her, obscuring people’s vision. They had a diameter of around thirty meters, which was nice, but acting as a smokescreen was about all they were good for. 

Her Quirk had a secondary application, however; whenever people or objects moved around within her cloud, they would gradually develop a static charge. If the charge built up enough, his mother could generate a lightning strike with that person or object as the focal point. 

Her Quirk had multiple drawbacks, however. First, though she could sense everything moving in her cloud, which was great for her, it blinded allies as well as enemies. Second, she couldn’t control who built up the charge or when the lightning strike would happen - meaning her allies were as likely to be hurt by her as her enemies were. Finally, the rate at which the electrical charge built up was very slow. It was all too easy to find her within her cloud and take her out before enough electricity was generated for her to call on the lightning, and since she was always as the center of the cloud, it was pretty easy to figure out where she was. 

She could be situationally useful, sure, but compared to most of the other higher-ranking members of the PLF like Geten or Trumpet or Re-Destro himself, who excelled in raw power or technical skill, she couldn’t hold a candle. Her general weakness played a large role in why she was never promoted to a higher level of leadership like she’d always wanted. 

That being said, his father was right about their compatibility. Renjiro Kaminari’s Quirk was fairly weak as well, all things considered. He could absorb electrical charges, hold them in his body for a time, and then release them at point of contact. He was like a human stun-gun, essentially, but could throw a punch with the force of a lightning bolt if he had enough juice in him. 

The problem was, he couldn’t generate his own electrical current the way that Denki could, meaning he had to wear batteries when he went into battle, and once those were exhausted, he was basically Quirkless. Enter his mother, whose cloud cover could generate all of the electricity his father needed - and since he wasn’t hurt by it himself, her Quirk wasn’t a threat to him. He could hide in her cloud cover, constantly generating the electricity he needed to fight while she directed him to where any opponents were. They made a great team. 

And he had no idea why his dad was bringing this up. 

“The point is,” his father continued as though he could read Denki’s mind, “up until I met your mother, I didn’t really have much going for me. I wasn’t the brightest student, didn’t have any aspirations, my Quirk was nothing all that special, and my dedication to the cause… Well, anyway. Once I met Sora, though, all of that changed. My outlook on the world changed. And even though times are hard now, well… I found my reason to fight.”

He was skirting awfully close to a dangerous topic. ‘Times are hard now’ was vague enough to potentially refer to anything, but they both knew he was talking about the direction that Shigaraki had taken them. They were technically out in the open, where anyone could be listening. They’d need to choose their words with care.

The only problem was, Denki still wasn’t in the mood for this impromptu heart-to-heart.

“That’s great, dad,” he said, staring down at his still-unopened can of soda. “I’m real happy for you.”

His father gave a defeated sigh, accepting the dismissal and climbing to his feet. But he hesitated before walking away. 

“I know you’ve had it rough, Denki,” he said softly, barely loud enough to be heard over the breeze, “and I know you’ve been questioning your place here. You don’t want to talk about it, and that’s ok. But until the day comes when you find that person or place that you’re compatible with, well… I hope you don’t ever feel like you’re not compatible here, with the people who love you. Don’t forget who it is you’re fighting for.”

He reached out, squeezing his shoulder, before turning and walking away. 

A moment later, Denki Kaminari was alone again. 

He was talking about their family, Denki knew, not the MLA or PLF or whatever they called themselves now. His father had found his reason to fight, and that reason was his wife and, now, his kids, and he was trying to tell him, without directly saying the words, that he wasn’t fighting for Shigaraki or the PLF either. He was just trying to protect what mattered. 

The problem was, Denki had already found the place where he was most compatible. It was a high school, with his stupid friends and uptight teachers. A place that stood diametrically opposed to what his family was fighting for. And he had already betrayed them. 

So what was he supposed to do now that he’d already thrown them away?

It had been a few days since his run-in with Emi, but Denki hadn’t heard a peep from her since. 

Without any way of contacting her himself, and with the police and Heroes still waffling over whether they’d agree to use him as bait, most of Denki’s free time had been spent stewing in poorly-concealed frustration over his utter lack of agency. 

He wasn’t a Pro, like his wife or his friends, who could actively spend their time hunting down Denki’s father and the PLF, taking the fight straight to them. He was just a civilian and an ex-convict at that. He didn’t have the right to take this fight into his own hands, for all that the fight was centered around him anyway. He knew the law - he even agreed with it - but it was still incredibly frustrating to know that he was essentially being told to sit tight and let the grown-ups handle things while he twiddled his thumbs in the corner, useless. 

And it didn’t help that he’d received a call earlier that week from his translator job, telling him the company had decided to ‘go in a different direction’ and that he was being laid off. Denki’s work ethic had been fine, better even than some of his peers - something he knew from past performance reviews. No, the timing of this made the actual reasoning clear. 

It had nothing to do with the company moving in a different direction, or with his performance. It was because, when word of his father’s escape from prison hit the news, a resurgence of stories about Denki’s stint as the UA Traitor rose to the surface, replaying on news stations across the nation, and the company didn’t want to be associated with that. 

In a removed way, he couldn’t exactly blame them. But in a much more personal way, he could and absolutely did. 

He didn’t need the job financially. In fact, Kyouka was constantly reminding him that, between her Hero work and her side gig as a musician, Denki didn’t need to work at all. He could be a full-time stay-at-home dad or devote his extra time to his talents or passions if he wanted. Honestly, he was incredibly lucky, and he knew that… but what his wife didn’t seem to understand was that Denki didn’t work because he wanted to. He did it because he needed to. 

He needed to keep himself busy. To stave away the feeling that he was a drain, on her, on their friends, on society. His life, up to this moment, had been a steady stream of failures. He failed to become a Hero. He failed to protect his friends. He failed to protect his family. His failures had made him a literal menace to society in the past and, in the present, made it hard to hold down a job. 

Denki didn’t need a successful career. He just didn’t want to feel like a failure anymore.

Luckily for him, his second job as a backup electrician didn’t seem to care about Denki’s past, or maybe they just didn’t pay any attention to the news. Regardless, it seemed as though the number of calls he’d been getting from them had risen in the past few days, and as this coincided with his release from his other job, he couldn’t have been happier about it. 

Whenever he got a call, he’d leave his kids in the company of his in-laws (either by having them come over or by dropping them off at their house) and head out, grateful to be out of the house. He was supposed to have a bodyguard, he knew, but honestly, it was such a hassle and it made people give him weird looks on the street. Plus, if he were being honest, having a tag-along might dissuade his father from making a move on him, and the sooner he did, the sooner they could get this all over with. He was growing tired of waiting. 

On the way back after one such call, Denki decided to make a pit stop at a run-down old mom-and-pop convenience store on the corner of an old alleyway. It was hot out, and he’d promised the kids he’d pick them up some ice cream on the way home, and right about now, he could really use one too. 

It was a small store, no bigger than your average gas station, manned by a singular employee who was flipping through a magazine behind the register, hardly paying him any notice. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t much in the mood for conversation right now anyway. 

Grateful for the soothing gust of the air conditioner, Denki made his way to the row of freezers in the back of the shop, examining the various shelves of frozen treats with a critical eye. Rai liked anything that was chocolate, so he was easy. Aika liked caramel or strawberry… but weirdly, it didn’t seem like this store had any. Would macha be ok? Hopefully. He’d get some for himself, too, so with any luck, she’d be ok with it.

He was just turning away from the cashier and ready to head out of the door when it happened. 

The electric doors slid open, and in walked a pair of sour-faced, middle-aged men. The one in front was a short, stockier fellow with a patchy crew-cut, a tacky golden necklace, and no irises. The second was lanky, thin like a pole, with a head like an earthworm and a shock of bright green hair. 

Both men smiled unpleasantly when they saw him.

“Found you, Kaminari.”

Every muscle in his body went rigid. 

The shorter man’s voice was raspy and thin, like a career smoker, and as he spoke, his too-fat lips parted to reveal several golden teeth sparkling behind his satisfied smirk.

“Pretty ballsy of you to be struttin’ around without a care in the world. Livin’ free, when so many of your brothers and sisters are locked up in prison.”

Denki licked his lips, trying to calm his racing heart and consider his options.

“Miss,” he said, voice low, addressing the cashier who still hadn’t caught on to what was happening, “the cops. Call the cops.”

“What?”

The earthworm man sneered contemptuously. 

“Call the-!”

“Banzai!”

Denki threw himself to the side at the last second, hitting the dirty linoleum hard and sliding partway down the aisle as literal lasers erupted from the shorter man’s eyes, lighting up the store in a blinding phosphorescent glow and burning furrows into the floor from exactly where Denki had been standing all the way back to the wall. The cashier’s scream was drowned out in the wail of the fire alarm as the acrid scent of smoke and melted plaster filled the air. 

Panic-stricken, Denki forced himself up on all-fours, abandoning his plastic bag of ice cream and hastily scrambling down the aisle, throwing himself forward around the corner of a shelf as his unnamed assailants began their pursuit. 

Whoever they were, he didn’t recognize them, but the shorter man had said ‘Banzai’. That was proof, as if he’d needed any, that he was an old member of the PLF. ‘Banzai for the Liberation of Super Powers’ had been the catchphrase of some of the more radical MLA members, back before Shigaraki had taken over. He must be an older member, then. But one who had escaped being arrested? Or was he one who had broken out with his father?

Desperate to stay out of sight lest he take a laser straight to the face, Denki stayed low, struggling to quiet his breathing so they wouldn’t hear him. 

The convenience store was pretty small, however, with only about five rows and two columns of shelves between the outer windows and the wall of refrigerators in the back. Two against one, with the enemy blocking the exit… his odds weren’t looking too hot. 

He heard a scuffle by the register, followed by a muffled scream. 

Crap… the cashier. He could hear Aizawa’s voice echoing out from his memories, teaching, chastising. Protecting civilians was a Hero’s number one priority. He’d neglected the most basic of basics.

Except… he wasn’t a Hero. He was just another civilian. There was no reason he should be feeling guilty about not immediately going to help her. Well, except for the fact that these idiots were only here because of him. 

He shook his head, chasing the thought off. That wasn’t his fault, either. More importantly, they weren’t going to hurt her. At least, not yet. If they were from the PLF, then they knew all about his Quirk - which meant they knew that he could take them both out easily if he wanted to with a full-powered electric blast, but doing so would harm the cashier too, so long as she was still around. They were likely using her as a shield. 

With a hostage at play, being out-numbered, and not being able to fully use his Quirk, his best bet was to wait for help to arrive. The cashier hadn’t called the cops, but the laser blast had triggered the fire alarm. Surely someone would be here soon… but unless they got here in seconds, they weren’t going to be of any help to him. 

Casting his eyes about frantically for anything he could use to buy time, he spotted a rickety door in the corner that led to the bathroom. Well… it was better than cowering behind a shelf. And maybe the bathroom had a window? A man could dream. 

Denki crouch-ran to the door, which was about as awkward and uncomfortable as it sounded. The earthworm gave a shout when he saw Denki move, but there really had been no hope of him getting to the bathroom without being spotted anyway. 

He threw the door open and scrambled inside, relieved and surprised that he hadn’t immediately been met by another laser blast, and, after trying to lock the door only to realize the lock was broken (because of course it was), he turned to quickly assess his new surroundings. 

The bathroom was small, dingy, and gross. And there were no windows. 

There was, however, a small pile of cleaning supplies in the corner, including a mop and a bucket, a wet floor sign, a small metal step-ladder, and a plunger. 

Great. 

The door behind him burst open, revealing the short, white-eyed man and, behind him, the earthworm, who had his wriggly hands wrapped over the cashier’s mouth. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her head, tear-filled and frantic above her muffled whimpers as she struggled in vain to escape her captor’s clutches. 

Desperately, Denki reached out behind him and grabbed the first thing he touched, whipping it forward and holding it aloft between him and his pursuers like a sword. 

It was the plunger. 

“Get back!” he shouted, hoping he sounded less ridiculous than he looked. 

The shorter man snorted a laugh, implying to Denki that, yes, he did sound as dumb as he felt, but Denki was more focused on the man’s eyes. 

They were red-rimmed, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. That laser blast… did using it hurt him? Was that why he hadn’t fired a second one the moment Denki ran to the bathroom? Did that mean he maybe needed to rest between blasts, and, if so, did Denki still have a chance to escape?

“A plunger?” the shorter man sneered. “Is that really the best you got?”

“We’re in a public restroom,” Denki replied, breathless, casting about wildly for something to say and desperately praying to every Shinto god he could think of for help. “Do you have any idea of the horrors this plunger has seen?”

To his complete and utter disbelief, this seemed to actually give his assailants pause. 

After a moment of eyeing the plunger distastefully, the shorter man nudged his friend and said, “Hey. Switch with me.”

“What?”

“That’s gross, man, I don’t wanna touch it.”

“So? Neither do I.”

“Yeah, but you’re a worm. Isn’t this, like… normal for you guys?”

The taller man spluttered indignantly. 

“I… Wha… That’s discrimination!”

Deciding that his totally-intentional distraction tactic was a spectacular success, Denki threw the plunger at his would-be attackers and watched as both grown men shrieked in terror and jumped away. Impossibly, the earthworm even let his hostage slip through his fingers. Who were these idiots?

Though… maybe his hands were just naturally slippery. He was a worm, after all. That had to be rough.

Before they could recover, Denki reached for another object, foregoing the mop and instead grabbing the step-ladder, which he awkwardly swung at the shorter man like a club. 

White-Eyes had recovered by this point, however, and easily caught the ladder in both hands, snarling up at Denki. 

“Enough games,” he spat. “We’ve got you right where we want you.”

Still breathless, Denki smiled. 

“Ditto.”

His Quirk activated, electricity coursing through his body, traveling through the metal step-ladder and into the shorter man’s body. 

All at once, his body locked up, his muscles going rigid, his limbs jerking and spasming wildly before slumping over sideways when Denki released his Quirk. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, still twitching, his face disgustingly close to the bottom of the toilet. 

Satisfied, Denki turned his attention to the earthworm, who was staring, stupefied, at his unconscious companion, and hefted his step-ladder like it was a legitimate weapon. 

“One down,” he said, praying he sounded intimidating. 

Then, without warning, a figure burst in through the front door. 

“It’s alright, everyone!” an overly-enthusiastic voice shouted, its owner pausing in front of the sliding glass door for dramatic effect, “Your Hero has arrived!”

Denki, the earthworm, and the cashier all turned to stare. 

Whoever she was, Denki didn’t know her, but she was clearly a Pro - and a new one at that. 

She had healthy brown skin the color of a hazelnut, with wild black hair tied up with colorful feathers stuck through the bun. Judging from the tribal face paint, the brown vest, leather pants, and moccasins, she was… clearly supposed to be themed after some indigenous tribe from… somewhere. Not Japan, at any rate. Also, she had a series of small throwing axes and knives strapped to her waist and back. 

After a moment of awkward silence, she finally noticed the trio in the back corner of the store. 

“Aha!” she shouted theatrically, snatching one of the throwing axes off of her hip and giving it a practiced toss, “I’ve got you now, villain!”

The earthworm gave a yelp and ducked low, but he shouldn’t have bothered. The axe arched through the air with supernatural grace, never coming close to him. Instead, it zipped around him and collided painfully with Denki’s hand, eliciting a sharp cry from the blond, knocking the step-ladder from his hands. 

“What are you doing?!” Denki snapped, irate, as he massaged his sore wrist. Had she just chucked an axe at him? Was she crazy?!

“Uh-”

“HE is the villain! Not me!”

The earthworm stared dumbly at Denki for a moment, before snatching the step-ladder up from off the floor. 

Desperate, Denki threw himself in front of the cashier as though to shield her with his body, but the earthworm turned back and hurled the makeshift weapon through one of the large window panes separating the inside of the store from the deserted street outside. A moment later, he was leaping through the newly-formed hole, vanishing down the street. 

“Stop!” the Hero shouted in vain, chasing after him, while fumbling at her waist for another weapon, and a moment later, Denki was left alone with the cashier. 

Denki sighed. A large part of him wanted to give chase too, but… Well, now that a Pro was on the case, his work here was done. If he tried anything else, it’d be considered vigilantism, and he’d get arrested. 

Quickly checking the bathroom to make sure White-Eyes was still out, Denki stooped down to pick up the discarded throwing axe (the edge was blunt; maybe this Hero wasn’t a complete moron) before turning his attention to the cashier, who was still leaning back against one of the many refrigerator doors, looking shell-shocked. 

“Are you ok?”

The woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties, jumped in surprise. 

“O-oh, um… Yes, I… I think so.”

She was in shock. He needed to get her out of here. The wail of the fire alarm wasn’t helping, and it was starting to give him a headache.

“Come on,” he said, doing his best to sound comforting and flashing her his brightest smile. “The police should be here soon. Let’s wait for them outside.”

Plus, it would be better to get away from ol’ White-Eyes in case he got up again. But he didn’t need to put that fear into this poor woman’s head, so he left that bit unsaid. 

Outside, in the early evening, away from the burning smell that permeated the inside of the convenience store, it was almost peaceful. Well, other than the fire alarm, that is. The sound had begun attracting a few bystanders who were gawking at the ruined window, but the street was still mostly empty. 

Carefully, Denki led the frightened woman across the street and sat her down on the curb. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked, trying to remember how Aizawa had taught him to deal with frightened victims after an attack. “Water? I can snag one from the store for you.”

“...No, thank you.”

“I didn’t mean I’d steal it,” he laughed. “I’ll totally pay, I swear-”

“No, really. I’m alright.”

She seemed to be coming around, at least a little, but she looked exhausted now in addition to being frightened. 

Denki gingerly sat down beside her while they waited. There had to be something he could do to help.

“You know, you did a pretty good job back there.”

The woman turned to him in surprise, and Denki smiled. 

“I just mean, most people completely fall apart in situations like that. I’m impressed with how well you’re keeping things together.”

The woman looked down at her shoes. 

“You sound like you have experience.”

He winced. Dangerous territory.

“Ah, well… I’m not a Hero or anything, but… let’s just say I’ve been in a scrap or two. I know what I’m talking about.”

“I believe it.” She looked back up and offered him a small smile. “You handled yourself pretty well. With a powerful Quirk like yours, you could probably be a Hero if you wanted.”

Denki turned away, letting out a polite chuckle and trying to fight down the wave of bitterness that came over him as he remembered the actual Pro who came to help and wound up attacking the wrong person. Then again, who was he to judge? His first instinct should have been to help this woman when the attack started, and he failed at that. Then he only barely managed to take down one of the attackers, and the second one had escaped. 

If anything, tonight had demonstrated just how surely that ship had sailed. Bakugou, Kirishima, Mina, Sero… any of his old classmates could have done better than he had. 

“I was useless,” the woman continued, sounding tired. “If I had a strong Quirk like yours…”

“You Quirkless?” Denki asked, grateful for the change in topic. 

“I may as well be,” she replied with a self-deprecating chuckle. “My Quirk just makes me smell like kiwis.”

Denki could only stare, flabbergasted, as the strong smell of kiwis suddenly flooded the air. 

That had to be the most useless Quirk he’d ever heard of. 

“Well,” he said after a moment, desperately racking his brain for something positive or encouraging to say, “at least you… don’t ever need to buy deodorant?”

To his complete surprise, the woman broke down laughing. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped after a moment. “It’s just… for a moment there, you sounded just like my son.”

He watched, bemused, as the woman doubled over, trying and failing to hide her laughter behind her hands. It was probably stress. His joke hadn’t been that funny. Still, the sight of her smiling left him smiling, too.

Around the distant street corner came the rapidly-nearing sound of a police siren, followed by the flashing lights that heralded the arrival of the first responders.

Encouraging the woman to stay seated for now, Denki stood up, waiting for the police and firefighters to draw near so he could give his account about what happened. As he did, his eyes drifted to the convenience store, with its shattered window and the chunk of wall he could see that had been taken out by that villain’s laser blast. 

The police were right. The PLF really was coming after him. This woman had been put in danger simply because he’d chosen to stop here on a whim for some ice cream. 

How much longer until it was his kids who were caught in the crossfire? 

Chapter Text

The morning after the attack at the convenience store saw Denki heading once more into the Heights Alliance Hero offices to meet up with Detective Nakamura. The bright early August sunshine had the sky overhead glowing a cheerful blue, but the sweat dripping down Denki’s back was chill. He was not looking forward to this meeting. 

In a twisted sort of way, he felt like he was being called to the principal’s office. Maybe it was because of the innate air of authority that the detective gave off. Maybe it was because she had the ability to punish him and he could do nothing about it. Or maybe it was because he’d just gotten into a fight and felt like someone was going to scold him. 

After pressing his keycard against the scanner and nodding to the security guard, the double-doors opened with an air-conditioned swoosh and Denki stepped into the atrium with a grateful sigh. He may not be looking forward to being here, but at least it was nice and cool inside. Summers in Japan could be down-right sweltering.

Aika and Rai stepped in with him, Aika playing on his phone as always and Rai vigorously picking his nose. 

Sero stepped in behind them, flashing a familiar smile towards the receptionist behind her large, gilded mahogany desk (which made her look more like a queen than a receptionist, but that was just how things were done at Heights Alliance) and then grimaced comically when he caught sight of Rai wiping his golden nose treasure on his pants. He was fully decked out in his Hero gear despite the fact that he wasn’t on patrol duty today. He’d wanted to make sure that he was recognized on the street.

“Want me to watch them for a bit?” he asked, nodding to the kids in a significant way, but Denki shook his head. 

“Nah. Kyouka told Inaba we were coming, and-”

“Gizmo’s here?” Aika cut in, turning her attention away from the phone for the first time since leaving the apartment, her golden eyes suddenly alert. 

“Well, yeah. He does work here.”

His daughter returned her gaze to her phone without comment, but he noticed the small smile on her face and rolled his eyes. 

“Gotcha,” Sero continued as though they hadn’t been interrupted. “In that case, I’ve got some reports to file that I’ve been putting off. See you later!”

With a friendly pat on the shoulder and duel affectionate hair-ruffles for the kids, Sero headed off towards the elevators, all grins and good vibes. That man never changed. 

After the incident yesterday evening, Denki had been released by the police at the site and had hurried home, escorted by an officer for his own safety lest he be accosted again by more villainous ne’er-do-wells. He’d called Kyouka and left a message letting her know he was fine and then almost immediately received a call from Bakugou, who called him six different kinds of idiot before informing him that his presence was required the following morning at the office for another meeting with Nakamura. 

He assumed this was just another interrogation and that it was being put off because she was too busy that evening, so he agreed. But the problem was, his in-laws would be gone the following morning and he had no one to leave his kids with. 

Hence them tagging along with him this morning. 

Sero accompanying them on the trip wasn’t an accident either. After the attack, he was more nervous than ever to let his kids out in public, especially if they were with him, seeing as he was apparently a magnet for crazies nowadays. Sero agreed to tag along as both bodyguard and deterrent, appearing shortly after Denki and his kids left the building and acting like he’d just ‘accidentally’ bumped into them so his kids wouldn’t question. 

He still hadn’t told Aika the truth yet. Rai, in his mind, was too young to understand. He could wait until he was a little bit older. But Aika… Every day he put this off, he knew it would be harder. But the thought of telling her last night, right after he’d been attacked on the street… he was worried it would frighten her too much. 

He realized he’d been standing still for too long when Rai, who was holding his hand, let his legs give out so he could swing around like Tarzan. 

“Alright, come on,” he said, tugging Rai back up and setting him on his feet. “Your mom’s office is on which floor?”

“The seventh!” Rai shouted, all energy just like always. 

“Alright! Move out!”

The elevators in Heights Alliance were fancy, with dark wood paneling and lush purple carpet and overhead speakers that piped out only the smoothest of elevator-worthy jazz. Denki picked Rai up so he could press the button and winced when he missed and hit floor nine by mistake. Ah well. So an empty elevator was going up to floor nine after they got off. Not the end of the world. 

On the third floor, the elevator stopped, the door opened, and in stepped an unexpected sight. 

“Ah…” The young, familiar woman hesitated when her gaze met Denki’s. “Hey! It’s you!”

“Oh, yeah,” he answered awkwardly, trying his best to sound polite. “You’re, um…”

“Tomahawk!” she finished, with a smile so wide it rivaled his own in cheesiness. 

“Yeah, that’s right! Tomahawk, from last night.”

“That’s me! I’m so happy you remembered!” And with noticeable bounce, she entered the elevator, along with an older woman who might have been a secretary. 

Tomahawk was out of uniform today, which was probably why Denki had such a hard time placing her face. With her hair down and wearing a trendy top and jeans, she kind of looked like every college kid ever and not at all like a Pro Hero. 

The second woman, whom Denki didn’t recognize and who seemed to be on the elevator with Tomahawk by chance and not because they were together, flashed a kind, grandmotherly smile at Denki’s kids before murmuring in what he was sure she thought was a congenial tone, “How cute. Is Daddy playing babysitter today?”

Denki had to actually fight to keep his (admittedly awkward) smile on his face. He knew she meant nothing by it, but in the many years since Denki had become a father, he’d gathered up a list of personal ‘Dad Pet Peeves’; y’know, annoying societal ‘norms’ or sexist double-standards that negatively affect single or stay-at-home fathers. And her comment was pretty high on the list. 

Why is it that when people saw a dad with his kids in public they assumed he was ‘babysitting’? You don’t call a mom a babysitter when she’s with her kids. He’s their father, he’s not being paid to do this. What’s up with that? 

Also, why do so many men’s restrooms not have baby-changing stations? The best part about Rai finally being potty-trained was that Denki no longer had to worry about what he’d do if he had to change his diaper in public. 

And don’t even get him started on how uncomfortable it could be to take his kids to the park or the pool and be on the receiving end of two dozen sketchy looks from scandalized middle-aged women who were convinced he was a sexual predator. He’d actually had the police called on him more than once. Though, according to Mineta, he did have a downright villainous face.

“Uh,” Tomahawk cut in, looking bewildered. “Are you… feeling ok?”

Denki blinked, then shook his head. 

Whoa. He just got lost down a rabbit hole again. 

“Sorry,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head and producing a much more natural smile. “Was kinda… lost in thought there.”

“So what brings you here today?” she asked as the elevator paused on the fifth floor to let the unnamed older woman out. Ojiro’s office was somewhere on this floor, he knew, but he didn’t have time to go and say hello. “Something to do with the incident last night?”

“What happened last night?” Aika piped up from his side. 

“Uh, n-nothing!” he said quickly, flashing Tomahawk a significant look. “There was just another villain attack on the street and I happened to see it, that’s all.”

“Oh, uh… yeah!” Tomahawk chimed in, sounding just as unconvincing as Denki did, but to her credit, she was at least trying her hardest. “That’s where we met! He got to see me on the job for the first time since I was transferred here, being all super heroic and…!”

It was here that she seemed to remember that she’d actually attacked him by mistake and let the villain escape, and her rambling cut off into shame-faced silence. 

“Do you work with mom?” Aika continued, thankfully moving on with the conversation, and Tomahawk blinked. 

“Your mom? Does your mom work here? Ooh, do I know her?”

“Our mom’s the best!” Rai chimed in as though that were supposed to be an answer. “She’s a Hero! She bets… She beats bad guys’ butts!”

He then proceeded to snicker uncontrollably as though saying the word ‘butts’ in public was comedy gold.

The elevator finally arrived at the seventh floor, and his kids filed out, apparently forgetting all about the conversation they’d sort-of been having a moment earlier, leaving their dad to bid the rookie Hero farewell. He flashed an apologetic smile to the still-confused Tomahawk and said, as he walked out, “Sorry ‘bout them. Their mom is Earphone Jack. See you around, Tomahawk!”

From the look on her face, you would have thought he’d chucked a rotten tomato at her. 

“Their mom is… so then you are… but you… last night…”

As he watched the elevator doors close, bemused, he saw her clap her hands to her cheeks in cartoonish horror.

A moment later, after the elevator began to rise, he thought he heard her wail, “Why is this going to the ninth floor?!”

Well. That was weird. He turned back to the office with a shrug. 

The fun thing about the office of a Pro Hero is how there’s really nothing at all fun about the office of a Pro Hero. You’d imagine they’d be super cool, decked out with only the craziest and most futuristic of gadgets and whatnot, but… Honestly, they looked like every other office in existence. A smattering of cubicles, a dozen or so Pros or sidekicks lethargically typing away behind their standard-issue monitors, their eyes glazed with uninhibited boredom. They had meeting rooms, copier machines, and even a coffee pot in the break room that no one ever seemed to bother refilling. Bartleby would feel right at home here.

Sure, there were a few standout features. Most offices probably didn’t have large boards on the walls with pictures of suspects or victims or maps of entire subdivisions tacked up, connected by strings as the people who worked on them struggled to piece together patterns. And most offices probably followed a dress code that was less… colorful. But at least within the offices themselves, where little was done aside from typing up reports, holding meetings with other Heroes within and without of your agency, or doing the research that couldn’t be done in the field, everything was pretty dull. 

That was just within the floors that held the various Hero offices, of course. Other floors in Heights Alliance were dedicated gyms or training facilities, labs, workshops, a cafeteria, and even a sauna with a staffed masseuse (strictly for medicinal purposes, of course). Denki came down to workout with his friends every once in a while and even sparred with them occasionally. It was pretty great. 

The offices themselves were still mind-numbingly dull, however. 

“Uncle Gizmo!”

“Hey hey! If it isn’t my two favorite students!”

Both of Denki’s kids broke away from him, racing forward into one of the nearby cubicles where a scrawny man in a lab coat with thick, round glasses and unkempt dark hair sat sprawled at his desk, looking exhausted. 

‘Uncle Gizmo’ was obviously not really Aika and Rai’s uncle. Gizmo, aka Tetsuo Inaba, was a family friend and actually one of Kyouka’s oldest sidekicks. He was a younger man in his early twenties, with a thin, lanky body and large ears (not, like, Quirk mutation large; just normal large). On more than one occasion, Denki had remarked that Gizmo kind of looked like the host of a kids show about science… which made sense, since that was the vibe he was going for with his outfit.

His Quirk was called ‘Welding’; he could fuse any two pieces of metal together seamlessly, or separate a piece of metal into smaller pieces without needing to use any kind of cutting tool. Probably because of what his Quirk was, he’d developed a fascination with mechanical engineering, and assisted Kyouka and the other Pros in the office by constructing tools for them either in the office or on the fly in the field. He could also perform maintenance on their gear. 

He wasn’t much of a fighter, but that was why him partnering with Kyouka made the most sense. She specialized in recon and support, after all. Different Heroes specialized in different things. If a big brute was smashing up downtown, you called in Deku or Bakugou. If debris needed clearing after a natural disaster, Uraraka or Sato were your go-to. And if someone’s Quirk was letting them sneak around the city unseen, you’d need someone like Kyouka.

He’d asked Gizmo once why, with his Quirk, he hadn’t gone into another field, like developing Support Gear, or even just… normal mechanical engineering. But, as he’d sheepishly explained, his heart was set on being a Hero, and that was that. Denki hadn’t ever asked again. He knew the feeling. 

He followed his kids into Gizmo’s cubicle, basically looking for any excuse to delay his meeting with Nakamura for even another second, and smirked in amusement as the younger man energetically high-fived his daughter like he was an overly-enthusiastic tour guide at a museum, before holding his hand up to Rai and then, after a brief moment of panic, jerked the hand back, laughed awkwardly, and offered the boy a fist-bump instead. 

Denki rolled his eyes. 

“He’s getting better at controlling it, you know.”

“I-I know!” Gizmo said quickly, clearly thinking he’d accidentally offended Rai, who wasn’t actually paying attention as he busied himself with touching anything and everything on Gizmo’s desk. “It’s just… well, I mean, we wouldn’t want an accident, and… we are in the office.”

He sent a concerned look towards his computer and Denki shook his head, amused. 

Raiden's Quirk had manifested for the first time during last year’s office Christmas party, and he’d managed to do quite a bit of damage. 

Unlike Aika, whose Quirk seemed to be a straight-forward and generally harmless fusion of both Denki and Kyouka’s, Rai’s Quirk was, in many ways, unique. He could, by clapping his hands or even just slapping his palms against something, generate powerful concussive sound waves. And as one could imagine, giving that kind of power to an overly-energetic four-year-old was a recipe for complete and utter chaos. 

On the night of the Christmas party, he’d started applauding along with everyone else at the end of a speech (clearly just because everyone else was clapping and he wanted to join in), and had managed to not only blow out all of the windows in the room but also the eardrums of everyone sitting around him. Denki included. 

Sometimes, he still thought he could hear his ears ringing. 

His Quirk wasn’t a mutation like Eri’s, though. At least, Denki didn’t think so. It was obviously sound-based, like his mothers, and he could generate the sound himself and do so uncontrollably, much like Denki and his electricity. So in a way, Rai’s Quirk was a fusion of his parents’ abilities, too. Just… in a much louder way than his sister. 

They’d had to get Rai to wear special gloves until they’d taught him to be careful with his hands. Denki had felt gross about it at the time, like he was conditioning a dog, but what other choice was there when an accident meant loads of property damage and injuries? Especially when his wife’s hearing was already so sensitive. But that’s just what it meant to raise a kid with a Quirk.

“So anyway,” Gizmo pressed on, changing the subject, “I heard about yesterday. You alright?”

“Yeah.” He sent a cautious look at his kids, who were fiddling with some action figures that Gizmo kept on his desk, not listening. Giz was smart enough to know what not to say around his children. “It was a little surprising, but… at least they managed to catch one of them. Too bad the other one got away.”

To Denki’s surprise, Gizmo laughed. 

“Yeah, Hayase’s got to be mortified - especially since it was you of all people. I heard she attacked you by mistake. Jirou was livid…”

“Hayase?”

“Ah, sorry. Tomahawk. The Pro who was first on the scene. She and I actually go back a long way - I’ve known her since we were kids. She’s a bit flighty, but she’s got the heart of a Hero. She just needs to think more before she leaps.”

“What do you mean by ‘since it was me’? You mean, because of…?”

He made an obtuse gesture with his fingers, trying to articulate without verbalizing his connection to the PLF, but Gizmo quickly shook his head. 

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just, uh…” 

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, then leaned forward and lowered his voice a bit. 

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Hayase has been a big fan of Earphone Jack for years now. She considers herself to be her biggest fan. She actually applied to be her sidekick and got turned down - not because she wasn’t good enough, Jirou just wasn’t in the market for any more sidekicks at the time. Lucky for her that Creati decided to give her a chance so she could at least be in the same office as her idol, but then… well, after yesterday…”

Denki winced. Honestly, he’d been kind of dismissive of the rookie Hero, especially after she’d goofed up so badly before. And to be fair, she did hit him with an axe. He had the right to judge. But, y’know, she’d seemed like a good kid, and hearing that she thought so highly of his wife gave her major bonus points in his book. He actually felt kind of bad for her. 

Well, hopefully she’d be able to use yesterday as a learning moment. 

Funny that he was calling her a ‘good kid’ in his head when he wasn’t even a decade older than her. Man, he was getting old…

“Hey, Sparky! The hell are you doing?!”

Ignoring the unpleasant way his stomach seemed to clench, Denki exchanged brief eye-rolls with Gizmo before turning around to face the newcomer. 

“Well well, if it isn’t Kacchan! I’d know that dulcet tone of yours anywhere!”

Bakugou scowled as he stomped his way across the room towards him. Though, to be fair, Bakugou was always scowling, so that didn’t actually say anything about his current emotional state. 

“We’ve been waiting for you in the breakroom, you bastard. Why are you standing around like an idiot and wasting my time?”

Denki forced an apologetic smile, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just had to drop my kids off real quick.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes with a dismissive ‘tch’, but when he reached Denki’s side, he glanced into the cubicle and flashed the kids his least hostile smirk. 

“Hey, brats.”

“Says the brat,” Aika shot back immediately, scowling up at Bakugou, but from the tugging at the corner of her lips, there was no actual hostility in her words. Rai just shouted - no words, just a long ‘aaahhhh!’ - as he ran to give his parents’ friend a hug. 

One would probably expect most kids to be afraid of Bakugou - and, well, yes, most were - but Denki and Kyouka’s kids had spent enough time around the gruff, callous Hero that they’d become accustomed to his anti-social tendencies and it didn’t bother them anymore. 

Rai in particular was especially fond of Bakugou, largely because Bakugou was fond of him. After Rai’s Quirk had manifested, the ensuing commotion had scared him so badly that he was afraid to touch things with his hands because he didn’t understand how his Quirk worked. It was Bakugou who had managed to help him out the most since he too had a Quirk that made his hands dangerous. He’d been a tremendous help coaxing Rai out of his fear and helping him learn how to acclimate to his new powers. 

“Alright, hurry up,” Bakugou continued after managing to extract his leg from Rai. “We don’t have all day, unlike some people.”

Denki ignored the dig - or tried to - and turned back to Gizmo one last time to make sure he was good. 

“Don’t worry, I got it,” the younger man said with a dismissive wave. “Actually, I built something that I’ve been meaning to show Aika for a while anyway. Take as long as you need.”

Aika had perked up at the mention of her name, and realizing neither of his kids were paying him any attention anymore, he took a deep breath and started off after Bakugou across the office towards one of the meeting rooms in the corner. 

He was glad Kyouka’s sidekick was in the office today. If Rai had a soft-spot for Bakugou, Aika had a soft spot for Gizmo. Ever since discovering what her Quirk could do, he’d been building her little toys and trinkets in his spare time that she could manipulate or play with by plugging her ears into them, which seemed to entertain her to no end. 

Powered by the low-level electricity that she generated (which wasn’t nearly as strong as Denki’s; she couldn’t shoot it out or weaponize it directly, but she could use it to power small devices that she plugged her ears into), she’d amassed a collection of Uncle Gizmo’s toys over the past few years, ranging from moving figures to things that lit up or even a few music boxes that had her mom’s songs on them. He made toys for Rai too, so he didn’t feel left out, but there was clearly a difference. 

Crossing the office had taken all of thirty seconds, if that, which was not nearly enough time for Denki to mentally prepare himself. His anxiety over this meeting was reaching its crescendo. 

He knew in his heart that he was being a bit paranoid, but… well, considering his past, he felt justified. The attack yesterday had not been his fault, and according to the law, he was perfectly allowed to defend himself, even with his Quirk, if his life was in danger. And Denki wasn’t an idiot; he’d taken extra care to make sure his Quirk usage wasn’t life-threatening and hadn’t damaged the property… but when you’re an ex-con, a lot of people don’t seem to care about things like that. Some people, law enforcement in particular, had a tendency to see what they wanted or expected to see. 

And when an ex-member of a terrorist cult who had previously been to jail regarding his actions in said cult had been involved in a violent altercation involving Quirks, well… 

Nakamura was seated at the table typing away at her laptop with robotic precision, her posture so perfect it looked painful. She glanced up only after Bakugou had shut the door behind her, but once again, she seemed completely unaffected by Denki’s thousand-watt smile. This woman was so stone-faced, she could give Kirishima a run for his money. 

“Mr. Kaminari, finally.” There was no annoyance or animosity in her tone. Just pitch-perfect professionalism. “Please, take a seat. I take it you know why I have asked you here today.”

“Uh,” he began, shooting Bakugou a look as his friend plopped himself down in a chair midway between Denki and the detective, kicking his feet up and lounging back, earning an annoyed look from the cop. “Well, if I had to guess, I’m assuming it has something to do with last night.”

“How astute,” Nakamura replied. Again, no sarcasm at all. “Before we begin, is there anything regarding last night’s altercation that you want to tell me?”

“Nothing that I didn’t tell the officers at the scene,” he said slowly. Wait, did… they think he was hiding something? “Did White-Eyes say anything?”

“White-Eyes?”

“Yeah, the, uh… that man who was arrested. I don’t know what his name is.”

“The bastard ain’t talking,” Bakugou growled. “And the cops won’t let me in to question him-”

“You don’t have the legal authority to question criminals, Bakugou,” Nakamura responded quickly, and to Denki’s surprise, she sounded snippy. “When I am involved, we follow the law to the letter-”

“What, you sayin’ I don’t follow the law?!”

Denki shuffled his feet uncomfortably below the table. Being around these two made him feel like he was a kid again, over at a friend’s house while their parents were fighting. Bakugou and Nakamura apparently got along like cats and dogs - well, no, because that implied that they had some sort of definable relationship. The two just didn’t get along, and it was apparent in the way they rarely made eye contact and how curt their responses were to each other. He honestly couldn’t fathom why Bakugou chose to work with her so often. 

“So you truly didn’t recognize him?” Nakamura said, choosing to ignore Bakugou’s question and return to interrogating Denki. 

“No. I would have said something if he had. Though from his comments, I got the feeling that he was probably an older member of the MLA.”

“Yes, the report says as much.” She shuffled through a few papers and picked up a pen, twirling it absently through her fingers. “And your sister, Emiko. She wasn’t present? Have you seen or been contacted by her since your previous encounter?”

“No,” he said quickly, hoping she believed him. If there was anything a cop was likely to doubt him on, it was his relationship with his sister. 

“Which means we still don’t know if they’re actively recruiting for a resurgence or not. Shame.” Nakamura set the pen down and rubbed at her temples with her index fingers, suddenly looking tired. “Though we managed to capture one of the members, we’ve gained very little knowledge into the situation. It’s been over a week since the escape, and even with every Hero in the country on the lookout, we’re no closer to catching the escaped prisoners or those responsible for the breakout. And we’re starting to feel the heat from it.”

Denki could sympathize. He wanted his dad back behind bars more than anyone. But it was starting to seem less and less likely that they were here to reprimand him about using his Quirk last night in the fight. And if that wasn’t why he was here, then… why was he?

“We’ve given more thought to the idea that was proposed in our last meeting,” Nakamura continued as though reading Denki’s mind. “And considering the attack last night, it would seem that the PLF is determined to drag you into this conflict no matter what we do. That being the case, and taking into consideration the dangers of leaving these criminals at large for much longer as well as the endorsement you have received from several high-ranking Pros… we have decided to agree, provided you follow our guidelines to the letter.”

It took Denki a moment to understand what she was getting at. When it clicked, he sat up straight, his heart thundering in his chest. 

“...You’re going to let me help?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes-”

“You’re going to be bait, Kaminari,” Bakugou cut in, sounding uncharacteristically serious. “These idiots are going to be coming after you anyway no matter what we do. At least this way, we have a plan. But that doesn’t mean that you can go hunt them down. You’re not a Hero. Don’t forget that.”

Don’t forget that? How could he ever.

“Yeah, sure, of course,” he said instead, trying to hide his excitement. And his anxiety. “So how do you see this going down?”

“We had someone in the office put this together for you,” Nakamura replied, sliding a small box over to Bakugou, who in turn flung it down the table. Denki caught it and pulled the lid off. 

“...A ring?” he asked, pulling the small silver circlet out and eying it dubiously. “I mean, I’m flattered, but you really shouldn’t have.”

“It’s a communication device,” Nakamura continued, either not getting his joke or, more likely, just ignoring him entirely. “Creati voiced a valid concern about other Quirk users being able to potentially sense the frequency of a normal tracking device, or your own electric Quirk damaging any bug we tried to give you. So instead, we’ve created a device without a battery. 

“At the moment, it’s just a dead piece of metal - but you can power it by activating your Quirk, which will cause it to immediately send out a distress signal and alert Pros and the police to your location. If you find yourself in another confrontation like last night, or better, if your sister makes contact again and leads you to your father, using your Quirk will cause the ring to send out the signal and we’ll have someone at your location as quickly as possible.”

There was another side to that, too, he realized. If Denki used his Quirk at all, in self-defense or for any other reason, it would automatically trigger the distress signal. It was their way of monitoring him since he wasn’t licensed. On the flip side, nothing was stopping him from not wearing the ring other than his own conscience. Someone, likely his friends, were placing a great deal of trust in him. 

“Obviously, there is a significant amount of risk involved here-”

“I know,” Denki cut in, slipping the ring onto his right ring finger and meeting Nakamura’s gaze dead-on. “But like you said, I’m going to be dragged into this whether I like it or not, and the sooner I can help you arrest my father, the sooner I’ll know my kids are safe again.”

Nakamura did not seem comforted at all by his announcement. 

“I want you to know, Mr. Kaminari, that I am against this. I agree that it is our best option, but I’m only going along with it because Bakugou and many others have voiced their support. They believe you can do this, and I’m choosing to place my trust in their judgment. But whatever you might have been once, a long time has passed since those days. And this isn’t just a group of thugs. You have a deeply personal connection to these people, and it is your judgment that I am worried about.

“Remember, you are not a Hero. You are not licensed. And even with the Police and the Pros sanctioning this operation, you do not have permission to use your Quirk to cause harm. Like all civilians, you have the right to use your Quirk to defend yourself, which may become necessary, but that right only extends so far. If, in this operation, you take that too far, we will not hesitate to prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. If a situation seems too risky, back out. The only thing we’re looking for is for you to use your connection with your sister to locate your father. That is all. Everything else will be handled by us.”

Denki did his best to swallow past the lump in his throat. So. Not only was he putting his life on the line, he could also end up in jail again. Wonderful. 

But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t an idiot. He had a responsibility as a father to keep his kids safe, and he would do what he had to to ensure that was done. 

After about a half an hour of more talking in which Nakamura outlined exactly what they expected of him, as well as all of the many, many ways he was likely to screw himself over, she finally dismissed herself, leaving Denki alone with Bakugou. 

A few seconds after the door had closed behind her, Denki glanced up at Bakugou, who was studying him under his characteristic scowl, and said, “She said I had the support of ‘Bakugou and many others’...”

Bakugou grunted.

“I’m guessing my wife isn’t one of them?”

The fact that they were having this meeting in her office, yet she wasn’t present, was fairly telling, but he waited for Bakugou’s answer anyway. 

To Denki’s surprise, he looked away. 

“I didn’t tell her,” he muttered gruffly. “Figured if you were so gung-ho about this, you could tell her yourself.”

Denki stared, dumbfounded. He left the explanation to him?

That… filthy… coward…! This was the first time in over ten years that Denki had ever seen Bakugou avoid a conflict. And of course, it would have to be when he could push it off onto Denki. 

True, it should definitely be Denki who brought this up with Kyouka. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. 

“I have patrol, so I have to go,” Bakugou said as he abruptly stood, ending the conversation almost as though he was running away. Which was impossible, because he was Bakugou, but still. “Just… be careful. Don’t get too involved. You got kids now. This isn’t like last time.”

Denki smiled, or tried to. It wouldn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Last time had been literal hell. The whole point in volunteering for this was to prevent that from happening. 

“Make sure you keep us updated,” he continued as he walked towards the door. “Tell Jirou or Kirishima or me or whoever - just make sure you’re keeping us in the loop, whatever happens. The police aren’t too thrilled about this setup, but the governors are givin’ ‘em hell about not catching the convicts yet. That’s the only reason they’re givin' this a chance.”

Just before he walked out the door, he hesitated and sent Denki one last look over his shoulder. 

“If you screw this up, it’s my ass your wife will be coming after. So don’t do anything stupid.”

And then he was gone, leaving Denki alone in the meeting room, staring at the ring on his finger. There was fear and anxiety welling up inside of him at the thought of being caught up in another battle, that was true. But there was also anticipation and excitement. In a way, he felt like a teenager again, all jittery and ready to go out and show the world what he could do. No more standing on the sidelines.

This was his chance. Finally. 

He wasn’t going to screw this up. 

Chapter Text

Denki’s worst fears finally came true nearly a year after becoming the UA traitor. 

He’d been sent out on a raid together with a small group of PLF members. Their goal that night had been pretty non-specific. No particular Hero offices or government agencies were being targeted, but the Pros and police had been getting better recently at predicting Shigaraki’s targets, so they’d begun orchestrating attacks at random like this in an attempt to throw them off. 

They would show up and begin wreaking havoc in city centers or high-traffic urban areas just to spook the citizens and to send the local authorities into a panic. However, since they didn’t actually have a goal other than sowing chaos and confusing the Pros, it didn’t matter to Shigaraki what happened to the people he sent off on these raids. He saved his heavy-hitters, his more valuable pieces, for the real attacks. Distractions like these were for pawns. 

And that was precisely why Denki was there. His reluctance to actually go all-out in a fight had been too obvious for the higher-ups to ignore. Instead of climbing the ranks and becoming a PLF leader like others had expected of him, he’d been relegated to the role of an expendable. And if he were being honest, he preferred it that way. 

Many members of the PLF were angry with him, however, and his alleged indifference, but nobody had taken his reluctance to step up and lead harder than his mother. Once, she had treated him like he was the answer to her prayers, the one who would take the dreams she could never achieve on her own and elevate them to new heights. 

Now, however, his perceived indecision and cowardice had damned her. Rather than earn his family praise from their leaders, he was a constant source of shame and derision from the community of Deika. His mother, it seemed, couldn’t handle it. And she wasn’t afraid to let him know.

Honestly, it was all becoming too much for Denki. 

Months of fighting, months of suffering under the soul-crushing weight of his guilt, months of being forced to battle on the wrong side of the conflict and hurt people he’d honestly rather be helping, had steadily and surely scrapped away against the insides of his spirit until all he felt inside was hollow and empty and devoid of the spark that had once encapsulated everything about him. 

More than once, he’d found himself listening to the tiny whisper in the back of his head, growing louder every day, telling him that maybe, just maybe, things would be better if he wasn’t around. If he got killed in the next fight, if a stray blast or collapsing building erased him from the world, wouldn’t that be better for everyone? Society would have its justice. The friends he betrayed would have their satisfaction. The PLF would be content that he was no longer wasting space. His mother wouldn’t have to keep asking how her son had become such a disappointment. Everyone could move on. He could move on.

He was lost. Everything had grown dark. For weeks now, he’d been stumbling alone through the fog that had shrouded his mind, like a child lost in the woods, with storm clouds so thick overhead that he was deprived of even what little light the moon or stars could have given him. 

If a path that could lead him out of this darkness existed, everything had grown so dim that it was impossible to see. He was going to die like this. Alone, in this impenetrable darkness that he’d brought upon himself. 

And then, unexpectedly, he saw a light. 

It had been dark in the real world as well on the night of that pointless raid, and Denki had been sent along with a few others to stage an attack on an outdoor shopping area. The League hoped that an increase in villain attacks in the area would pull the Heroes’ attention away from their real next target: a hospital on the south side of Hosu which was planned to be hit in a few days. 

Most of Denki’s comrades had headed straight down into the shops, eager to stir up some chaos and maybe steal a few things in the process. ‘Spoils of war’ as they called them. That was half of the reason they’d even come. 

Denki, however, opted to stay away. Across the highway was a quaint little shrine, built into the wooded mountainside that overlooked the shopping district. It was quiet and peaceful, with street lamps illuminating red-brick staircases that climbed the darkened hills, each with a few dancing moths for decoration. The path to the shrine on the hilltop consisted primarily of these staircases, each one connected by small, circular brick landings that served as little rest stops carved into the wooded mountainside. 

There were virtually no pedestrians in the evening, which meant there was little risk of Denki running into or being forced to hurt anyone. He could hide up here on a park bench while his colleagues did their business. Officially, he was on ‘recon’ duty; he was supposed to let them know when the police and Pros showed up. An unglamorous job that nobody but him had wanted. He liked it that way. 

It was almost… peaceful, sitting on the cold metal bench and looking down over the treeline. Or it would have been, if the air wasn’t filled with shouts and screams as the villains ran wild, vandalizing shops, destroying vehicles, setting trees and buildings ablaze.

And then, all at once, without warning, a group of Pros arrived. Denki had no idea where they’d come from. One moment, they were just… there. 

True chaos exploded throughout the shopping district as the Heroes struggled to apprehend the villains while simultaneously protecting the fleeing civilians and putting out the fires. Explosions and angry shouts filled the night as Denki watched, alone on his perch on the hillside. 

He should be going down to assist, he knew. The others wouldn’t let it slide if he sat this one out, not again. He needed to go down. He needed to. Even if it was just to show his face. If he gave his mother any more reason to hate him-

The crunch of gravel behind him had him turning his head. 

Out of the shadows, a figure emerged into the garish yellow light of a streetlamp.

It was a girl, about his height, maybe a little shorter, wearing a familiar jacket with matching headphones and overly-large combat boots. It wasn’t just the outfit that was familiar, however. He recognized everything about her, from the dark sheen of her hair to the odd shape of her earlobes to the way her eyes blazed with warring triumph and loathing the moment she set her gaze on him. 

When Denki’s gaze met Jirou’s for the first time in nearly a year, it was like a bolt of lightning pierced the metaphorical cloud cover in his heart, illuminating everything for a brief, intangible moment in stark, painful clarity. 

She looked the same as he remembered, though a little leaner, her expression harsher. She didn’t bear any signs of struggle, which meant she’d been avoiding the battle down below. Yet she was winded, as though she’d raced straight up the hill, as if she’d somehow known he was there. 

Breathless, she licked her lips, her arms trembling, and whispered, almost too soft for him to hear. 

“Found you, Kaminari.”

If her appearance was like distant, piercing lightning, her voice was the soft rumble of thunder that followed. For the first time in months, in the garish light of that violent flash, he could see his path. 

And it was to run away as fast as he possibly could in the opposite direction. 

Denki didn’t waste another second. Fueled by a fear so intense it swept away all other rational thought, he was up, off of the bench, sprinting towards the opposite staircase. For months now, he’d been terrified of one day meeting one of his old classmates on the battlefield, but this was worse than he could have ever imagined. 

Why did it have to be Jirou?! He’d take Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Mineta - hell, he’d have taken Bakugou over Jirou! Anyone but her! 

Sheer terror had his heart in his throat as he reached the staircase, conscious of her rapid footsteps behind him, but it wasn’t a fight he was scared of, or even being arrested, which would surely happen if she caught him. It was her eyes. Every night since the attack on UA, he’d seen them in his nightmares, hateful, judgmental, condemning, hurt. He didn’t think he could handle seeing them up close again in real life. 

Something hit him, like a wall of pressure that swallowed all other sound in a deep, painful buzz, disorienting him, making him lose his balance. He knew from past experience, as well as the way his eardrums felt like they were balloons and the violent, stabbing pain in his skull, that it was one of Jirou’s soundwaves, likely produced from the speakers she had installed in her boots. 

He pitched forward and fell, unable to use his feet or even tell up from down, and barely managed to snag the handrail of the staircase before momentum had him tumbling head-over-heels down every painful brick step. His legs were still up on top, however; his torso was dangling from the railing four steps down. He’d fallen out of her sound wave, but the nausea and vertigo had hit him hard and took longer to shake off. 

She’d be on him in seconds. He needed to act quick. Forcing himself upright, he hastily aimed his Pointer and Shooter (the Detnerat Inc version made for him after he’d returned to the PLF) straight at the rapidly-approaching Jirou and fired. 

Not at her body, though. Knocking her out would save him a lot of trouble, but he couldn’t bring himself, even now, to hurt her. Instead, he fired the small magnetic disk at her foot and, after miraculously hitting his target, he fired off a blast of electricity that had Jirou leaping back with a fearful shout. From the sparks and smoke coming out of her boot, he knew he’d done his job. Her speaker was fried. Or at least, one of them was.

While she was distracted, he turned and quickly began racing down the stairs, desperate to get away. With any luck, his lightning blast would have at least numbed some of the muscles in her leg and foot. He hoped he hadn’t burned her, but it was a risk he’d had to take. If he could just slow her down, even a little…!

He was halfway down the staircase when he risked a glance back over his shoulder and felt his stomach drop out. 

Jirou had managed to stumble to the top of the staircase, her pant leg smoking and missing her shoe, and instead of stumbling down it after him, she’d hopped up onto the railing and was now sliding down at surprising speed. 

For a wild, fearful moment, as he sprinted down the steps two at a time, he considered reaching out and grabbing the handrail… and stopped himself. 

He could send an electric current up the rail and shock her, knocking her unconscious. But doing so would make her fall, and she could get seriously hurt. Granted she’d nearly made him do just that a moment before, but it was different. In her eyes, he was a traitor. To him, she was…

He reached the bottom of the staircase and bolted across the small plateau towards the next and final set of stairs. They led down to the street that divided the path to the shrine from the shopping district, still embroiled in conflict though he could just barely see the battle now reaching the road through the dense wall of trees. If he could lose himself in the chaos…!

The plateau was small, maybe twice the size of a regular gazebo, and had a little makeshift rest area that consisted of a bench and a vending machine situated beneath an old street lamp. 

Denki ran around them, heading for the staircase on his left, but without warning, the ground erupted beneath him, knocking him off his feet, spitting up flecks of brick and earth. The street lamp keeled over, its light flickering out, crashing on the ground with the sound of shattering glass and plunging the surrounding area once more into darkness. 

Breathless, Denki struggled to push himself up, aware that his chin was bleeding. Behind him, Jirou had reached the bottom of her staircase and had used the detachable speakers she carried on her wrists to pump the sound of her heartbeat into the ground. He’d seen her use it countless times before in class, as well as to particularly great effect during the Hero Licensing Course last year. 

“No more running,” she panted, half-limping towards him, her jacks still plugged into her detachable speakers, holding them aloft like extra limbs. “I finally caught you, and you’re not getting away again. Don’t make me hurt you more than I have to.”

Frantic, still on all-fours and sweating profusely, Denki tried to find his best avenue of escape. The fastest was the staircase to his left, but that was also wide open and Jirou would have the easiest time following him down that route. Going back up the other staircase was not an option for obvious reasons. All that was left was trying to forge his way down the wooded hillside, but in the dark, with the steepness of the hill, not to mention how many trees and roots and small bushes there were, he was liable to fall and break his neck. 

Jirou was practically on him. He’d wasted too much time thinking. He hadn’t recovered from her last sound attack and his brain still felt fuzzy. 

Hoping surprise was on his side, he leaped to his feet as fast as he could, but Jirou’s earphone jack extended to block his route, the speaker pointed straight at him. He spun to face her, stumbling back towards the treeline that separated him from the street below, and activated his Quirk, letting the electricity crackle as it surged throughout his body. He had no intention of using it on her, but if he could scare her away from trying to apprehend him…

Without warning, she lunged forward, her tentacle-like earlobes extending on either side, boxing him in. She didn’t need to touch him to knock him out with a blast of explosive sound. His only options now were to attack her or give up, and he didn’t know which one sounded worse. If he didn’t do something fast…!

Something over her shoulder caught his eye. 

A figure, emerging from the darkness overhead on thick, bat-like wings. It was a man, one of his colleagues from the PLF. He’d come to help him.

He was rapidly approaching, silent as death, gliding on invisible air currents, and as he swooped in low, a wicked smile on his face, he drew from out of his coat a pair of knives. 

Denki moved without thinking. Lifting his arm, he aimed his Pointer and Shooter up at his ally and fired, releasing all of the electricity he’d been trying to scare Jirou with in a single, powerful blast. 

At the same time, Jirou, who hadn’t noticed the PLF member approaching from behind, thought that Denki was going on the offensive and released an explosive soundwave from both speakers. The attack hit him in stereo a split-second after his lightning flashed over Jirou’s shoulder. 

As the would-be assassin hit the ground, unconscious and twitching, Denki stumbled backward as though drunk, the intense soundwave shattering his sense of equilibrium as a powerful wave of vertigo robbed him of all sense of up and down. 

He pitched to the side, nearly falling over, struggling to hold the contents of his stomach inside. In front of him, through rolling eyeballs, he saw Jirou turn to glance over her shoulder in the direction he’d launched his attack, and for a moment she could only stare in silent shock at the unconscious body behind her. 

“What…?”

Though disoriented, Denki was still trying to get away, which meant he was still drunkenly trying to walk backward away from Jirou. So perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised when his heel struck the outer edge of the plateau and he began to fall back into the tree line. 

Jirou jerking forward and snagging his wrist, trying to catch him, was unexpected. Unfortunately, she was also much lighter than him, which meant that instead of her saving him, he wound up just pulling her along with him into his fall. 

Their tumble down the hill through the woods can’t have lasted longer than a few seconds, but Denki swore he hit every root and tree on the way down. He only came to a stop when he slammed back-first into a black pine that drove all of the air from his lungs. 

For the next several minutes, he lay still on his side on the cool dirt, trembling in pain and struggling to coax his lungs into working again as the world continued to spin. He hurt everywhere, myriad cuts and bruises decorating his body from head to toe, but his spine in particular was in stabbing agony. It was so bad that he was afraid to move. What if he’d broken something? What if he was paralyzed forever?!

If that were true, he probably wouldn’t be able to feel how badly his legs hurt. The throbbing pain in his knee wasn’t just an indication that he’d possibly broken his kneecap, it also meant that his spinal cord was still intact. Silver lining?

Before too long, he heard footsteps and the unmistakable sound of someone blindly stumbling their way through the thick foliage around them. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was. 

A moment later, Jirou was on him. Literally. 

She knelt, flipping him onto his back, placing her left shin horizontally on his thighs, just above his kneecaps, and used her body weight to pin him in place. Her hands went to his wrists, trapping them in the dirt above his head. She loomed over him, breathless and sweaty, as one of her jacks plunged itself down near his neck. For a wild moment, he thought she was trying to hold it against him like a knife, but then he realized she’d stabbed it into the ground to amplify her hearing. She was trying to make sure she wasn’t snuck up on again. Ever the Hero. 

And for a while, that was how they stayed. Neither said a word, the only sound aside from the still-ongoing battle across the street being the wind in the trees and their slowly steadying breathing. 

After a moment’s pause, he felt Jirou lean closer. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

Denki’s eyes were only partly open. They’d stopped spinning, thankfully, but it was so dark in these woods that he couldn’t really see anything anyway. Jirou herself was more of a vague shape than anything remotely recognizable, but he could just barely make out her outline. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew where they’d be, so that was where he kept his gaze. He didn’t need a source of light. He had long-since memorized their shape and color anyway.

Did she know? Back when they were in school together, when she sat next to him in class every day, did she ever suspect? 

In the first month of classes, he’d asked out every single girl in class 1-A and 1-B combined and had been summarily rejected every time. Every girl except for her. Did she even notice? If she had, did she ever pause to wonder why?

The fact of the matter was, Denki had avoided asking Jirou out because he wouldn’t have been able to pretend like it was no big deal. When the other girls had rejected him, he’d been disappointed, sure, but that was all. If he’d asked Jirou out and she’d turned him down, it would have crushed him. She was the only one who he paid special attention to, the only one whose opinion of him held substantial weight. 

And, at the end of the day, Denki was a coward. 

When he didn’t answer, her grip on his wrists tightened, her nails pinching painfully into his skin. 

“Damnit, Kaminari, answer me! What the hell are you up to? Is this some sort of game to you?!”

A game? No. Games were supposed to be fun. Honestly, he was having a hard time remembering what fun felt like. It had been a long time since he’d had cause to smile and laugh like when he was back in school with her. She used to make it seem like teasing him was her favorite pastime. Did she know that he’d taken to purposefully setting himself up for her jokes just so he could have an excuse to interact with her? An excuse for her to turn her attention to him, an excuse to make her smile, even if it was at his own expense?

To be fair, her teasing had never felt malicious, even at the start of the school year when they’d been basically strangers, and before long, it had just become their… thing. He was the boke to her tsukkomi. The idiot to her straight-man. Though they hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts during the USJ attack, somehow, the two of them had always seemed to just… click. And he would give anything to go back to that, even if for a day. 

“I swear, if you don’t start talking-!”

“What does it matter?” he cut in weakly, still winded from the fall.

That clearly was not the right response from the way he felt her entire body tense, but all of a sudden, all of the tension seemed to have left him. 

What did it matter? She’d caught him, it was over. He was going to jail. And honestly? It suddenly didn’t sound that bad. Getting away from the PLF and the League, away from his mother’s eyes… He no longer had to sit back while his ‘allies’ hurt people. He no longer had to be complicit in their crimes. He could actually pay for what he’d done this way. And he would finally be left alone. 

“What does it matter?” she parroted back in an ominous whisper.

“Nothing I say to you is going to-”

He cut off as she leaned down, her upper body weight cutting off the circulation to his hands as she loomed over him menacingly. He could feel the tips of her hair tickling his face. They were practically nose to nose. 

“I finally track you down, after a year of searching, and the first thing you do is run?! You target my boot with your blast? You don’t shock the pole, you don’t try to grapple, you don’t use an indiscriminate shock to take me or my speakers down, you just run?! Even now, I have you pinned, but we both know you could electrocute me and escape at any time! What are you playing at?!”

His mouth worked, but no sound came out. He had answers. He did. He just… he couldn’t say them. They all sounded so… pathetic, so weak. 

After a pause to let him speak which he didn’t take, she continued. 

“You attacked one of your teammates. He could have killed me. Why did you-?”

“He’s not my teammate-”

“Oh, well the way you helped them burn UA to the ground a year ago could have fooled me!”

He swallowed but said nothing. This was why he wished it was someone else who had found him first. Bakugou wouldn’t have waited. He wouldn’t have tried to make him talk. He would have shot first and asked questions later. Denki would have been unconscious and in handcuffs by now if it was Bakugou. 

“Damnit, Denki…” She was trembling, and for the first time, he found himself wondering if there was more to it than rage. “Will you just… talk to me?”

Her words seemed to echo back to a year ago, just before the attack on UA, when she’d taken him from class to the nurse’s office at Aizawa’s behest and had said, just before leaving him outside the door, “Hey… You know you can… talk… t-to me, if you need to. Yeah?”

He was struck with the sudden realization that he was being given a second chance here. A chance for what, he didn’t know. No promises that his story would end happily. But that was what he got for not opening up to her back then when he’d had the chance. And if he passed up this opportunity to explain himself to her now, he’d likely never be given another one.

“They have my family.” 

There was a pause in which the sound of the battle across the street seemed to swell before Jirou finally responded with, “...What?”

“Shigaraki, the PLF. They have my family. That’s why I had to help them.”

“You’re saying Shigaraki kidnapped your family in order to blackmail you into-?”

“No, no, just - listen.”

And she did. Miraculously, she stayed quiet the entire time he talked. The peculiarity of his situation wasn’t lost on him - lying on the cold dirt with a bruised spine across the street from what was essentially open warfare as the girl you loved in high school pinned you to the ground and forced you to confess your crimes.

It didn’t take long. He kept it short because he knew they didn’t exactly have time to chat. On more than one occasion over the past year, he’d tried to imagine what it would be like if he had the chance to explain himself to his friends, to let them know that he hadn’t betrayed them because he’d wanted to, that he had extenuating circumstances. He’d pretended sometimes that they’d understand and forgive him, but he knew that was wishful thinking. Whatever his reasons, what he’d done had still been terrible. You can’t just wash your crimes away just by feeling bad. 

Still, part of him hoped. It hurt, and was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. That hope had kept him going, even when things were at their bleakest. The possibility of one day having them back in his life, even if that chance was basically infinitesimal… It was all he had to live for.

Now that he had his chance to explain, however, all he felt was fear. Fear that it wasn’t enough. Because deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. 

After a moment, Jirou sighed. 

“Yeah… We figured it had to be something like that. You aren’t really smart enough to be some kind of evil mastermind, but we couldn’t verify if you even had any relatives at all.”

We? Did that mean the rest of class 1-A?

“You didn’t know?”

“No. We haven’t been able to find any records of you or your family anywhere on any national database. Someone on your side must be a whiz with computers.”

Skeptic. He hadn’t realized he’d deleted Kaminari’s existence from the world after the attack. Probably to avoid turning attention to Deika for as long as possible.

“They’re not my side-”

“Yes they are,” she repeated, her voice cold and emphatic. “It doesn’t matter what your motives were. You’re supporting them, so you’re on their side.”

He knew she was right, but hearing it out loud, from her, he bristled anyway. 

“What was I supposed to do?! Let them kill my parents and little sister while I cried in a corner? The attack would have happened anyway-”

“So you thought the solution was to join the villains and help them attack and kill innocent people?! You could have talked to us! We could have figured out a plan to rescue your family and-!”

“You don’t get it, I’m all they have! They don’t want to be rescued! They’re part of the PLF now and that’s where they want to stay.”

“And where do you want to stay?”

Denki gaped, not understanding. 

“You have people who care about you on both sides, but one of those sides is clearly in the wrong. I can understand wanting to protect your family but at the expense of innocent people? That doesn’t make sense to me. That’s not the Kaminari I thought I knew.”

He had no argument against that, so naturally, he deflected.

“You act like I have a choice in this,” he muttered petulantly, turning away. “It’s either fight to protect my family or let you take me to jail where I’m no good to anyone-”

“No, it’s not! It’s either help Shigaraki destroy the country and attack and kill innocent people or stop doing that! Stop twisting this by acting like you’re doing something noble and open your damn eyes for once!”

He swallowed thickly but didn’t respond. 

The problem was, she was right. All this time, he’d been telling himself that he wasn’t in the wrong. He was just trying to protect his family, just like his dad had told him - protecting the thing that mattered most. He wasn’t supporting the atrocities committed by the PLF, he never actively tried to hurt anyone. He was blackmailed into betraying his friends. He was caught up in this against his will. It wasn’t his fault. 

Only, ‘the thing that mattered most’ to Denki wasn’t his family. Or at least, it wasn’t only that. It was his friends, his school, his teachers. It was the people he’d been taught to protect and save. And not only had he been failing at doing that, he’d been on the side of those who were actively trying to harm them. 

He was a villain. And it was time he stopped lying to himself and own up to it.

“...What do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop running,” she said, and then a moment later, in a softer voice, “...and I want to know what it is you want.”

What did he want?

He wanted this to be over. He wanted everything to be right again. He wanted his friends, and his family, and his school, and his life, to be just like how they were before everything had gone to hell. 

But that was never going to happen. 

There was a disruption out on the street. The villains had been pushed back out of the still-burning shopping district and were heading in the direction of the treeline, right where they were sitting. 

If they found them before the Heroes did…!

“Go.”

Jirou, who had sat up, alarmed, releasing one of Denki’s arms so she could reach up to touch her headset (which had apparently managed to stay on in the fall, somehow), jerked her head back down to stare at him.

“If you think I’m going to let you get away so easily-!”

“You can’t carry me out of here without being spotted, and if they see you, they’ll kill you.” He reached out with his free hand and found her arm, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “This isn’t the last time you’ll see me, I promise. Go.”

Surprisingly, she obeyed, crawling off of him and rising to a crouch, readying herself to sneak off through the underbrush. Then she hesitated. 

“Kaminari…”

“Go!”

“I expect an answer the next time I see you.”

And then she was gone, vanishing back into the darkness as she retreated up the hill, away from the retreating PLF members. 

Struggling to his feet, his back still very much in pain, Denki stumbled out of the treeline and onto the street where he joined his retreating PLF brethren. Though he hadn’t been in the fight with them, it was obvious from his appearance that he’d been fighting someone. Hopefully, that would be enough to silence any questions about where he’d been. 

Still… to think he’d see Jirou again and not end up dead or in prison. Surprisingly, though he was still a little dizzy and very much in pain, his head felt clearer than it had in months. 

Her words were still bouncing around in his head when they finally got back to the warehouse they were using as a base. He knew what it was he wanted. But he also knew it was impossible for him to obtain. 

But maybe… Maybe, if he could work up the courage, he might be able to obtain something close. 

Chapter Text

The morning after his meeting with Bakugou and Detective Nakamura found Denki at home, sitting on the couch in his living room, secretly watching the news on his phone with his headphones in so that his kids wouldn’t notice. 

He still hadn’t told Aika. Every time he thought about it, he would back down, telling himself the timing wasn’t right. The truth was, he was just scared, and he knew it. But considering what he was preparing to do later that day, well… He wanted to enjoy his morning while he could. 

From the screen on his phone, he watched as the media continued to circle around the topic of his father like vultures around a soon-to-be carcass. At the moment, reporters from multiple news outlets were seated at a press conference, grilling various government officials, Pro Heroes, and high-ranking police officers regarding the breakout and ensuing manhunt of the ex-PLF members. They weren’t talking about his dad specifically, but Denki could admit that he had tunnel vision, at least in this regard. 

There were a few familiar faces up on the stand, including Asui, Shoji, and Midoriya. The bulk of the questions were being directed at the speaker from the NPA who’d taken center stage, which was a good thing, because, as usual, the reporters were holding nothing back. They never stated it outright, but the direction they were going with their questioning included several not-so-subtle suggestions that the police and Heroes were doing a terrible job and that if they were more competent, the escaped convicts would have already been found and captured by now. 

One of the good things about not being a Hero was not having to deal with the press directly himself. He had no idea how his friends did it. Risking your life every day to save people only to be attacked by some reporter who got paid to highlight your each and every flaw to a national audience, skewered in the worst way possible, just so that they could use the drama to inflate their ratings and line their pockets. Sometimes, it honestly didn’t seem like they were human.

He’d been watching for a few minutes, sighing and rolling his eyes whenever a reporter levied an unfair attack against one of his friends, but he found himself tensing uncomfortably when the moment he’d been dreading finally came to pass.

They mentioned his name. 

“According to reports, one of the escaped convicts was Renjiro Kaminari, father of Denki Kaminari, perhaps best known as the infamous UA Traitor. Have you considered the likelihood that he aided in his father’s escape?”

Denki had known that suspicion would be turned on him eventually, given both his personal connection to the man as well as his ‘villainous’ history. The police had likely considered it immediately after the breakout. He knew that and had accepted it. That didn’t make it any easier to hear, especially not on national television. 

The NPA representative who had been fielding most of the questions opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Midoriya leaned forward and took hold of the microphone that had been set in front of him. 

He smiled, and Denki couldn’t help but smile himself at the fact that Japan’s newest Number One Hero and successor to the legendary All Might had still not managed to entirely grow out of his awkward phase, nor his stage fright. 

“I just want to reassure everyone that my colleagues and I are doing everything we can to catch the escaped prisoners as quickly as possible. This means that we have been, and are still, exploring every possible avenue to resolve this issue swiftly and efficiently.” 

Sure, Deku sounded a lot more professional now - at least in the sense that he could string coherent sentences together without rambling too much - but the omnipresent wobble in his voice showed that he still wasn’t comfortable in front of cameras, a factor which actually played heavily into his popularity; his awkwardness made him seem more down-to-earth and approachable, which was a big deal considering how he could change the weather with a single punch. The fact that he had volunteered to speak despite his fears said a lot.

“The connection between the PLF and this breakout is a concern for everyone, but that is especially true for myself, Froppy, Tentacole, and the rest of our old classmates from high school. We were there at the fall of UA, on the front lines of every battle against Shigaraki and the League, and there is no one who wants these villains back behind bars more than we do. 

“As for Kaminari, he has an alibi, and there are multiple eye-witnesses that can attest to his whereabouts on the day of the breakout. Please trust that the police have done their due diligence regarding the matter and that Kaminari has the complete trust of myself and my friends. If there was any doubt at all regarding his involvement in the breakout, we would not be having this discussion right now.”

Midoriya tried to end his would-be professional statement with a smile, but it came out as more of a nervous smirk. It didn’t help that Shoji was seated beside him, glaring daggers at the reporter who had asked the question.

Denki let out a slow breath. He hadn’t seen Midoriya in a while, but the next time he did, he owed that anxious ball of nerves a big ol’ hug. 

Deciding he’d had enough of the news and not sure that he had the guts needed to stomach whatever rebuttal those reporters had cooked up, Denki closed the app and shoved his phone into his pocket. It was nearly noon. Time to make sure the kids were ready to head out.

He entered the kitchen to find both of his children seated at the bar being disturbingly quiet. 

He stopped next to the counter and frowned down at them.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Aika asked, glancing up. 

“You’re behaving.”

She rolled her eyes and he smiled, heading to the fridge to get a drink.

“What are you up to anyway?”

“Homework,” she mumbled absently. 

“Still?”

She shot him an annoyed look. 

“Sorry, it’s just… you’re seven. How much summer homework can you possibly have?”

She’d been out of school for a couple weeks now, and with all the time she’d been cooped up indoors thanks to her grandfather, she should have been done by now. Kids would be kids though; it's not like he was ever on top of his summer homework. Still, what could her school have possibly assigned her aside from the most basic of math problems and dull kanji drills?

Aika’s irritation only seemed to be getting stronger. 

“I’ll be eight soon, you know,” she grumbled, as though that had any bearing whatsoever on the question he’d asked. 

“Will you?” Denki replied, pretending to sound doubtful. “That doesn’t sound right…”

“Yes,” she growled, now ignoring her homework entirely so she could glower up at her dad. “You know that. You know my birthday is next week.”

“Hmm, next week, huh?” he continued, walking around the fridge and flipping ostentatiously through the calendar stuck to the side. “I dunno, I don’t remember anything about that… What do you think, Rai? Does your sister have a birthday next week?”

Raidin was seated quietly beside his sister with his tongue stuck out as he carefully (and messily) scribbled on a piece of paper with so much focus you’d have thought he was the one working on his homework. 

When he heard his name, he glanced up and said, “Wha?”

“Aika says she has a birthday coming up, but I think she’s lying. What do you think?”

His eyes bounced back and forth between his angry sister and his amused father as though he were seriously considering the question. 

Finally, with a pensive frown, he said, “Um… I don’t know.”

Aika rolled her eyes again while Denki reached across the counter to ruffle his son’s hair affectionately. 

“This is too hard. Can we invite Rei over? She’s better than me at writing.”

“Oh, so you want to copy your friend’s answers then, huh?”

“No! I just… want to work on it together.”

Rei was Aika’s best friend and fellow classmate. She was also Yaoyorozu and Todoroki’s only daughter. Aika was the older by three months, but you wouldn’t know it just by looking at them, as Rei had inherited her mother’s height and her father’s stoicism, which made her seem more mature than her age would imply.

“Hmm, maybe,” he said in response to her previous question. He didn’t want to make any promises, though, as being in his home might actually put Rei in danger. “What’s this assignment you’re working on that’s giving you so much trouble? Maybe dad can help.”

“I have to write about who my favorite Hero is,” she explained, sounding like she was faced with the single most unpleasant task to have ever been assigned in human history. “A whole paragraph.”

Oh no, the world was ending. 

“Well, that sounds easy. Just write something about your mom.”

She shot him an unreadable look but didn’t answer. Ah, well… better not to force it. She could write about whatever she wanted. 

Funnily enough, according to old movies and such, kids used to be asked homework questions about who their hero was even back before Quirks had first manifested. It had an entirely different connotation then, however. What a weird thing to think about. 

“Alrighty, well maybe I’ll talk to Yaomomo about letting you spend the day over at their place soon. How does that sound?”

His daughter’s expression lit up from grumpy to excited so fast you’d think he’d flipped a switch. 

“Really?! Can we have a sleep-over?! Can we go today?!”

“Not today, sorry. We already promised your grandparents that you’d pay them a visit.”

“Ugh, again?”

Denki paused and shot Aika a warning look. 

“Hey now. Don’t be like that. Your grandparents love you.”

“I know,” she grumbled, avoiding his gaze. “But all we’ve done this summer is go to their house or stay home. I want to do something else. I want to play with Rei.”

“Be nice to grandma and grandpa and I promise I’ll ask Momo today, ok?”

“Fiiiiiine…”

A few minutes later, after scouring the apartment for Rai’s shoes and cramming Aika’s homework into her backpack in the hopes that her grandma would be of more help, Denki and his kids exited the apartment, bid farewell to Tanjiro, who never seemed to have a day off, and set off towards Jirou’s parents’ house. 

It was a nice day out. Bright sun, clear sky, gentle breeze. The perfect day to risk his life like an idiot.

Almost as soon as they reached the first corner, they ‘happened’ to bump into Mina while she was out on patrol and she offered to walk with them. This was, of course, not an accident at all, but his kids didn’t need to know that. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to notice anything weird about the situation. They liked ‘aunt’ Mina, after all (though to be fair, everyone liked Mina), and Denki was grateful for the distraction she provided. 

Contrary to what he’d told his kids when he announced he was once again dropping them off at their grandparents’ place, Denki had not actually received another request to respond to a call for his side-gig (now ‘only’ gig) as an electrician. It had been days since he’d had his surprise run-in with Emiko, and now that he officially had the OK from the Pros and police, it was time for him to actually be useful for once. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous, however. He kept fidgeting with the ring Nakamura had given him, twisting it around his finger, struggling not to think of all the ways this could blow up spectacularly in his face. It had been a long time since he’d been in a real fight (though, of course, he was supposed to be avoiding fighting if possible, but let’s be realistic here). If he screwed up, this could go very, very poorly. 

As predicted, Kyouka had not been… pleased… when he broke the news to her. He’d expected a lot of shouting, a fight to put all of their past quarrels to shame, but what he’d gotten instead had somehow been worse. 

She’d just stared at him, silently resigned, and when he asked her what was wrong, all she’d said was, ‘I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.’

Something in her tone told him she wasn’t talking about physical injuries. 

Still, he couldn’t back down. After the attack the other night, he was more aware than ever that it was dangerous to be around him. How long until his father grew bolder and tried to attack him out in the open, in a crowded street, or even in his own home? The faster they got this done, the faster his dad would go back behind bars, and the faster he and his family could return to a normal life. 

Several minutes later, after dropping his kids off, bidding his in-laws farewell, and thanking Mina (who knew full well what he was planning to do for the day and looked more than a little uneasy about it), Denki set off down the street, heading in no particular direction and trying his best not to look nervous. 

Being the bait meant allowing Emi to lead him to his father, then using his Quirk to send a signal to the Pros via the ring on his finger, which would allow them to locate and capture the convict. On paper, it was a plan that could definitely maybe probably work. The problem was, he had no idea how to find his sister in the first place. 

She’d told him that she’d be the one contacting him when he’d agreed to her insane and almost-certainly-fake plan, but that had been several days ago. He hadn’t seen nor heard from her since. Had she given up? Did she realize that he was going to use her to turn her and their dad over to the police? He had no idea what was going through her head right now, and the fact that that meant he could very easily stumble into a trap while walking alone on the street like this did little to ease his nerves. 

What did ‘contact him’ mean, anyway? Like, send him a letter? Find his phone number and message him? Maybe a stranger on the street in an overcoat and a fedora would approach him and give him coordinates for a sketchy rendezvous like you see in the movies. How did they set that up, anyway? Could you rent people to do that? Like, pay them by the hour? What were their rates?

Luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long. After about ten minutes of randomly walking up-and-down just about every street or alleyway he came across like a confused ant, a figure in a familiar grey hoodie stepped up out of nowhere beside him, matching their pace with his. 

He just about leaped out of his skin when he noticed her, which elicited a snort from his little sister. 

“Wow, somebody’s jumpy.”

“Gah!” he said as if that was a word and that word had an agreed-upon definition that summed up how it felt to have your long-lost sister who probably not-so-secretly wanted you dead suddenly appear at your side like the world’s smoothest ghost. “Where did you come from?”

“I was around,” she replied vaguely, flashing him a superior smirk. This brat… She still didn’t want him to know where she was staying. Well, that was fine.

“Where have you been?” he asked instead, fighting to regain his composure. Now that she was actually here beside him, his confidence in their plan was waning fast. She made him uneasy. What if she had accomplices waiting to ambush him around the next corner? 

No, Denki, focus - this is your chance. Think of your kids.

“Around,” she repeated, and he had to stop himself from groaning.

“Yeah, but around where? I haven’t seen you since-”

“That’s not my fault,” she cut in lazily, peering cautiously around the edge of her hood as though she suspected that Denki had been followed and that he was the one laying the trap. “You’re the one who’s always walking around with those Hero friends of yours.”

Well… actually, yeah, that was true. Still though…

“So what?” he asked, and she turned to stare at him like he was an idiot. 

“What do you mean, ‘so what?’ I can’t exactly go revealing my face in front of some Pro and-”

“Why not?” he repeated and rolled his eyes when she gawked at him. “You act like there are wanted posters strung up everywhere with your face on them. Need I remind you, I thought you were dead up until you attacked me in that alley, and you were fifteen during the war with Shigaraki. If the police even have any photos of you, they’re all really outdated. The only one who could recognize you on-sight is me.”

That was… sort-of true. The police really didn’t have any photos of Emi. That was something he’d talked about with Nakamura in their first meeting. However, they knew now, or at least Nakamura and superiors knew, that she was alive. Spreading the word around to every cop and Hero in the city would defeat the purpose of Denki being bait, however, so very few people actually knew that a person named Emiko Kaminari even existed, let alone that she was in the city and quite possibly associated with the recent breakout. 

“So you think if I just waltz on up and start chatting away with you like we’re old pals, your Hero friends wouldn’t make the connection?”

He shrugged. “My wife, sure. Maybe most of my friends, though we could probably come up with an alibi. Most of the Heroes in the city only know me by name, not by my face, and they definitely don’t know my whole life story.”

Well, they knew he was the UA Traitor, but that didn’t mean they’d researched his life extensively and knew he had a little sister who was presumed to have died during the last battle with Shigaraki and the League. She would probably be fine.

“You would just be another civilian to them so long as you don’t go around trying to preach about the Liberation.”

She glowered at him, clearly trying to find some way to argue against what he’d said, but after a moment, she cursed under her breath and pulled her hood down. 

Denki smirked. He’d won. 

Walking around town with his little sister was… utterly bizarre, now that he thought about it. It was like being forced to hang out with an estranged cousin you barely knew and didn’t really like, but also that cousin might secretly want you dead. 

He now wanted his dad to attack more than ever if only so he could escape from this awkward atmosphere. What were they supposed to even talk about? Crime?  

“So how’s it been going?” he asked just as a way to fill the silence, turning blindly down another street. He had no idea where he was going, but as Emi hadn’t volunteered to take him anywhere yet, he may as well wander. If a PLF member was going to jump out and attack them, it was more likely to happen in an uncrowded alley or backstreet than on the main thoroughfare. And that was what he was supposed to be doing, after all. At least, according to Emi’s totally-fake plan.

“Why should I tell you anything?” she spat, and Denki took in a slow breath through his nostrils as he fought down his annoyance.

Why did she insist on always being so… difficult? Then again, she’d been that way when they were teenagers, too. In that respect, she actually hadn’t changed much. It was almost kind of nostalgic. 

“I meant, have you been attacked at all? You said you were being hunted, remember?”

“Oh,” she said, and Denki had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. She wasn’t very good at this ‘lying’ thing. “No, I’ve been fine. There are a lot of Heroes in this city, so I think they’re lying low for now.”

“Didn’t stop them from attacking me the other day,” he muttered sullenly, and it was Emi’s turn to smirk. 

“Well, maybe you just have a uniquely punchable face.”

“Hey, I happen to think I have a very handsome face. My wife certainly seems to like it.”

She scoffed and muttered the word ‘wife’ under her breath, and he glared at her. 

“Do you have a problem with my wife?”

“How can I have a problem with someone I don’t know?” she replied, turning with him to walk down yet another street. This one was particularly empty, and many of the buildings looked old and run-down. Maybe the attack would be here? “Though she is a Hero, so that’s minus points. Plus she married you, so she can’t be that bright.”

He opened his mouth to insult her back, determined to defend his wife’s honor (though that was really more of a diss on him than on her), but the distant sound of an explosion echoing from somewhere behind him had him spinning on the spot, prepared for anything. 

Denki wasn’t the only one. What few people there were on the street with them had stopped to turn and look in the direction of the sound as well. Black smoke was beginning to rise over the tops of the nearby buildings. Whatever it was, it was close. Only a few streets over. 

Wait… what? Why a few streets over? Denki was over here. That didn’t make sense.

With his eyes locked on the plume of black smoke steadily climbing into the sky, he felt his heart gradually begin to hammer in his chest. Honestly, that smoke could mean anything - a car accident, a grease fire, a normal villain attack unrelated to the PLF… but if he had to put money on it, Denki would bet anything that that was not the case. Sure, maybe he just had PLF on the brain since he was out on the street trying to bait them out, but…

The only question was, if it really was the PLF… why weren’t they attacking him directly? Why attack something behind…

Like the pieces to a puzzle clicking together, Denki realized that the smoke was rising from the exact area he’d come from, and before he even realized what he was doing, he took off at a sprint down the street, shoving his way past stationary pedestrians, blood and adrenaline thundering in his ears. 

“Wha- Hey! Denki, where are you-?!”

But he left Emi behind, not bothering to answer. He didn’t have time. True, he didn’t know where that smoke was coming from, and there were dozens of different possible explanations. But something inside of him - call it paternal intuition, instinct, a sixth sense, his gut, whatever - was telling him that one of those possibilities was likelier than the others. 

He was out of breath by the time he rounded the corner back onto the street where his in-laws lived, only to be met with the horrifying sight of their quaint, familiar two-story home completely up in flames. 

There was a crowd already gathered on the street consisting of terrified onlookers, evacuating neighbors, and those who had just shown up for the spectacle of it all. Fire trucks and police cars had already arrived, yellow-coated men and women hooking up hoses to douse the flames while the police forced the crowd back for space. The flames that had engulfed the building were unnaturally large, especially given how little time had passed since the sound of the explosion. 

Denki dove into the crowd, fighting his way through it until he noticed a familiar head of silver hair near an ambulance. 

“Kyotoku!”

Coughing weakly, eyes red and streaming with tears, his father-in-law turned back at the sound of his name and stared in shock when he noticed Denki fighting his way through the crowd. The ambulance was behind the police perimeter, however, so when Denki tried to cross over, he was blocked by an officer.

“It’s ok!” Kyotoku shouted, though his voice sounded unusually weak. “Let him through! He’s my son!”

The officer relented, releasing Denki and letting him stumble his way over to his family, who were huddled around the back of the ambulance. Kyotoku reached out to grasp his shoulder solemnly as Aika, noticing her father, tore herself from her grandmother’s embrace to fling herself at her dad. She was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. 

“What happened?” Denki gasped, still trying to get a grasp of the situation. 

‘I… I don’t know,” Mika answered, hugging herself and staring at the ground. “You’d only been gone for a few minutes, I-I was talking to Aika in the dining room, and then…”

The explosion. Here, of all places… this wasn’t a coincidence.

“You were attacked? By who?”

“We… We didn’t see them…” Mika gasped, wiping unsteadily at her cheeks, but she didn’t need to answer. It was obvious who had attacked them. The only question was, why? Denki hadn’t been there. He had been out on the street with Emi. The PLF had to have known exactly where he was...

Denki’s train of thought cut out, his eyes bouncing across the faces in front of them, counting, counting again. 

“Where’s Rai?”

Mika made a noise in her chest that had Denki’s throat closing up. Kyotoku’s grip on Denki’s shoulder grew painful as his eyes, heavy with sorrow and guilt, met his own.

“He… He’s still inside.”

Denki hadn’t even realized he’d released Aika and charged towards the house until a police officer caught him halfway to the burning building. 

“Sir! Stand down!”

“Let me go!”

“Sir, you need to stay back-!”

“Let me go! My son is in that building! Let me-!”

A second man, this one a firefighter, appeared at the officer’s side, seizing Denki by the shoulder and forcing him back. 

“You’re in the way!”

“Shut up, let me-!”

The firefighter seized him by the front of his shirt, shaking him roughly. 

“Listen to me! Real life ain’t like the movies - you go into that building and you don’t come back out! It’s bad enough that we’ve got one person we need to save, we don’t need you making things worse!”

Then he shoved Denki forcefully back, nearly making him topple over, but Kyotoku was there to catch him. 

Denki was seething. In a removed way, he knew the firefighter was right. People heroically charging into burning buildings was the sort of thing people did on tv because it looked cool. In the real world, it just got you killed. He knew that. He did. 

But he also knew that his son was in that building. Which meant logic and reason could go to hell. 

“I’m sorry, Denki,” his father-in-law was saying, his voice thick with emotion. “I tried… I tried to run up and get him, but the flames… it’s like they’re alive. They moved to block my path, and they swallowed the stairs…”

The police officer was still there, talking over him, looking apologetic yet determined, though Denki could barely hear him. 

“None of the Pros on the scene right now have the right Quirks to enter the building safely,” he was saying, and over his shoulder, Denki could see the firefighters blasting their hoses into the windows on the first floor, but the flames barely seemed to notice them. A blur of pink caught his eye, and he noticed that Mina was there, trying to use her acid to help the firefighters fight the flames. The side of her costume was smoldering; had she tried to enter the building as well?

“Help is on the way, however,” the officer continued. “We’ve received word that both the Pro Heroes Shouto and Real Steel are on heading over. They should be here any minute now, and they’ll be able to help.”

Of course. Todoroki could put the flames out with his ice, and Tetsutetsu could charge into the building without a care for the heat. But his son may not have minutes. With flames that high, with smoke that thick… the building was beginning to groan, the structural integrity weakened beneath the all-consuming flame. Kyotoku was right; this fire was unnatural in every sense of the word. This wasn’t normal arson. This was someone’s Quirk at work.

None of that mattered now, though. All he cared about was getting his son out of that building alive, and he didn’t care what rules or laws he had to break to do so. He was going to charge right into that building again, and if anyone tried to stop him, he would shock them to keep them back if he had to. 

Someone grabbed his arm, tugging him sideways and slightly away from the cop and his father-in-law. 

Denki turned to shrug whoever it was off but found himself staring. 

Emi was nearly as out of breath as he was, her eyes wide and on the fire. She had followed him? Here?! In the midst of all these cops and Pro Heroes?!

“Where is he?” she panted, looking sweaty and pale in the glow of the fire. 

“What?”

“Your kid! I heard you yelling. He’s still inside, right? Where is he?”

He knew this was a life-or-death situation, but his brain was having trouble struggling to put together what she was asking. This was a PLF attack, wasn’t it? She was with the PLF. Why was she asking where his kid was when they were the ones who lit the house on fire and trapped him inside in the first place?

The cop had turned his stern glare away from Denki and onto his sister. At his side, Kyotoku was gaping at Emi with a look of slowly-dawning comprehension. 

“Ma’am, no one is going to enter this building without our consent-!”

“He’s on the second floor!” Kyotoku shouted, earning a curse from the cop and an affirmative nod from his sister. 

“I can get him out,” she said, staring into Denki’s eyes and ignoring the police officer’s continued protests. She held her hand out to him. “But I need a boost.”

It occurred to Denki at that moment that he was being asked to place the life of his son in the hands of a woman who by all rights was likely working to kill him, and whose friends and accomplices were responsible for putting Rai in danger in the first place. The smart thing to do was probably to say no. 

But what choice did he have? Todoroki and Tetsutetsu were who knows how far away, the building was going to come down any second now, and for all he knew, Rai could already be dead. If you’re dangling from a cliff, you grab at whatever you can, even if you don’t know if it can support you. 

He reached out and took his sister’s hand.

“Please bring him out,” he gasped, and in a brilliant flash, let his Quirk send electricity coursing throughout his body as powerfully as he could manage without going brain-dead. 

The cop leaped back with a shout, but a second later, all of Denki’s electricity had been absorbed into his sister like rain on parched desert sand. She held his gaze, her eyes beginning to glow with the power he’d given her, and nodded. 

The cop threw his arms wide again as if he were a human partition. 

“I already told you, no one is going near that building without-”

With a golden electric flash, Emi sped away, straight under the cop’s extended arm and towards the burning building, leaving the man gaping like an idiot. 

Emiko’s Quirk was called ‘EMS’ and was similar in a lot of ways to their father’s. Just like him, she had the ability to absorb electrical charges and expel them at point-of-contact. Also just like him, she was unable to generate her own electrical current. Denki was the only member of their family who had that ability, or the ability to shoot that lightning out of his body without needing to touch anyone, which played a large part in why the MLA had had such high hopes for him when he was younger. But the belief that that meant Denki had a stronger Quirk than his sister was wrong. She could do things Denki and his father couldn’t even dream of. 

One second, Emi had been at his side. The next, she was skidding to a halt by the side of the burning building, crouching low beneath one of the second-story windows. She had a look of intense concentration on her face, as well as pained discomfort from being so near the flames, but she never took her eyes off of the window. 

EMS stood for ‘Electrical Muscle Stimulation’. He remembered learning about it in health class in school. Normal muscle contractions in the human body were stimulated by small electrical impulses passed through nerve endings, and it was actually possible to stick little wires to your body and force muscles to contract by zapping them with electricity. 

Emi’s Quirk was basically that, cranked up to eleven. She could spend the electricity she absorbed to enhance the strength of her muscle contractions, which basically meant that she could, at least temporarily, run faster, jump higher, or punch harder than a regular person. But only so long as the electricity lasted. And it never lasted for long. 

The people working the fire finally noticed her. Shouts were raised, a Pro was dispatched to catch her and pull her back, but electricity was already crackling around her thighs and calves. A second later, she leaped explosively into the air, rising two full stories, her right fist cocked back to throw a punch. 

Her fist hit the window with a flash and a bang as she expelled the last of the lightning she’d stored up straight through her knuckles and into the glass, which exploded inward, releasing a cloud of smoke and ash that swallowed Emi whole as it rose upward in an undulating column. 

She caught the windowsill, her legs kicking erratically as she struggled to pull herself into the building. And then she was gone.

People were shouting now, firefighters still desperately firing their hoses, Pros and cops trying to hold the line as the onlookers bellowed and gasped. Mika was holding Aika again, Kyotoku standing at Denki’s side, all of their eyes trained on the window and the black plume of smoke rising from the burning building that held Denki’s sister and his son. 

He didn’t know how long they waited. Time seemed to have lost all meaning. It could have been seconds, or minutes, or days. The heat from the flames was oppressive, even at this distance, stinging his cheeks and arms like a sunburn. The smoke pricked at his eyes and irritated his throat. The building groaned again, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer it could stay standing. 

Then, out of the smoke from the open window, a shape appeared. 

It was Rai. He was unconscious, hanging from one arm as Emi dangled him from the window into the fresh, open air. He could just see her, slumped against the ledge, coughing violently, as firefighters and Pros surged beneath her. One of the firefighters lifted his hands, his Quirk extending his arms like accordions, grabbing him, lowering him safely to the ground. 

Denki tried to be the first to rush towards his son, but the EMTs beat him to it, gathering Rai in their arms and rushing him back to the ambulance even as they slipped an oxygen mask over his face. 

Emi was lowered down next, though she nearly fell out of the window as she tried to get down. The same firefighter had to catch her, and as he placed her on the ground, Denki could see that her right hand was bleeding profusely. She had it clutched to her chest, blood oozing down her arm as she coughed, a cop having to support her as they walked towards the waiting ambulance. 

When he caught up to the EMTs, Rai had already been placed on a gurney, the oxygen mask still strapped to his face. His eyes were still closed, but he could see he was breathing. 

Mika, Kyotoku, and Aika were already there, the grandparents speaking to the EMT while Aika held her brother’s hand and cried. 

“...still breathing,” the EMT was saying, “but it's very faint. It would be best if we bring him to the ER and let them run some tests. He inhaled a lot of smoke. There will probably be lung damage, and we can’t rule out the risk of something like cyanide poisoning…”

“Can we ride with him?” Mika asked, and the EMT nodded.

“Sure, but we only have so much space. I can take two with me; the others will need to find their own ride.”

“You go,” Kyotoku said, addressing his wife. “One of us needs to stay here for a bit until they get our house put out.”

“And take Aika,” Denki cut in. “I… There’s something I need to check on, but I’ll be down to the hospital in just a bit.”

As they loaded into the ambulance, Denki kept his eyes on his kids. Aika hadn’t even seemed to notice that she was in a vehicle. She was holding her grandmother’s hand and staring at her brother like the world was ending. Rai’s face was so pale. He didn’t seem to have any burns, which was good, but… lung damage, cyanide poisoning… Most deaths in building fires were caused by smoke, not fire. 

As the vehicle pulled away, Kyotoku put an arm around Denki’s shoulder. 

“He’ll be alright, son.”

Denki turned his head and stared over at the still-burning building. Part of the roof had caved in, but the fires seemed to be dying down now, finally. 

“Kyotoku… I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t. You know this isn’t your fault.”

But it was. They’d been attacked because of him. They both knew it. 

“Now go on,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You should do whatever it is you wanted to do then get on down to the hospital. And give my daughter a call. I get the feeling I’ll be tied up for a while, but I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

Not for the first time, Denki was in awe of his father-in-law. He’d just nearly died and had lost not only his home but practically all of his earthly possessions, and here he was, standing tall. Keeping it together. Trying to comfort him.

Nodding, Denki turned and made his way over to the second ambulance so he could check on his sister. That cut had looked bad, and she was probably going to be suffering from side-effects from smoke inhalation as well. 

Still… What on earth. She was the bad guy, right? She and her friends had done this. So why risk her life by running into a burning building to save a life that they’d put in danger in the first place? It didn’t make any sense. 

Could… Could he have been wrong? Was she… maybe not working with their father?

When he arrived at the second ambulance, however, he found the EMTs in a state of nervous panic and confusion. 

Emi had disappeared. 

Chapter Text

The emergency room double-doors slid open and in rushed Denki, frazzled and more than a little out of breath. He had to force himself to walk as calmly as possible across the room to the receptionist, even though the desperate part of him wanted to sprint. 

The receptionist was an older woman with a rather bulbous nose, large, square glasses that were several centimeters thick, and lime-colored skin. She glanced up at Denki as he approached, still typing away at her keyboard, and offered him a generic customer-service smile. 

“How can I help you this evening?”

It was a simple question, with a simple answer, but his fear and distress had him rambling.

“Ah, y-yes. I’m - my name is Kaminari. Denki Kaminari. I’m here to - do you know what room-?”

“Denki.”

He turned and let out a breath of relief upon seeing his father walking up to him. Forgetting the receptionist entirely, Denki turned and jogged over to his dad. 

“Hey! How is she? What happened?”

“She’s fine,” he said softly, placing a fatherly hand on his shoulder which calmed Denki down considerably. “Just breathe. The doctors say she’s going to be alright. She gave us a scare though; she lost a lot of blood.”

“But what happened?”

“Come on,” he said, turning back towards the hall he’d come from and jerking his head for Denki to follow. “I’ll fill you in on the way. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

Denki hadn’t been back from his mission for five minutes before he’d heard the news, and once he had, all thought of bathing, eating, or sleeping, the things he’d most been looking forward to upon returning home, flew out of the window. 

His mother had participated in a skirmish against a group of Pros and somewhere during the fight she’d been badly hurt. They’d rushed her to the ER as soon as they got her back to Deika. If it weren’t for the note Emi had left on the kitchen table, Denki likely wouldn’t have even known. 

“It was an accident,” his father said as they headed down the brightly lit hallway, passing door after door of injured would-be freedom fighters. “She had her cloud cover up but a Pro who was in a fight with one of our guys got knocked in. They couldn’t see, didn’t know she was there, and while trying to fight our guy, well… She got hit instead.”

Denki shook his head, his annoyance briefly overwhelming his concern. This was why she didn’t belong on the front lines. She wasn’t suited for it. When would she learn?

“How bad was it?”

“A blade - or maybe a horn? I’m not sure - pierced her abdomen and tore its way out. Cut one of her hands, too. She lost a kidney, but her other one still works. We’re lucky that someone with a healing Quirk works in this hospital, otherwise…”

He let the comment hang, but a cold chill shivered its way up Denki’s spine. 

“She’ll have to stay off her feet for a while, and there will be no more fighting for the PLF for her, but… At least she’s alive.”

That last part came out as a whisper, and Denki cast his father a concerned look. He had aged considerably over the past year, his once raven dark hair almost completely grey now, but this last incident with Denki’s mom seemed to have pushed him farther than he’d expected. His shoulders were slumped, his face lined, his eyes haggard. How long had it been since he’d slept? 

To be honest, Denki wasn’t feeling much better. It had been two days since his run-in with Jirou, and while his back was still sore from his tumble down that hill, the real problem was that he couldn’t seem to get her words out of his head. Every time he’d tried to sleep, he’d close his eyes and see her, sitting over him, holding him in place, demanding. 

I want to know what it is you want.

Needless to say, he wasn’t getting much rest either. 

“Why was mom even out there?” Denki asked, forcing all thoughts of Jirou out of his mind. “Since when did she go out on raids?”

His father shook his head, exasperated. 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t home when she left. From the sound of things, she approached one of the leaders and volunteered herself. I don’t know what’s going through that woman’s mind sometimes… ah, here we are.”

Her room was like any other room in the hospital. Small, mostly occupied by the bed, with a few chairs situated near the walls and a tv in the corner. There was a vase of flowers on the counter, presumably from one of their neighbors, as well as a tray with food (only jello and juice), but from the looks of it, it hadn’t been touched yet. Denki didn’t have time to think about the food though, despite how hungry he was. Not when his mom was right there. 

She looked bad. Her long, nearly-white hair was limp and tangled. Her face was pale and drawn, her lips thin, her eyes sunken and dark. She looked unusually tiny in her hospital gown, and for the first time in his life, even though he’d been taller than her since he was thirteen, Denki was struck by just how much smaller than him she was. Weaker. More fragile. 

Emi was in the room, sitting by the bedside, holding her mother’s hand. She offered her brother a weak smile when he entered, but from the bags under her eyes, she was in desperate need of sleep as well. She and their dad had probably been here since yesterday when his mom had been brought in. 

“Sora,” his dad said softly, reaching out and touching his wife’s ankle through her blanket. “Sweetheart? Are you awake? Denki’s here.”

He considered telling his dad to let her be, but he stopped when her eyes fluttered open. 

Her gaze found his almost instantly, and she offered him a small, tremulous smile. For a moment, the tension that had permeated their relationship over the past several months seemed to dissipate, and she became his mother again. 

“H-hey, mom. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she replied, her voice faint yet possessed of that same straight-forward tone he had always associated her with, and he smiled. “One of the new kids saw me go down and was able to get me back in time. Dr. Inowa says I’ll make a full recovery and should be back on my feet in just a couple of weeks. We’re lucky the PLF has such an accomplished doctor on our side, and with such a rare healing Quirk.”

“Very lucky,” his father murmured, sitting down beside Emi. His eyes bounced from his son to his daughter to his wife, as though counting, and Denki knew him well enough to know that he was just grateful to have them all together in one room again, alive and (relatively) safe. 

But while contentment shone in the eyes of his father, Denki could feel the anxiety and frustration and guilt that had been kept simmering inside him ever since his confrontation with Jirou suddenly and unexpectedly leap to full boil when he heard his mother express gratitude to the PLF for its doctor keeping her alive. They were the ones who had gotten her injured in the first place. How could she not see that?

Denki knew he should leave it alone for now. She was hurt, they were all exhausted, listening ears were all around them. Now was not the time for a confrontation. 

But anger and self-loathing and his mother nearly dying and Jirou’s eyes and everything about the past year that he’d been struggling to keep bottled up just… couldn’t be contained anymore. 

Without realizing what he was even doing, he blurted out, “Mom, this has to stop.”

She blinked, befuddled, not understanding. Emi stiffened but kept her gaze averted. 

His father lifted his hand in his direction, murmuring a soft, “Denki, not now-”

“You don’t belong on the front lines,” he continued, running his father over and stepping closer to the bed, wrapping his quivering hands around the cold metal bars near his mother’s feet. “You’re not a fighter. Leave the fighting to others. Seriously, you could have died.”

To anyone else, that might have sounded like the words of a concerned son to their injured parent. Normal words, for a normal family, in an abnormal situation. 

However, these were not normal times, and they were not a normal family. 

Denki knew, even in his exhausted state, how bad it was to say what he’d just said to his mother. Nobody was more dedicated to Destro and his ideals than she was. Being on the front lines, being a leader, was all she had ever wanted. It was something she’d always been denied, because Denki was right. She wasn’t cut out for it. She just wasn’t. 

But this war had presented her with an opportunity to get that chance she’d always dreamed of. And now, here was her son. Taking those words she’d always been told. Throwing those words back at her again. Kicking her while she was already down. 

His father was right. Now was not the time to bring this up. But Denki was angry. Angry at her, for risking her life over something so stupid and wrong. Angry at himself, for sitting on the sidelines for so long. 

But maybe, if he could… talk her around. If he could convince her to pull back, maybe step away, then maybe… maybe, the next time he saw Jirou, he’d have a different answer… And they could find a way together to get his family out.

His mother’s fingers were clenched, fistfuls of blanket tangled in her pale, quivering hands. As frail as she looked, her gaze was as strong as ever. Her eyes pierced him just as surely as Jirou’s had two days ago on that darkened hillside, and suddenly, horribly, he found himself wishing he wasn’t there.

“What would you know?” she rasped, angry, hurt. 

“You don’t need to be there-” he tried again, his voice guttering like a candle in a storm, but she ran him over.

“If not me, then who? Someone has to stand up, Denki! Someone has to be willing to fight-!”

“But that someone doesn’t have to be you!” he shot back, raising his voice. “I’m already out there, I’m already fighting-!”

She snorted, and he felt something inside of him lock up. He knew what was coming next.

“You? You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? Hiding from the others, avoiding responsibility, going on raids to keep up appearances but staying in the back where it’s safe? You think that’s standing up?”

Denki swallowed. 

He’d just been trying to avoid hurting people. He didn’t want to hurt people. Couldn’t she see?

“Mom, I-”

“Do you know what I’ve been put through because of you? The shame I feel every day when the neighbors offer me their sympathy, when our leaders look down on our family because my son is a failure and a coward?”

“Sora-” Denki’s father tried to cut in, looking distressed, but she ran him over. 

“The only reason I had to go out there to fight, the only reason I’m here now, was because you weren’t pulling your weight! So don’t… don’t stand there and tell me I’m not good enough when you can’t even be bothered to try!”

There were tears in her eyes now, her chest heaving, jagged spikes on the heart monitor slowly increasing as his mother glared at him with pure hatred and loathing. 

He tried to unstick his throat, but he couldn’t. He had said the worst possible thing he could have to his mother, and she’d retaliated in kind. She was right. He was a coward and a failure. He’d spent the past year running. Running and running and accomplishing nothing. 

Running, because he didn’t belong here. Not with the PLF. Not with his family. Not anymore. 

He wasn’t even welcome in his mother’s hospital room. 

And if he didn’t belong with his own family, then…

Jirou’s voice seemed to echo in his head again. 

Where do you want to stay?

“I’ll go.”

Every head in the room snapped to the side. 

Emiko sat stiffly in place, her spine straight, her expression resolute. Denki thought he must have misheard her. 

“Emi, no,” his father said, voice stern. “You’re too young, you’re only fifteen-”

“That’s how old Denki was when he was sent off to UA,” she shot back, glowering at her dad. “If he was old enough to fight then, then I’m old enough now!”

Her eyes flickered momentarily toward her brother, but her expression was unreadable. He felt something cold and heavy welling up in his chest.

Their mother, however, beamed as though Emi had just given her the world.

“Oh, Emiko… You make me so proud...”

“Sora!”

“No, Renjirou! She’s old enough to make her own decisions! If I can’t fight anymore, then Emiko will carry the torch for me!”

Emi smiled, though it was lopsided. She didn’t look half as excited as their mother was. 

Unable to stomach another minute of this, Denki turned and left the hospital room without another word. 

Denki’s father chased after him. 

“Denki! Denki, wait!”

“It’s fine, dad.”

“No, it’s not. She… She’s not in the right state of mind, she’s under a lot of medication and… she’s exhausted-”

“Dad,” he said, coming to a stop and turning to face the older man. “I said it’s fine.”

His father stared at him for a moment, his electric-blue eyes heavy with exhaustion and concern. 

“I know where you’re coming from,” he said softly, “but… you know your mother. You understand why she is the way she is-”

“Dad,” Denki cut in again, not wanting to talk about this right now and not just because he knew he’d screwed up. Screwed up, just like he always did. “Please. Go back and be with mom. I just need… to take a walk.”

After a brief pause, his father nodded, giving his son an affectionate pat on the shoulder before heading back, leaving him alone in the hallway. 

He understood why his mother was the way she was, huh? 

That was sort-of true. He knew the events that had led to her becoming the woman she was. But just as always, he found it difficult to fully empathize with them. 

When his mother was seven years old, her father, Denki’s grandfather, had been arrested for interfering with a Pro Hero who was trying to save a life.

From what he’d been told, his grandfather was the kind of person who was relentlessly headstrong and didn’t like being told no; a lot like Denki’s mom. He had a Quirk that let him manipulate air currents, and from the time that he was a kid, he used his Quirk all the time, for the most mundane things. Blowing leaves around, air-drying his clothes or hands, making paper airplanes fly. You know. Stupid, harmless things. 

The problem was, Quirk usage in public was against the law without a permit. While that was true, most police officers weren’t too uptight about it unless your Quirk or the way you were using it presented a clear and present danger. Usually, they just slapped you with a verbal warning and you went about your day. 

Denki’s grandfather, however, seemed to take this as a personal challenge. As a teenager, he’d received countless warnings, but when he became an adult and continued to use his Quirk whenever he wanted, law enforcement decided that they needed to take him a bit more seriously and began issuing fines whenever he was caught. This continued, even after he was married, even after he had a daughter. It was like he was waging a dumb, personal war against the police. 

And then one day, Sora’s Quirk had manifested unexpectedly. 

Denki never heard the particulars of how it happened. His mother had always seemed to gloss over it, which had always made it seem to him like she was hiding something or else couldn’t remember the details exactly herself because she was so young. But she had been somewhere high up, her clouds appeared, she couldn’t see, and she nearly fell. 

A Pro who could fly was in the area. He swooped low, ready to enter the clouds and pull her out, when Denki’s grandfather arrived and used his Quirk to send a powerful gust of wind at the clouds to blow them away. He caught the Hero in the blast, however, knocking him out of the air. The man fell two stories and broke his back, and was paralyzed for the rest of his life. 

Now, in a normal case, a judge may have been a little more lenient. The man had clearly been trying to help his daughter, he hadn’t meant to hit the Hero. But considering both his grandfather’s lengthy history of flaunting his Quirk in public as well as the severity of the injury sustained by the Hero, who had been decently famous, the judge decided that the man deserved sentencing that was a little more serious. And he was sent to prison for two years. 

In the following years, his wife divorced him, he lost parental custody of his daughter, and with his record, he found it difficult to find stable employment. Resentment and displacement led to drinking and public altercations and more jail time. At some point, he met the MLA and was radicalized. 

When Denki’s mother was fourteen, her father was accidentally killed in a battle against Heroes. 

It wasn’t until after the war with Shigaraki had ended and Denki had time to sit back and reflect on his family that he really began to understand his mother. 

She wasn’t loyal to the PLF simply because she truly believed in Destro’s teachings. She did believe, and she did think the world would be a better place without laws restricting Quirk usage. But in reality, her devotion had more to do with her father, who was, in her eyes, a victim of those laws. She blamed society for taking him away from her, and her battle was the only way she knew to exact revenge, to honor his memory and keep him close. 

But as a teenager, Denki hadn’t understood that. 

All he saw as he left the hospital that day was his mother, selfish and self-destructive, willfully sending her teenage daughter to the front lines of the wrong side of a war. A war that Denki had been sitting on the sidelines of for far too long. 

He returned home, crawling into bed, exhausted. In his head, the voices of the people he loved seemed to echo endlessly, keeping him from sleep.

You think that’s standing up?

I want to know what it is you want.

Don’t forget who it is you’re fighting for.

The next morning, when his sister reported to headquarters to request to be put to work, she was surprised to find her brother there with her. So were many others, and he couldn’t avoid the smug, arrogant whispers that he occasionally heard, that Kaminari was finally deciding to pull his weight now that his mommy was hurt. At least one good thing came from her embarrassing showcase. 

He ignored them. After a night of tossing and turning, he’d come to a conclusion. No more standing on the sidelines. He couldn’t sit back and pray and expect things to get better on their own. He needed to act.

He joined strategy meetings with other PLF members, contributing to planning attacks, receiving orders from higher-ups. He began socializing with other members, making friends, discussing the war and the things they were doing, hypothesizing on what the next steps would be. He learned as much as he could, memorizing all of it. 

And on the next raid he was sent out on, he didn’t hide. He threw himself into the fray, standing out, taking on Pros with reckless courage. He was an inspiration, his teammates said. He was truly living up to Destro’s ideals. His family would be proud. 

During that fight, the first of many to come, he directed the bulk of his firepower on a sidekick who struggled to fight back. He carefully directed his shots, separating him from the others, chasing them into an abandoned alley where there was nowhere to run. 

And as he bore down on the man, lightning crackling in the palm of his hand, inches from his face as he pinned him against the wall, he whispered, barely loud enough to hear, “Do you know a Hero named Earphone Jack?”

The sidekick blinked, not understanding at first. And then with a surprising show of backbone, spat at Denki. 

“If you think I’m going to tell you anything-!”

Denki slammed him against the wall again, just hard enough to get him to shut up. 

“Just answer the question. Do you know her, or Red Riot, or Pinky, or Cellophane, or anyone from UA. A teacher would do - Eraser Head, Midnight, anyone-”

“I know them,” he said quickly, eyeing the electricity still crackling in Denki’s fist. “But why? I’m not going to sell out teenagers-”

“I have a message for Earphone Jack,” Denki cut in, licking his lips anxiously. Now was his moment. 

And he told him. Everything he’d learned in the PLF meetings, every important-sounding rumor, every agency they were targeting, everything. He told it as succinctly as possible, hoping the man could remember it all. He’d considered writing it down, but if it had been found, his intentions would be discovered, and he couldn’t risk that. This was the best he could come up with.

When he was done, the Hero stared at him. 

“...Who are you? An undercover Pro?”

“No. Now, I want you to lay down right here and be quiet. The others need to think you’re down so they’ll leave you alone. Once we’re gone, get back to the Heroes and deliver the message.”

“How do I know we can trust you?”

Denki hesitated. The honest answer was that they had every reason not to trust him, but he needed that message to be delivered. 

“If she asks, just tell her it was from Jamming-Whey,” he said, trusting her to recognize the terrible nickname she’d given him. He ignored the way the Pro repeated the name with incredulity. “And tell her… Tell her this is my answer.”

His mother wanted him to take a stand. Well, he was. Whether she liked it or not. But this was the only way he could think of to save his family. His mother wouldn’t back down from this fight. The only way to save her, and his dad, and his sister, was to make sure this war ended as quickly as possible. Before anyone else got hurt.

Denki wasn’t good at most things. He wasn’t all that smart. Or strong. Or brave. To be honest, he failed at most everything he did. And if the last year had taught him anything, he wasn’t a very good person, either.  

Denki wasn’t good at most things. But he had some experience being a traitor. 

And if that was what it took, well… 

Then that was what he was going to be. 

It was three in the morning by the time that Kyouka returned to the hospital room. 

Denki was still awake. How could he not be, given what had happened earlier that day? Given what was lying unconscious on the hospital bed in front of him with an oxygen mask strapped to his too-small face?

His wife, still in her Hero outfit, quietly crossed the dimly lit room and took the seat at his side. All was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. 

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice thin and somewhat raspy from disuse. 

“Everyone’s settled in,” she replied, keeping her eyes on Rai’s sleeping face. “Momo offered to let Aika sleep in Rei’s room - y’know, like a slumber party - but she insisted on staying with mom. She’s still scared, I think.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. Hearing the words ‘Rei’ and ‘slumber party’ together in the same sentence reminded him of earlier that morning (or was it the day before?) when he’d been teasing her about her upcoming birthday and she’d asked to go to Rei’s house. Would things be different now if he’d agreed? Or would it have been Rei and her grandmother who wound up in danger together with his kids rather than his in-laws?

Either way, his gratitude for Yaomomo and Todoroki was unending. They’d offered to take Kyouka’s parents in while they figured out what to do about their housing situation. Kaminari had been planning to have them stay with them at their apartment, but it was true that Todoroki’s family estate was quite a bit larger, and with the insane amount of money the two had (both from their highly lucrative jobs as well as dual inheritances), the security there was even better than what he and Kyouka had. They would be safe and comfortable there. 

This was actually the first time Denki and Kyouka had been alone together since Rai had been admitted to the hospital. She’d arrived only a few minutes after Denki had, nearly hysterical, and had been by his side, hugging her daughter and trying her best to put on a brave face for her and her parents. Now that they’d finally left for the evening, she could take the mask off. 

“Denki… How did this happen?”

It was a rhetorical question, he knew, but he answered anyway if only so he could voice his thoughts aloud instead of endlessly cycling them in his head. 

“I don’t know. I dropped them off, I left, I met Emi on the road… We were a good ten, fifteen-minute walk away when I heard the explosion. I don’t… I don’t understand why they would attack the house when I was right there in the open.”

Well, that wasn’t true. He did understand why. It was because the PLF was full of psychotic terrorists and killing the people Denki loved was apparently their goal. The problem was, he’d taken some comfort before in the presumed idea that it was him they were targeting because it meant his kids would be safe if he wasn’t physically near them. Now, they were in danger no matter where they were, simply by virtue of being his kids. And he didn’t know how to guarantee their safety anymore. 

“Did she really… Was it really her who…”

Denki nodded, knowing what she was asking. Yes, it really had been Emiko who had rescued their son from the fire. Emiko, the PLF member who they had assumed had been working with their escaped father. Kyouka shook her head. 

“That doesn’t add up.”

He nodded a second time. 

“All I can think is that maybe she was trying to earn her way into our good graces, but…”

“Why risk your life on a gambit that might not even work, yeah.”

Kyouka sighed.

“I guess I owe her a thanks if I ever see her.”

If he was in a better mood, he would have laughed. If Kyouka ever bumped into Emi on the street, she’d stop at nothing to arrest her. She might tag a thank-you on after the fact. 

After a moment, Kyouka leaned over, melting into Denki’s side, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“You should get some rest,” she whispered. 

“So should you,” he replied. 

Neither of them had any intention of sleeping until Rai opened his eyes again. 

Denki hated hospitals. Granted, he didn’t know anyone who liked them per se, but it seemed as though all of his worst memories involved or otherwise ended at hospitals, and this situation was just another to add to the pile. 

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but recall the time ten years ago, during the war with Shigaraki, when he’d heard that his mother had been rushed to the ER. He’d ran to see her, but had ended up leaving the room shortly thereafter, distressed.

That was the day he’d finally decided to fight for what he wanted. Regardless of the risks, he’d decided to put his life on the line and do whatever he could to keep his family safe. He’d been a villain, pretending to be a Hero, working in secret to end the conflict by whatever means necessary. Precisely so he wouldn’t have to end up in the hospital like this again. 

And right now, he could feel a similar resolution beginning to burn within him. 

These attacks were not going to stop until he found his father, until he put him behind bars. But the PLF was no longer just targeting him. They were going straight for his family, which meant that the fastest way to end this would be to find his father himself. 

Only, Denki didn’t have the legal right to do that. But as he’d learned in the war, as he’d learned from the grandfather he’d never really understood until now, there were some things that were worth risking everything for. 

He was just a civilian, pretending to be a Hero, working in secret to end this conflict by whatever means necessary. And if he had to break the law to keep his kids safe, well… then that was what he was willing to do. 

For now, though, he wasn’t going to leave his son’s side. 

And so the night dragged on, and Denki remained still, holding his wife’s hand, his exhausted eyes locked firmly on the unconscious face of his little boy. 

Chapter Text

Emiko’s foot slammed against the center of a pair of old, rusted double-doors, kicking them open with a startling bang, making the men loitering inside jump and look around. 

She entered the hideout seething. Her hand ached, her throat burned, and there were ash stains on her sweater and new shoes. Someone was going to pay, and she had a feeling she knew who. 

The hideout was one of the old, abandoned Detnerat inc. warehouses littered around the country. Detnerat had been Re-Destro’s company that made everything from clothing to support gear for Quirk users of all body types. It had also been a front for villainous activity, not all of which was directly MLA related, so many of his warehouses had gone unmarked, listed under false names, and had managed to escape the purge after his death and the subsequent seizing of his property. 

These unmarked, secret warehouses had made perfect shelters for displaced MLA members after the war had ended, and it was in those shelters that Emi had spent the bulk of the last ten years. Oh, she had fake IDs and had worked a number of part-time jobs in the intervening time. She’d even finished high school. But she, just like everyone else who migrated between these shelters, was still a member of the MLA through and through. And she’d never forgotten that fact. 

A few minutes later, after making her way through the cluttered, unkempt hideout, ascending three flights of stairs, and entering into the vast, dusty storage space, she found her quarry. 

They were seated in what they called ‘the break room’, as though the hideout was a boring modern-day office building. It actually was an office of some kind, probably the warehouse manager’s, complete with cheap white wallpaper, acoustic ceiling tiles, and dirty linoleum flooring. They’d removed the desk and filing cabinets sometime back and hefted a pair of decades-old refrigerators, a moth-eaten camelback couch, a tv, and a plastic folding table with an assortment of mismatched garden chairs into the room to make it feel more ‘homey’. It didn’t really work, but hey. A room was a room.

The lights overhead glowed an eerie phosphorescent blueish white that threw off the contrast of everything in the room. When she entered, she felt for a moment like she was stepping back in time to those summer nights when she’d come downstairs and find Denki asleep on the couch, the only source of light being the tv that he’d left on. However, it wasn’t her brother she was coming for. Not right now, at least.

Hotaru Ueda was a spindly woman in her early thirties with wavy scarlet hair that she always wore in a high, tight ponytail. She had an angular face like a fox and eyes as black as charcoal, which had always seemed to mirror her sneaky and heartless personality. The two hadn’t gotten along from the moment they met. 

At her side, as always, sat her underling - Yaso Takeuchi. Yaso was an idiot, full stop. He was a short, bony little man with a too-big head and lips like a fish. He rarely acted on his own, instead choosing to follow Hotaru around and heed her every beck and call. They had an almost cartoonish master and servant relationship that would be comical if she hadn’t found them both to be so repulsive. 

There were two others seated at the table with them. Daigoro Fujimoto, a taller guy who looked like an earthworm, and Yuu Ohno, a fifteen-year-old with short dark hair and wide eyes who Emi had been practically looking after since the war had ended. 

It was Yuu who noticed her first when she entered the room, turning away from the TV as it broadcasted the news about the fire, and his face lit up with familial affection. 

“Oh, Emi! Welcome ba-”

He cut off as Emi slammed both of her hands down onto the rickety tabletop, sending a sharp stab of pain up her injured wrist and accidentally upsetting Daigoro’s beer can as she glared down at Hotaru and Yaso. 

“What...” she breathed, her voice still painful and raspy, “the hell… was that?”

“Oh look,” Hotaru drawled, slowly turning her head to shoot Yaso a look of dull surprise, “the little imp survived. What a shame.”

Yaso giggled like an inebriated baboon, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes on the one with enough brain cells to keep the conversation going. 

“We had a plan!” she growled, hitting the table again to punctuate her point (this time with her good hand), earning a disgruntled look from Daigoro as he had to secure his beer can again, and Hotaru rolled her eyes. 

“Plans change.”

“Then what was the point of all of it?!” she exclaimed, trying to shout and being forced to stop and cough violently into her arm. Hotaru watched with fake sympathy while Yuu reached out to gently pat her back. 

“Me going to see my brother again,” she continued once she’d regained her breath, “putting the idea into his head of me being hunted, me risking getting arrested - you threw all of that down the drain today! You could have ruined everything!”

“I’m terribly sorry, dear,” she simpered, idly examining her nails as though she couldn’t be bothered to give Emi her full attention. “It was an honest mistake. Accidents happen. You know how it is.”

“How was that an accident?! Denki was with me, several blocks away! You were supposed to pretend to attack us so that I could ‘help’ Denki fight you off and win his trust-!”

“Yes, yes, I know all about your ‘plan’, Emi darling,” Hotaru butted in, waving her hand airily. “And I’m terribly sorry about that, truly. It’s just, Yaso here must have missed seeing your brother leave, and we thought it best to attack when he was least expecting it. It was an honest mistake, but we knew you’d be able to clean it up for us.”

Emi was grinding her teeth so hard she was worried they would snap off. This bitch… she didn’t care about any of that, she was just mad that her part in the plan had her pretending to ‘lose’ in a fight against Emi and her pride wouldn’t allow it!

“Still,” Emi said, trying to get a grip on her temper, “your target was Denki and he was with me! The only thing attacking that house did was draw more attention to ourselves than we need right now!”

“Are you sure you’re not just mad about that kid almost being torched?” Yaso cut in, his lips quirking into a knowing smirk. 

For a moment, Emi just stared at him. 

Then she punched him in the face. 

He reeled back in his chair, losing his balance, falling backward onto the cold, dusty floor. Daigoro burst out laughing. Yuu looked horrified. 

Hotaru merely watched with a bland expression on her face, unwilling or unable to care. 

She should have used her other hand, she thought absently as she examined the bandage the EMT had given her. Her cut had broken open again and was stinging like crazy, her blood staining through the beige fabric.

“What-?! What the hell, Emi?!” Yaso blathered, struggling to get up while also cupping his now bleeding nose. 

“I’m mad because I’m the one who almost got torched, you son of a-!”

“Emiko,” a deep, soft voice cut in from behind her, “that’s enough.”

Emi stopped, turning together with everyone else to face the newcomer as he entered the room. 

Ten years in prison had changed Emi’s father. 

Once, Renjiro Kaminari had been a man of bright smiles and heartwarming laughter. He was soft-spoken, supportive, caring, and told the worst jokes known to man. His overprotectiveness could be annoying at times, but it was no secret that he’d adored his children, and she adored him in kind. After Shigaraki had taken over, with her brother gone or intentionally isolating himself and her mother embracing the League whole-heartedly, her dad had been the only person she could turn to. 

Now, however, the man was almost unrecognizable. His hair had gone fully white, hanging down in unkempt tangles just past his shoulders, which, together with his close-cut facial hair, really cemented the reality that he had aged. His eyes, once so full of warmth and life, were now cold and hard, accented with heavy lines. He rarely smiled nowadays, and when he did, it chilled her. 

She kept telling herself that he just needed time to adjust. He’d been on the inside for so long, alone, without his family… but the more time went by, the less and less she believed that. 

“Dad,” she began, unwilling to throw away her anger even for him, “did you hear what these idiots did?!”

“Yes, Emi, I heard,” he said, his voice softer than she remembered. He came to a stop at the table and looked down at everyone, tickling her arm with the edges of the cloak he’d taken to wearing to hide the battery packs he kept strapped to his sides. Yuu looked away uncomfortably. “Hotaru, Yaso, your adaptability is to be commended. You pulled off a greater feat today than anyone had been expecting.”

Yaso smiled stupidly, blood still dripping down his lips, staining his teeth red. In the blueish light, he looked vampiric. Hotaru, for her part, preened like a smug cat, with the air that the praise was normal and to be expected. 

Emi tried not to splutter. 

Commended?! They’d nearly ruined everything!

“However,” he continued as though he could read her thoughts, “I think we can all agree that my daughter is the true hero of the hour.” 

As he spoke, a smile graced his face, but it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes. Emi held his gaze but took note of the familiar cold light inside them. The same one she’d seen in her mom’s eyes shortly after Shigaraki took over the MLA. One that reminded her of a dangerous, self-destructive drive. 

“Emiko’s actions today truly represented Destro’s ideals. How many men and women crowded around that burning building and did nothing? Even if they had the strength to assist, they could not, because of the foolish laws society has been shackled with. But Emi was not afraid to use her strength to assist, and in so doing, has proven once again how flawed society has become.

“But more than that, she was able to take advantage of this unique situation Hotaru provided, and by risking her life to save the child who was trapped in that building, she was able to gain more of Denki’s trust than she would have been able to otherwise. Thanks to your combined efforts, I believe we will be able to expedite our plans.”

Hotaru flashed Emiko a condescending smirk, but Emi hardly noticed. Her father’s praise had seemed notable on the surface, but to her, it just felt like he was paying lip service not just to her and Hotaru, but to the MLA as a whole. His obsession with getting revenge on Denki was consuming all other parts of his life. 

He and the others who they had broken out of prison all seemed to share that singular, all-consuming hunger for revenge. She supposed that’s what happened when you were isolated from the rest of society for a decade and were forced to do nothing other than sit and stew in your regrets. 

It wasn’t that Emi and the others didn’t want revenge, too. It was just… they’d been out, living their lives for the past ten years as close to ‘normal’ as was possible. Sure, many of them still harbored regrets, but many of them had also not liked the direction Shigaraki had taken them in the first place. They’d seen enough of violence and war. Those who still sought for reform had chosen to do so through slower, more pacifistic means. Rare were the free MLA survivors who still wanted to fight. It had been a chore to gather enough of them together in the first place, let alone convince them to help her break her father out of prison.

“Now that you’ve made direct contact with that boy, however,” her father continued, “I think our plans may deserve some tweaking. We’ll need to discuss this tonight with everyone, but Emi, you’re going to be the linchpin of this plan. It would be useful if you could do your best to find out more about those kids in the future. Rest up for now. You’ll need your strength.”

And then he turned and walked away. 

Part of her wanted to chase after him, to ask him if he was really sure he wanted to do this, to remind him that ‘that boy’ who she’d pulled from the fire was actually his grandson and didn’t he care? But that thought only reminded her that that meant that the body of the unconscious child she’d pulled from that burning building was her nephew and that she was partially to blame for hurting him. She could still feel the weight of his tiny body in her arms, the feeling of actual dread that had coursed through her when she’d found him unresponsive beneath that dense, burning cloud of smoke. 

She didn’t like that she was feeling sympathy, but she knew what it was like to be a child pulled against your will into your parents’ war. That kid had done nothing wrong. She could never forgive Denki for what he’d done, but the boy was innocent. Did her father feel that way? Or did he, like Hotaru, consider him to be nothing more than collateral damage?

Hotaru and Yaso left right after Emi’s dad, Yaso casting her a sinister glare that she ignored. She collapsed into one of the free chairs a moment later. 

Now that she was seated, the aches in her body seemed to return with gusto. Nothing was as bad as her hand, however. She tried her best not to let her discomfort show on her face. She’d need to get someone to look at it. That EMT had said she might need stitches...

Daigoro, who had gotten to his feet, pulled a bottle of water from the fridge in the corner and tossed it in her direction. She caught it with thanks and took a grateful sip. Her throat still burned, but she was dying of thirst, so she drank it down. 

“Look, for what it’s worth, I’m with you, Em,” the human earthworm said, earning a surprised look from her and Yuu. “Give me a Pro or a cop to fight, and I’m there, any day of the week. But a kid? I don’t mess with kids. I may be a villain, but even I’ve got standards.”

He threw them a lazy wave before walking away, leaving Emi alone with Yuu. 

As soon as they were alone, he launched into his questions. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yuu-”

“I can go get the first aid kit!”

“For what?” she asked, chuckling gently. “You gonna put a bandaid on my lungs?”

He frowned, realizing she was right, and then changed his angle of attack. 

“You need to watch out for Yaso. I think he’s going to want to get back at you for hitting him.”

Emi rolled her eyes. Yaso was stupid enough to try, sure, but they both knew she could kick his ass all day any day. His Quirk was horrifying, it was true; it was called ‘Agony’, and did what it said it did. He could, just by touching you, make you feel excruciating pain. But it was all in your head, so if you knew that, it was easy enough to push through with enough will power. Plus, if she had juice in her, she could just shock him the moment he made physical contact. 

Hotaru was the one to watch out for. She could manipulate fire. She couldn’t create it herself, but she could move it around, make it grow. Emi had known the second she set eyes on the blaze that it was Hotaru’s handiwork. She’d seen it in action often enough. 

Still, she wasn’t likely to attack Emi directly. That wasn’t her style. She was more of a ‘behind the scenes’ sort of player. 

Besides, the one who was more at risk here was Yuu. 364 days out of the year, he was basically Quirkless. And everyone knew she had a soft spot for him.

Yuu was a decade younger than Emi, but she was something of a cross between his surrogate mother and big sister. A… cool aunt, maybe? He’d lost both of his parents in the war, and in the months following the end, when MLA survivors had been gathering in hideouts around the country to try and make do, Emi and Yuu had met and she’d sort of taken to looking after him. It was good for him, because he was five at the time and small and weak and easy to overlook, and it was good for her, because she needed a distraction to stop herself from fixating on everything she’d lost. 

Thoughts of scared, crying, five-year-old Yuu morphed into the image of her nephew unconscious in her arms, and Emi shuddered, looking away. 

Yuu’s concern cranked into overdrive. 

“Emi, are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, bud. I just… need some rest.”

That was what her father had said, right? She needed rest before they met to change up their plans once again? He’d also said something about Denki’s kids and Emi being the linchpin, which made her incredibly uncomfortable. She would worry about that later. 

For now, however, she’d find an old, dusty couch or cot to crash on, maybe get something for her throat, and try to sleep. Sleep, and not fixate on the well-being of a nephew she didn’t even know. 

She couldn’t let herself become sentimental now. 

Rai woke sometime early the next morning, delighting his parents and befuddling the nurse when the first thing that came out of his mouth was that he was hungry and wanted salted eel for breakfast. 

They’d been visited by a volunteer with a healing quirk in the middle of the night. She was technically a paramedic, not officially employed by the hospital, but a friend of hers who worked there had mentioned there was a four-year-old in the ICU and she decided to swing by before her shift. 

Healing Quirks were rare. Most people nowadays seemed to think that having a flashy, powerful Quirk was the fastest route to fame and success because it meant you could be a stand-out Hero, but the truth was, having a Quirk that could heal was more than a fast track - it straight up put you there the moment the government knew what you could do. 

It meant guaranteed admission to any medical school in the world, regardless of your grades, at no cost. It meant tax breaks if you volunteered your time. Over a hundred million people lived in Japan, and healing Quirk users could be numbered at around thirty-seven, and like all Quirks, they couldn’t use their gifts indiscriminately. They had limits, a set amount of stamina, just like everyone else. Having one visit you in the hospital was a stroke of tremendous fortune.

Denki had actually felt somewhat guilty. After the paramedic had seen to Rai, she’d turned to Kyouka and, blushing profusely, had asked for an autograph, to which Kyouka had immediately agreed. He couldn’t help but wonder if her being here had less to do with altruism and more to do with his son being the child of a famous person… but then again, the paramedic had left to visit other patients after seeing to Rai, so even if his son getting her attention had only been because of his famous mother, at least other patients were benefiting from it as well. That made him feel a little better. 

Thanks to the expedited healing, Rai was cleared to leave the hospital the next day, and, at Yaoyorozu’s insistence, rather than taking him home, they brought him over to the Todoroki estate to stay with his sister and grandparents while the Pros continued the search for Denki’s father. 

Having his kids stay with the Todoroki’s for the time being was ideal for multiple reasons. First, security was tighter there than it was even at his apartment. That was because Shouto and Momo could afford to shell out for the best - and as both were consistently ranked in the top ten, and considering who Shouto’s father was and how many enemies he’d had, they really needed that security more than most. 

Second, their estate was significantly larger than Denki’s four-bedroom apartment. Originally built at Endeavor’s command only a few months before his untimely death at the hands of the League, it was supposed to be a home for his children and estranged wife after she was finally released from the hospital. As such, the multiple-acre plot of land in the middle of the metropolitan city contained a spacious flower garden, a small orchard of fruit-bearing trees, and a veritable three-story mansion that was large enough to house Shouto, his two siblings, and his mother, and all of their families, and still have room to spare. 

Finally, keeping his kids with their grandparents as well as Yaomomo’s daughter was an excellent way to distract them from the attack and the goings-on of the world while Denki and the actual Heroes focused on catching the PLF survivors once and for all. 

Not even ten seconds after fully entering the auspicious house, while they were still in the entryway removing their shoes, Aika came tearing around the corner, sliding on socked feet across the smooth wooden flooring, crashing wildly against the wall. 

Denki opened his mouth to chastise her out of habit, but before he could speak, she’d already reached them and captured her little brother in a flying tackle-hug. 

“Rai! You’re ok!”

As cute as the scene was, particularly since Aika was usually so reserved, Rai had just been released from the hospital so it probably wasn’t a good idea to let his sister squeeze him to death. Not that he looked bothered by it, hugging his sister back just as fiercely and giggling for all the world like he hadn’t nearly died the day before. To be fair, he still hadn’t seemed to realize exactly what had happened to him. He probably just thought his sister was being unusually friendly. 

While Denki pulled his kids to their feet, trying not to let too much concern over Rai show on his face, Aika was followed by Denki’s in-laws, both beaming with joy and relief, and then a moment later by her best friend, Rei, who looked torn between her excitement and concern for Rai as well as her innate need to constantly seem polite and in control. She’d inherited that from her mother, as well as her complete and total lack of poker face. 

Rei Todoroki, named after her paternal grandmother, was a cute kid - but then, considering how attractive both of her parents were, that was a given. She was unusually tall for her age, only three months younger than Aika yet standing eight or nine centimeters taller than her, with her mother’s cobalt irises and her grandmother’s snow-white hair that undulated down past her shoulders in waves. She’d inherited her ice Quirk from her father’s side of the family but was able to make the ice form into much more complex and intricate shapes than her father could, the control for which she’d likely inherited from her mom - something Denki had learned the hard way the previous winter during a snowman building competition that he had handily lost.

While Rai was busy being smothered by his sister and grandparents’ affection, much to his delight, Rei took the completely unnecessary time to bow politely to Denki and Kyouka and welcome them into her home, all the while staring anxiously at Rai as if she too wanted to be hugging him. 

Denki snorted and reached out, ruffling her hair. 

“Why do you always say hello to me like you don’t know me?”

She flushed, embarrassed, and mumbled an apologetic “Sorry, Uncle Denki,” before accepting a side-hug from Kyouka. 

The commotion in the entryway finally drew the attention of the house’s owners, and Yaomomo and Todoroki appeared, along with the elder Rei, who greeted them all with familial warmth. At Momo’s bidding, Rei and Aika took Rai off to play, both girls fussing over him more than they ever had before, and after exchanging the normal pleasantries with Todoroki’s mother and making sure that everything with his in-laws was settled, Denki and Kyouka agreed to stay for dinner. 

It was a rambunctious affair, much more so than usual, with Denki’s entire family plus his in-laws crowding around the table. Shouto’s sister Fuyumi had already been visiting with her husband and two boys, and while that should have made things feel chaotic, really, it just felt like a big family gathering. It was almost enough to make him forget that he hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours because terrorists had almost killed his son. 

After dinner, while his wife stayed with the adults to socialize and the kids were off doing whatever and hopefully not breaking anything, Denki took the chance to sneak out onto the porch where he could be alone and collect his thoughts. 

The garden at night was lovely, lit with the orange glow of traditional Japanese lanterns, the sound of evening cicadas thick in the air. It was humid, almost uncomfortably so, but anything was better than the claustrophobia of staying inside, pretending to smile and be happy when he knew, deep down, that all of this was his fault. 

His kids and in-laws would be safer here, he knew, but that also meant that Todoroki and Yaoyorozu and their family would be in more danger because they were sheltering them. The guilt he felt warred internally with his gratitude and did nothing to ease the anxious pressure constricting his chest. 

Somewhere out there, right now, his father was reacting to the news. Did he feel anything at all, knowing that he’d nearly killed his grandson? And what were his thoughts on Emiko saving him? Granted, the news hadn’t reported on her identity, and she hadn’t been caught on camera, but if whoever had set the blaze and had been in the area had seen her…

The door opened behind him, a second person joining him on the porch, and Denki turned, expecting to see his wife. 

Instead, he was surprised to find Todoroki stepping up beside him, leaning against the warm mahogany porch railing with his forearms, nursing a drink in his hands. 

The adult version of class darling Shouto Todoroki looked very little like his famous father. Where Endeavor had been a solid, swollen wall of muscle and rage, Shouto was leaner, more reserved. He still had his father’s broad shoulders and towering height, but while also muscular, his was more the body of a sprinter or a gymnast, not a brawler like his dad. This was probably because Shouto typically fought from a distance and rarely ever exchanged fists when dealing with violent criminals. 

Other than a more pronounced jawline, his features remained mostly the same as well. He’d tried going for facial hair once, but the way his heterochromatic hair made his mustache look had made him the laughing stock of their friend group, so he’d thankfully decided to forgo it. 

It was better that way, Denki thought, seizing him up out of the corner of his eye. Shouto’s selling point to his fans had always been his quiet, austere nature and coolness under pressure. That was better emphasized with a prettier face. 

That, and Momo didn’t like a lot of hair on her man, but Denki wasn’t supposed to know that. 

Denki and Todoroki had never been particularly close, but while he wouldn’t call the man his best friend, they still got along well enough. It helped that Kyouka and Yaoyoruzu spent so much time together, which naturally resulted in Denki and Todoroki spending more time together as well, thus improving their bond. Still, Denki hadn’t expected Todoroki to be the one to search him out. 

It... was a little awkward, if he were being honest. 

Finally, after several minutes of reserved silence, Todoroki began to speak. 

“I know this is out of the ordinary,” he began in that familiar quiet monotone he’d always had, “but I wanted to talk to you about your father.”

Denki sighed, straightening up and struggling to push down his annoyance. 

“Look, Todoroki - Everything I know, I already told the police. There really isn’t anything else for me to say.”

But Todoroki started shaking his head before Kaminari could even finish his sentence. 

“No, you misunderstand. I just meant… I know what it’s like to see your father as your enemy, that’s all.”

Denki stared, stunned speechless. 

Was Todoroki actually going out of his way to have a heart-to-heart with him? He normally only ever talked to Momo or Midoriya about things like this. 

Well, then again, this wasn’t Todoroki opening up about his problems - this was Todoroki trying to get someone else to open up about theirs. 

His friends. Always the Heroes. 

After a slight pause, Denki forced a chuckle, trying to sound as natural as possible. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. We kinda have a lot in common.”

Todoroki grunted, though whether that was an affirmative or a negative grunt, Denki couldn’t say. 

“But in a lot of ways,” his friend continued, “our situations are like mirror opposites.”

Denki shot Todoroki a questioning look, and he began to explain. 

“My father started out evil.” He paused, then shook his head. “No, that’s not quite right - but to me, it always felt that way. I have no memories from my childhood of him being anything but a monster. It wasn’t until I got older that I began to see that there was good inside of him, that there was a part of him, a part that was growing stronger every day, that regretted the man he’d been and was actively trying to make amends.”

Denki hadn’t learned the truth about Todoroki’s family until after the war with Shigaraki. How his father’s obsessive need to surpass All Might had led him down a path of neglect and abuse, both physical and emotional, so intense that he’d not only hospitalized his wife after a nervous breakdown but also ‘allegedly’ brought about the deaths of one of his children. 

How on earth a man could ever redeem himself from that kind of life, Denki didn’t know. And no one ever would. 

Endeavor lost his life in the line of duty, trying to save civilians from Shigaraki’s evil reign. His life was cut short before he could finish his transformation. And it was that that had hurt Todoroki more than anything; not just that he’d lost his father, but that he would never know if his father could have pulled off that seemingly impossible redemption he’d been working so hard for. 

“It was different for your father, wasn’t it?” Todoroki continued, jolting Denki out of his reverie. 

“Y-yeah…”

Yeah, his father had been different. The father Denki knew was kind, he loved to laugh, he doted on his kids with excessive zeal, and loved his wife so openly that it was an embarrassment whenever they were out in public. He wasn’t the smartest, the strongest, or the most talented - in fact, he tended to shrink back and leave major decision making up to his wife. But he was a man of passion, who lived his life with his heart on his sleeve. 

Even when Shigaraki had taken over the MLA, even when they were openly at war, he still did his best to support his wife and keep his family together. And in the end, that was the problem. 

He refused to see, or maybe couldn’t see, that his wife was wrong, that what they had gotten themselves into was wrong, and that the best way to actually protect his family would have been to have gotten them all out of there. Instead, he stood silently by, refusing to question as his wife led them all down the path that would bring about inevitable separation and destruction. 

But even at the end, even after what had happened in that last battle, Denki would have never suspected that his father had it in him to make an attempt on his grandchildren’s lives. Something, either a decade in prison or the weight of what had happened to his wife, had changed him. He was unrecognizable from the man Denki had grown up knowing and loving. 

And in that way, he supposed, his and Todoroki’s fathers shared another similarity and a difference. 

Both men had begun to change in ways their sons had never suspected they would be capable of. 

But where Todoroki had been forced to see his father’s arc cut short before completion, Denki was seeing his father’s in its fulfillment. And he didn’t like what he was seeing. 

“Did you…” Denki cleared his throat gruffly, turning away, staring up at the sky, almost entirely devoid of stars thanks to the light pollution from the surrounding city. “Did you love your father? There, at the end?”

All was quiet for a time. There was a slight breeze, rustling the leaves among the flower bushes and alleviating at least some of the summer humidity. 

Finally, Todoroki answered. 

“...Yes. Or, at least, I… wanted to. I wanted him to become the kind of man I could love. The kind I could be proud of.” After a moment, he turned to Denki. “And what about you? Do you still love your father, even after everything that’s happened?”

Denki wanted to say no. How could he? How could he possibly love a man who had tried to kill his son and daughter? Who’d tried to take away from him that one last pure, untarnished piece in his life?

But the fact of the matter was, without having seen him in years, it was difficult for Denki to merge the ideas of the escaped convict Renjiro Kaminari with the man he knew as his father. The man who used to let him stay up late so they could watch horror movies together on the couch. The man who would take him and Emi camping in the summer. Who’d taught him to swim. Who would dance with their mother in the kitchen in the evening when they thought no one was watching. 

Swallowing thickly, his voice choked with emotion, Denki answered. 

“I… I do…”

That man, Denki would always love. Just like his mother. Even if it was just the memory of who they had been and what they used to be. What they could still have been if things had been different. 

And it was that man Denki would stop at nothing to put back behind bars. Because as much as he loved him, he loved his children more. And he didn’t want his father’s name marred with any more stains than he’d already earned. 

Todoroki left him on the porch not long afterward. Sometime later, Kyouka came to get him, and they returned to their apartment, leaving their children with Denki’s in-laws in the Todoroki estate where they would (hopefully) be safe. 

The next morning, after giving his kids a call to check up on them, Denki stepped out into the street with a new resolution burning in his chest. 

He would put an end to this quickly. He would do whatever it takes. 

Barely five minutes after leaving, while passing a group of middle schoolers playing some game on their phones, he was joined by a familiar blonde. 

At first, they didn’t speak, merely walking together down the road. 

Finally, Emi asked, “...Your kid. Is he…?”

“He’s fine,” Denki replied tersely. “We got him to the hospital. He’s already been released.”

“Oh, good. I’m… I’m glad.”

And, strangely enough, she actually sounded it.

There was another pause as the estranged Kaminari siblings continued on down the road, pace out of sync, neither making eye contact. He still didn’t know if he could trust her. All signs had been pointing to her trying to lure him into a trap, but if so, why had she rushed into that burning building…?

It was Denki’s turn to break the silence. 

“You saved his life,” he said softly, just barely loud enough to hear. “Thank you. I owe you... more than I can say.”

Emi tried to smile, but it came out lopsided, only a corner of her mouth lifting up. Clearly, she wasn’t any more comfortable around him than he was around her. 

“Just consider it a lifetime’s worth of missed birthday presents from his aunt.”

She blinked as the word ‘aunt’ left her mouth, as though she hadn’t accepted her connection to the boy until she’d voiced it aloud, and Denki smiled in spite of himself at how nostalgic that look of bafflement on her face was. 

Together, they turned a corner, heading deeper into the city. 

Chapter Text

The next several weeks of Denki’s life were tense. 

On the surface, things appeared to be getting better. His sudden move towards being a more proactive member of the PLF was met with general praise and relief from his peers. Neighbors would call out to him again. Fellow criminals and would-be revolutionaries no longer complained about being sent out with him on missions. Even his family life seemed to have become easier. His father smiled more often and Emi seemed glad that her brother had apparently pulled himself out of his self-inforced reclusion. Only his relationship with his mother continued to be strained. 

However, beneath the surface, Denki’s anxieties had only grown. 

True, there was a part of him, a large part of him, that felt emboldened by his newfound sense of purpose. The decision to turn against Shigaraki and help his friends to end this stupid war was like a gust of wind blowing away the perpetual fog he’d been living under. He could see his path clearly again, and in setting out on that path, he felt more like ‘himself’ than he had in ages. 

The problem was, he had now placed his family in more danger than ever. If Shigaraki or the League, or any one of the PLF’s leaders, found out what he was doing, more than his life would be on the line. There was a better than decent chance - more of a certainty, really - that they’d all be killed, if only to set an example to others. 

Still, even with that guilt weighing him down, Denki couldn’t stop now. Yes, his family would die if he were caught. But the fact of the matter was, his mother’s injury had shown him in no uncertain terms that their safety was hardly ensured if he stayed put. 

And if the Heroes lost? If Shigaraki won and had his way with Japan? 

No one would be safe then. 

And so, Denki continued his clandestine information passing. It helped that his indecision over the past year had caused him to fall so low in the PLF leaders’ esteem. He was mostly overlooked, generally sent out on only the most basic of raids, and while that did mean that he wasn’t really privy to much of the truly juicy information that the Pros would probably need to know the most, it did mean that finding ways to sneak out during fights to pass info to Heroes was easier than it otherwise could have been. When times were as tough as they were, you learned to search for the silver-linings. 

This continued on for some time. While back with the PLF in between missions, Denki would play up his role as an enthusiastic ‘freedom fighter’. One of the few things he’d ever been good at was being friendly and getting others to lower their guard, so finding out intel from his fellow terrorists wound up not being too hard. Again, it was never anything truly impressive - he had no idea where Shigaraki spent his time, for example, or what his ultimate goals were, or where the other League members were hiding when they weren’t in or around Deika - but he would occasionally catch snippets about plans to attack particular Hero agencies or government buildings or hospitals or the like, and he would pass that information along to whatever Pro he managed to separate from the pack during the multitude of rudimentary skirmishes he was sent out on. 

But though he was glad that he was finally doing something potentially beneficial, there was also a part of him that was frustrated that he wasn’t doing more. There had to be something else he could do, right? He was on the inside, he could see and influence things here that the Pros simply couldn’t from the opposite side of the war. But without the trust or support of the Heroes… well, what was he supposed to do on his own?

It was about a month and a half after his run-in with Jirou, after finding his mother in the hospital and discovering his newfound resolve to do all he could to end this war, that Denki took his next step on the path that would lead to his eventual redemption and eternal damnation.

He was in a nighttime brawl, somewhere in an abandoned warehouse district near an old seaport in northeastern Akita. This was another of those ‘fake’ raids, the ones they were sent on just as a distraction, which meant that it was the perfect opportunity to corner another weak sidekick somewhere quiet and pass along more intel, if he could only create the opportunity. 

The problem was, the warehouse district was an absolute rat warren of a maze, with twisting, convoluted paths and nary a working light to be seen, and it didn't help that an eerie fog had blown in off of the sea. Denki had gotten himself lost in that maze, racing down between the cluster of empty cement buildings, their darkened windows gazing at him like hollowed eyes, the occasional vertically hung shutter left gaping open like hungry, moaning mouths. Denki had always had an overactive imagination, and being alone in the fog and the dark in the middle of a battlefield wasn’t helping things.

He’d raced this way following a scrawny looking man who he thought looked easy to take, only now he was lost and it was looking like tonight was going to end up being a bust. He slowed to a stop in front of an old cement ramp leading down into one of the warehouse buildings whose door was left ajar and found himself hesitantly peering down into the gloom, wondering if maybe the Hero had run in there to hide, when it happened.

A multitude of small, spherical shapes burst out of the darkness, flying towards him. 

Denki threw his arms up protectively over his face with a shout, but the balls didn’t hurt as they struck him. Instead, they stuck to his body, all over his chest and limbs and face, clinging like sticky burrs. 

Grimacing, he grabbed hold of one that had stuck to his cheek and pulled it off - or tried to, only to stop once it became apparent it wasn’t letting go and he was liable to rip the skin off of his cheek by mistake. It was only then that he noticed that his hand was now stuck to the ball as well, and his brain finally made the connection. 

Oh, shi-

Something struck him from behind, an all-consuming wall of sound that rattled his brain in his skull, cutting through his equilibrium, sending him staggering drunkenly to the side. The floor beneath his feet was unexpectedly slick, however, and after a couple of steps, he slipped and fell onto his back, sliding down the ramp and into the open doorway of the darkened warehouse like the world’s most terrifying water slide. 

Dizzy, confused, scared, Denki tried to push himself to his feet, but one hand was still stuck to his face and the act of rolling onto his side caused the other sticky balls to cement themselves to the ground, effectively trapping him in place. 

Sticky balls, a wall of sound, the slippery floor…

He’d been trapped. 

As though confirming his conclusion, a sudden loud rattling sound could be heard as the heavy metal door was pulled down, slamming shut behind him, cutting him off from the dim moonlight and plunging him into true darkness.

For a moment, alone in the dark, with the noise of the battle outside muted by thick cement walls, the only sound Denki could hear was his own frantic breathing and the sound of his heart thundering in his chest. 

A moment later, the sound of a rusty chain being tugged could be heard, and a dusty old lightbulb flickered to life. 

Slowly, Denki raised his head and found himself staring at Jirou. 

For a brief moment, all was still. She stared down at him, her expression impassive like a magistrate about to pass judgment, and Denki felt panic welling up inside of him. 

They’d caught him. He’d be going to jail now. But he couldn’t - not yet, at least. He deserved it, he knew, but he’d only just finally started to do his part to help. Who would look after his parents and sister if he was gone? Who would pass information to the Heroes? Had they even received his messages? What if they hadn’t? What if they had, but decided he couldn’t be trusted? What if it had all been for nothing?

Before he could open his mouth, before he could say anything in his defense, Jirou’s austere expression finally broke. He had to blink several times before his brain could adjust to the fact that yes, she was in fact smiling. At him. 

And she seemed genuinely happy to see him. 

“Your face looks so stupid right now,” she said, snickering to herself. “Hey - Mineta. Hurry up and get your balls off of him.”

What?

“Can you not phrase it that way?” came a familiar voice from somewhere behind him. “I don’t like the idea of my balls touching other dudes.”

The familiarly crass comment was followed by the sound of a loud smack and another familiar feminine voice saying, “Seriously, Mineta? Do you really have to be gross right now?”

This was followed by a laugh from a third person, and an affectionate, “Wow. This almost feels like old times.”

Seconds later, the miniature body of Denki’s most perverted friend waddled into view, withdrawing a small spray bottle from his diaper-like waistband (seriously, why was his costume designed this way?), flashing Denki a smug smirk before he began spraying the sticky balls with solvent. 

“It’s only right that the first time I see you in a year, you should be on the ground, groveling before me,” Mineta joked, focusing on the ball stuck to Denki’s cheek first before turning his attention to the ones keeping him stuck to the ground. 

Denki was speechless. They were… letting him up? After capturing him? Why?

As the ball melted off of Denki’s face and hand, he heard Sero’s voice from over his shoulder. 

“Hey, we should probably keep a few balls stuck to him. We need it to look like he was in a fight for when he goes back to his gang.”

Goes back? They were letting him go back?

Someone snorted. 

“If that’s all we need, I can blast the bastard through a wall or two once we’re done here.”

Bakugou was here too?! How many of them were there? 

He turned his head, trying to crane his neck far enough to see the shadowy area behind him, but wherever his old friends were standing, it was just out of sight. 

Finally, Mineta had sprayed enough of his specialty solvent that Denki was able to detach himself from the ground, and he pushed himself hastily to his feet, retreating away from the others by a few paces so he could collect himself and gather his bearings. 

They were here. His friends. They were actually in front of him, in person, and not trying to kill him. 

He must have hit his head when he fell down that ramp, right? This had to be a dream. 

They weren’t all there, of course. Having all of Class 1-A in the warehouse would have been absurd, but there were still more people in here than Denki would have believed. 

Jirou was standing alone beneath the solitary light bulb, arms still crossed, her expression blank and her eyes firmly on him. 

Mineta was still at his side, dutifully spraying the sticky balls and mumbling something no-doubt perverted under his breath. 

Across from Denki, situated near a pile of moldering crates, stood the rest of them. Mina, her omnipresent grin for once absent, replaced by an awkward half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Sero, arms akimbo, looking at Denki like he was a stray dog that may or may not be rabid. Kirishima, scratching at the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. And Bakugou, who alone seemed the same as ever - that furious scowl on his face was about as normal as normal could get. 

Nobody spoke. Nobody seemed willing to be the one to make the initial overture, to try to bridge the distance that stretched between them, the chasm of mistrust that Denki had created. 

He couldn’t blame them. They should hate him. They should be furious. He’d betrayed them, led the villains into the school, helped start this war. He was the reason UA was destroyed. He was the reason All Might was dead. It was all his fault. 

He was grateful for the darkness within the semi-lit warehouse. They wouldn’t be able to see the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. 

Finally, after an eternity of awkward silence, Kirishima took a half-step forward. 

“Uh… Hey, Kaminari. Long time, man.”

Denki swallowed, but couldn’t find the words to respond. Long time? How could you sum up an eternity in such simple words?

After another uncomfortable wait, it was Mina’s turn to try. 

“We brought you a message from Sato,” she said, trying valiantly to drum up some of her old contagious optimism and failing epically. “He… He wanted us to thank you. One of those warnings you sent out probably saved his life.”

The shock of that statement managed to unstick Denki’s throat. 

“He… What? What do you mean?”

“He was the sidekick of one of the Pros whose offices the League was targeting, but the Pro had been badly injured the day before and was in the hospital, so only Sato and a handful of sidekicks were there. Thanks to your warning, we were able to get Todoroki and Tokoyami there in time to help out. Sato wouldn’t have been able to fight off Dabi on his own.”

Denki could only stare, numb. They had been getting his messages? And were responding to them? Trusting that he wasn’t tricking them? And he’d actually been able to help one of his friends? There was a point to all of this after all?

He tried to force a laugh, vying for something natural-sounding, but it came out as more of a hoarse grunt. 

“You… You’ve been getting my messages, then?”

“We ignored them at first,” Mineta supplied, finally stepping away from Denki and rejoining his classmates. “The Pros didn’t know who they were coming from and thought they were a trap. But when Iida heard they were coming from someone called ‘Jamming Whey’, he thought that was too stupid to be a lie, and he spread the word to the rest of us.”

“We still ignored them, though,” Mina said. “We just… We didn’t think we could trust you, until…”

“Till Jirou told us that she’d seen you,” Sero said, taking the explanation up. “The dumb name, your encounter, and the fact that one of the targets was potentially Sato… we decided to take a chance, even though the Pros told us no. And it’s a good thing we did.”

There was some sort of emotion buzzing around in Denki’s chest, but it was too erratic and confusing to identify. They’d taken a chance on him… They’d trusted him, if only for a moment…

“W-why are you here now?”

In his confusion, Denki jumped ahead in the conversation, and all of the goodwill that had been established by discussing Sato’s survival evaporated almost immediately. The awkward silence returned, the tension returning to his classmates’ shoulders as the unavoidable truth that one singular good deed could not erase the ill that he had done hung over them all like that singular dusty lightbulb. 

Surprisingly, it was Bakugou, with a familiar, derisive snort, who broke the silence this time.

“So why the sudden change of heart? Ears told us all about your family, but that doesn’t explain why you’re suddenly so keen on helping out.”

It was only then that Denki realized that Jirou wasn’t talking. She hadn’t said a word after the initial greeting. She was standing behind him, her arms folded under her breasts, a solemn look on her face. 

She wasn’t going to speak for him. She was giving him the chance to speak for himself, to make his case in his own words. He had no idea what she hoped to achieve here, or what he could possibly do in this situation to convince his friends that he was on their side… but she was giving him a chance anyway. 

“After I met with Jirou again, I went back home and… found out that my mom had nearly died in a fight against some Pros.”

Mina clapped her hands to her mouth, and Kirishima looked sick, but nobody said anything to interrupt him, so he pressed on. 

“I thought that, maybe, that was finally my chance to convince them to step away from the PLF. Now that she could see how dangerous it was, maybe… Maybe I could finally take them away from there. But my mom… She’s one-hundred percent devoted to the cause she’s fighting for. She won’t back down for anything. And it was then that I finally realized that going along with Shigaraki wasn’t going to keep my family safe if they got themselves killed fighting in his stupid war. The only way I can protect them is if I help the Pros finally bring him down. And the faster that happens, the better.”

“So that’s when you decided to start passing us information,” Sero supplied, and Denki nodded. 

“It’s the most I can do. If I openly switch sides, even if the Pros accepted me, Shigaraki might just kill my family out of spite. Besides, there has to be something more I can do from the inside, right?”

He tried to hide the note of desperation in his voice there at the last but wasn’t quite sure that he’d managed it. 

“How much do you know about Shigaraki?” Kirishima asked, and Denki winced. He’d hoped they weren’t going to ask him that. He was supposed to be making himself look useful. 

“Honestly… Not a lot. He really only interacts with the League. The PLF is just a big, disposable army to him. I haven’t even seen him in months.”

“Do you know where his hideout is? Or… hideouts?” Mina asked. 

Denki shook his head. 

“He moves around a lot. All of the League and PLF leaders do. They’ve got various hideouts all over the country, but I don’t know where any are, except for the one near Deika.”

“How often does he show up there?” Bakugou cut in, and Denki frowned, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Uh… It’s hard to say. Not very often. Maybe once every other month or so? It depends on where he’s focusing his attention, I suppose.”

“Here,” and Bakugou stepped forward, pulling out his phone from his pocket and removing its protective case (which he probably desperately needed, considering how violent his fights tended to be), “I’ve got a map of Deika. Do you know roughly where the hideout is?”

“Sure…” Denki said slowly, taking the device and moving the map around with his fingers. Something about using a cellphone to fight evil felt weird. “It’s… right around here, just south of Lake Deika.”

Bakugou took the phone back and scowled down at it as if it had just proclaimed Deku as the Number One Hero. Kirishima came to look over his shoulder. 

“What’s that building just up there? Like a mile to the northeast?”

“Looks like a hydroelectric dam…”

“Is there any way you could get a message out the next time Shigaraki shows up at the hideout?” Mina chimed in, continuing the previous conversation. 

“I can try, but… With Skeptic around, getting any kind of electronic message or radiofrequency out could be really difficult.”

“There’s other ways to send messages,” Mineta said, as though pointing out the obvious, and Sero rolled his eyes. 

“Sure, man, but sending a letter in the mail or a smoke signal into the sky isn’t exactly going to help much, are they?”

“Kouda,” Jirou said, finally breaking her silence. “We can use a carrier pigeon. Nobody would think it was weird to see a pigeon flying through a city. So long as Kaminari can get the message to the pigeon without being seen, that should work. It’d be slower than an electronic message, but it’s probably the safest option.”

Safest? Maybe. It also seemed incredibly conspicuous. Denki had never really had a thing for animals, so if anyone saw him suddenly hanging out with birds, they’d probably begin to ask questions. And it wasn’t hard to connect the dots between him and his old classmate from UA who could talk to animals. Class 1-A’s Quirks weren’t exactly secrets, after all. 

Then again… Here they were, his old friends, people he thought he’d never get to have a civil conversation with ever again. Standing around him. Planning with him. Trusting him enough to handle this important task. Giving him the chance to really help. Suddenly, the danger didn’t seem to matter so much. Not as long as he got to be part of the group again. 

He’d missed them all so much. Just having them here around him made him feel like this empty space in his chest had been filled back in again. 

An explosion rocked the building, raining dust down on top of them. Right, there was a fight going on outside… they couldn’t hide in here forever. If he was seen talking with his friends by anyone from the PLF, it was all over. 

“Stay in here till it’s over,” Bakugou said, stashing his phone back in his pocket and readying himself to rejoin the fray. “You can head back after the fight is done, tell ‘em you were knocked out or whatever. Grape freak, put more of your balls on him-”

“Seriously, it’s not funny when we’re talking about doing it to a dude-”

“-and then be on the lookout for birds. We’ll try to get him to send some pigeons or whatever, so if Shigaraki ever shows his face, make sure you let us know, pronto. And I know you’re an idiot, but don’t get caught.”

And on that sanctimonious note, Bakugou stooped down to grasp the bottom of the rusty door with both hands, ready to pull it open and rejoin the fray outside as though nothing had transpired. 

Despite his better judgment, Denki stepped forward. 

“W-wait! Why… Why are you trusting me?”

That’s not what he’d meant to say. Not all of it, at least. He meant to ask how Bakugou could ever put even a modicum of faith in him when he’d already betrayed them. When he was responsible, at least in part, for the death of All Might, Bakugou’s idol. How could any of his classmates even bring themselves to look him in the eye?

Bakugou hesitated, and for a moment, Denki thought he’d managed to piss him off again. 

Then, after a moment, the hot-headed teen said softly, “Because All Might would have given you another chance. And because, damn it, we need all the help we can get.”

And with that, Bakugou threw the door open with a thunderous rattle vanished back into the fog. 

The others followed quickly, Mineta waving, Sero with an actual smile, Mina squeezing his arm, Kirishima muttering something about ‘being manly’ under his breath, and just as suddenly, Denki was alone. 

Except for Jirou, who turned off the light before stepping closer to Denki. 

“Take this,” she said, pressing something small into the palm of his hand. It looked like an earpiece, the kind Pros used to communicate on the battlefield. “It’s a long-range transceiver. Skeptic will probably know the instant you use it, but just in case. Call me if there’s an emergency.”

Denki’s fingers closed around the small electronic device, gripping it like it was a lifeline. 

“O-oh. Alright. I will.” There was another awkward pause, the umpteenth one he’d experienced over the course of the last ten minutes, and then Denki found his mouth opening again, words bubbling out of his throat of their own volition, desperate to delay the moment that Jirou left and he would be alone again. 

“J-Jirou, about last time, I-”

He cut off with a sharp intake of breath as Jirou’s arms encircled his waist, her jacks gently wrapping around his neck as she briefly rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I knew you’d make the right choice,” she whispered. 

Denki’s arms lifted slowly, his fingertips brushing the sides of her hips, wanting desperately to return the embrace, to pull her in close and never let her go again, but he couldn’t quite work up the nerve. He didn’t feel like he deserved it. Not yet. 

A moment later, she pulled away, stepping back towards the open doorway. 

“Stay safe, Denki.”

And then she was gone, and Denki was alone once more. 

The bright August sunshine was going to be the death of him.

After a long day of wandering up and down the city streets with his estranged, actually not dead, maybe homicidal terrorist who had saved his son from a burning building and award winner of easily the most complicated personal relationship he’d ever had in his life of a sister, Denki was beat. He was currently sitting sprawled in a patio chair beneath an umbrella outside of a quaint family-owned restaurant, nursing his second ice-cold beverage in his hand, lamenting the swollen throbbing in his feet and desperately trying not to die of heatstroke.

He hadn’t gone to see his kids yesterday. He felt awful about it, both because he knew they were scared and confused after the attack but also because he didn’t like that he was essentially pushing them off on their grandparents who had just lost their house in a fire. 

He’d just been so tired. He’d stayed out so late, wandering the streets even after Emi had left for the day, desperate to find something. Even the thought of taking a break filled him with inexorable anxiety. His family wouldn’t be safe until he found his father and took him down. 

Emi was seated across the table from him, somehow managing to sit cross-legged on her tiny chair. She’d opted for a full meal rather than just drinks, largely because Denki had offered to pay. That was another trait of hers that hadn’t changed even after all these years; willingly taking advantage of him without even a trace of guilt. It was annoying. And… oddly nostalgic. 

They’d been quiet for several minutes now. An odd combination of them still not really knowing how to interact with one another even after having spent multiple days together on the prowl and also just general exhaustion. Still, just as always, his little sister was ready and willing to ruin Denki’s peace of mind, which she did by breaking their unspoken vow of mutual silence and starting a conversation, apropos of nothing.

“Tell me about them.”

Denki blinked, turning his gaze away from the ribbed underside of the umbrella and facing his sister as though not certain she’d actually spoken or if the heat was making him hallucinate. 

“Huh? Tell you about who?”

“Who else? Tell me about your kids.”

Something uncomfortable wormed around in Denki’s gut. For some reason, telling Emi about his kids felt… dangerous. He wanted to keep his old family and his new family from coming into any further contact with one another than was strictly necessary. Not that him telling her random factoids about his kids constituted them making contact, but…

Emi was watching him, her expression blank, and he realized he’d been quiet for too long. 

“Why do you want to know?” he said instead, sitting up and grimacing as his sweat-soaked shirt made contact with the back of the plastic chair. 

He regretted how cautious he sounded when she snorted and rolled her eyes in that way that had always annoyed him so much.

“I pulled that kid out of a burning building. I think I at least deserve to know what his name is.”

Well, she had a point there. Still… she didn’t know his name?

“What, are you telling me you haven’t even bothered to look your brother up online in all these years? Forget their names; I’m pretty sure some of Kyouka’s fan sites have gone so far as to have our kids’ blood types put down.”

Emi made a disturbed face, demonstrating once again to Denki that sometimes, fans could be creepier than villains. 

“Ew. Who does that? And are you saying you endorse strangers looking up your kids on the internet?”

How was it that she always managed to turn these things around on him? 

Finally, after mulling it over for another moment and deciding there was really no harm in it, he relented. 

“The boy you saved is named Raidin, but we call him Rai. He’s four. His older sister is Aika. She’s seven, but she turns eight in just a couple days.”

“Raidin,” Emi murmured as though tasting the name. “Aika… She looks just like her mom.”

“Thankfully,” Denki confirmed. 

“Same ears and everything,” Emi went on, taking another sip of her drink. “Same Quirk too, I’m guessing?”

“Not exactly.” When he caught her staring at him as though expecting more, he sighed and went on. “It’s not sound-based, like her mother. She can plug the jacks on her ears into different electrical devices and manipulate them.”

Emi’s eyebrows rose. 

“Like… anything?”

“Anything powered by electricity.”

“I’m guessing it needs a port to match her jacks?”

“No. As long as they can fit inside, she can connect with it. Audio ports fit best, but anything she can fit the jack into will work. She just needs to be able to pump the low-level electricity she generates into the machine and establish a connection with whatever computer parts control it.”

He never knew how to explain it better than that. Computers weren't his forte.

“Wow,” Emi said, looking impressed. “That sounds… villainous. She could rob ATMs for days.”

Denki sent his sister a warning look, as though she were somehow influencing his daughter down the path of villainy from a distance, and Emi rolled her eyes. 

“Seriously, chill. It was just an observation. Over-protective dad much? Anyway, tell me about your boy. What’s his Quirk like?”

“Rai,” Denki said, emphasizing his name and ignoring the fact that he suddenly cared that she knew it when a minute ago he was against the idea, “can create powerful sound waves by clapping his hands.”

Here, Emi winced sympathetically. 

“Oof. And he’s four? I’m guessing you’ve had to pay out a lot in repairs since his Quirk manifested.”

Denki shook off the sudden wave of PTSD flashbacks of shattered windows and destroyed appliances. 

“You have no idea…”

“I might,” she replied, smirking to herself. “You’re not the only one with experience taking care of a kid whose Quirk is more powerful than he knows how to handle.”

Denki blinked, then turned to stare at his sister in surprise. 

“Wait… Emiko, do you have a kid you haven’t told me about?’

She snorted in her drink, having to wipe at her face as the beverage dribbled down her chin. 

“Ha… no. No kids for me, thank you. But,” she relented after a moment, “there is this… boy… who I’ve sort of been looking after for a while. He was orphaned after… well…”

After the war with Shigaraki. The same one that had taken their mother away from them. 

If there was one conversation these estranged siblings needed to steer clear from, it was that one. He wasn’t ready to face it yet. Not now. Maybe not ever. Especially not in public. 

Thankfully, the siblings were spared the potential fight they’d nearly accidentally wandered into by the arrival of an unexpected guest. 

“Hey! I know you!”

Both Kaminari siblings turned in tandem to stare up at the younger woman who had just stopped in front of their table, arms akimbo. He didn’t need the feathers in her hair nor the axes strapped to her hips to tell him who she was; her ear-to-ear grin was enough to confirm her identity. 

“Tomahawk,” Denki said, surprised. “Look at you! We just keep bumping into each other, don’t we?”

“Ha, yeah we do!” she agreed loudly, seemingly basking under both the hot August sunshine as well as the interested looks she was getting from other civilians on the street. “If this isn’t destiny, I don’t know what is. What’s up? Who’s your friend?”

Not for the first time, Denki found himself thinking that this woman had entirely too much energy for her own good. She was kind of like Mina in that way. Particularly in how she butted her way into other people’s conversations seemingly without noticing. 

“I,” Emi said, suddenly standing up, “have to go to the restroom.”

“Oh, uh-”

But before Tomahawk could say anything else, Emi had vanished back into the restaurant. 

The young Pro let her hand slowly fall, casting Denki a worried look. 

“Did I say something wrong…?”

Denki flashed her his most charming smile. 

“No, don’t worry. She just has the world’s smallest bladder.” That, and she was a wanted criminal who was terrified of associating with Heroes, even though Denki had already told her no one knew who she was (and those who did wouldn’t arrest her yet because they were using her). But Tomahawk didn’t need to know all that. “So what brings you by? Did you need something?”

Wait, did Tomahawk know about Emi? She said she was one of Yaoyorozu’s sidekicks… Had Momo said something, and had Tomahawk butted in because she recognized her?

“Oh, I’m just out on patrol. You know how it is. But, um, actually…”

Suddenly, the Pro looked unsure, which made her look five years younger than she actually was.

Denki frowned. 

“What’s up? Something wrong?”

“N-no! Not exactly! I just meant… I wanted to apologize. Y’know. For the other evening. And also for how awkward I was in the elevator. You must have thought I was a total spaz.”

He shook his head, smiling politely. 

“No, it’s fine. Besides, Gizmo more or less explained it to me. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Only the moment he said ‘Gizmo’, Tomahawk’s expression went from politely apologetic to borderline apoplectic. 

“You… You talked to Gizmo? About me?”

“Uh…” Denki said slowly, suddenly not sure where this conversation was going. “Not exactly? More like you came up in the conversation. He brought up what happened the other night, then mentioned that you and him were old friends, and sort of told me a little about you and how much you look up to Kyouka-”

Tomahawk sighed, suddenly collapsing pathetically into Emi’s now-empty seat. 

“...I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, and Denki shrugged, setting his drink down on the table. 

“It’s fine. People make mistakes. I understand that better than most.”

“No, not that - I mean, yes, I’m sorry about attacking you by accident too, but… I meant I’m sorry that Gizmo told you. It must have been… awkward… hearing that.”

Denki shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Um… what are we talking about?”

Now it was Tomahawk’s turn to look uncomfortable. 

“About… what Gizmo told you? I mean, about Jirou being my favorite Hero… Wait, didn’t he tell you why?”

“Uh… no?”

Tell him why? There was a ‘why’? What, was there like a whole backstory? Most people didn’t have ‘backstories’ for why their favorite Pro was their favorite Pro. Unless, like, Jirou had rescued her from a villain once or something. That’s usually how it went. But why on earth would that be awkward for him?

Only now Tomahawks’ cheeks were blazing scarlet and she looked like she wanted to melt through her chair down onto the hot concrete and die. 

“Oh, that’s just…! Aaaagh! Me and my big mouth…!”

Denki picked his drink back up for no other reason than to do something with his hands. 

“You, uh… You don’t really have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s… it’s fine.”

Besides, he was supposed to be being bait with (or for?) Emi, he didn’t have time to hang with a Pro. 

“No,” Tomahawk relented after a moment, sitting up straight and putting on a brave face. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough as it is; I may as well just tell you to… dispel the awkwardness.” 

Yeah, good luck with that.

“Just promise me you won’t tell her?”

He shrugged in an affirmative way, which she apparently understood because she took a deep breath and steadied herself. 

“I… was raised by a single father.”

For a moment, Denki thought that was the entire story, which would have been incredibly confusing because that had nothing at all to do with Jirou whatsoever, but apparently, Tomahawk had only paused for dramatic effect, because a moment later she kept going. 

“Dad, he… Well, he used to be a villain. N-not, like, a big-name villain, like he wasn’t with the League or the PLF or anything like that. But he has a handful of assaults and B-and-E’s on his record, and shortly after he got my mom pregnant, he got arrested for an attempted robbery that went south and left him fighting against Pros in the street. The whole thing got caught on TV. He went to jail for three years.

“When he learned about my birth while he was in prison, something… changed in him. I guess the realization that his life choices had forced him to miss the birth of his daughter, as well as her first words and her first steps and all of that… well, it was too much for him. So when he got out, he vowed to track me and mom down and do his best to live as a reformed member of society. Y’know, be the dad he hadn’t been able to be before.”

She paused again, and Denki turned his eyes away from the street for a moment to glance at her. She was slumped in her chair, her legs spread, her hands gripping the seat in between her knees. Her eyes had that distant sort of look that indicated she was seeing something far away that no one else could see. 

“He found us, and my mom… Well, I guess she didn’t want anything to do with a villain like him. But that also meant she didn’t want anything to do with me because I was his daughter. So when he showed up, she pretended to welcome him back… and then the next morning, when he woke up, she was gone... but she’d left me behind.”

Something unpleasant twisted in Denki’s navel. If he’d come back after everything he’d done and Kyouka had left him… he honestly couldn’t even fathom how his life would have turned out. 

“Dad tried his best to take care of me,” the young Pro continued, her voice taking on a soft, hesitant tone. “But it was hard… When you have a history of violent crime hanging over your head, finding steady employment or housing is, well… Sorry, I don’t need to explain that to you. But dad, he never gave up. He worked as many jobs as he could; low-paying, long hours, filthy and sometimes dangerous work, anything he could to make sure that I was fed and clothed and had a roof over my head. I always had second-hand clothes and kids would make fun of me when they found out about my dad, but to me… My dad meant everything.”

She paused for a moment to take a sip from a bottle of water she was carrying in one of her pockets. By this point, Denki had forgotten all about Emi and the job he was supposed to be doing. 

“I used to hate Pros and the police,” she continued after replacing her water bottle. Her eyes were narrowed and harsh now, but still staring into nothing. “Whenever I’d see them walking down the street near where we lived, all I could think about was how unfair it was that no one wanted to give him a chance. Why couldn’t people see him the way I did? Why did they all have to stare at him with so much distrust and suspicion? My friends at school all loved Heroes - Deku, Shouto, Creati, all of the up-and-coming Heroes who defeated the League and saved Japan, but me? I wanted nothing to do with them.”

“So what changed?” Denki said, surprising himself by speaking up, and Tomahawk smiled. 

“You did.”

Denki blinked, taken aback, and Tomahawk pressed on.

“I hated Heroes… but I liked Earphone Jack. Or, well, I liked her music, I guess. That didn’t really have anything to do with her Hero work, and when I sang along to her songs with my friends, I didn’t feel like that poor outcast kid anymore, y’know? I felt like everyone else. 

“And then one day, I saw an interview with her on TV and that was the day that I learned that she, a Pro Hero and internationally famous musician, had married an ex-con and didn’t care at all who knew. She was… proud of you. And I just… I couldn’t believe it. I thought, ‘Now there’s a Pro who might actually give my dad a chance’. Someone who could understand how I felt about my dad. A Pro I could actually look up to. And I wanted to be just like her.”

She paused for a moment to wipe absently at her eyes before letting out a self-deprecating chuckle and saying, “And then I finally get the chance to work in the same building, and what do I do? Attack her husband by mistake. Fail to recognize him in the elevator. Embarrass myself in front of him with this sappy story… Ugh, you probably think I’m a crazy person.”

“Yes,” Denki said, smiling softly. “I also think your dad is really lucky to have a daughter like you.”

She lifted her head, her eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, and Denki had to stop himself from laughing. 

“Here, why don’t we even the sides a little bit? You told me something personal and sappy. Let me do the same.”

He took a sip from his drink again as though to steady himself. 

“You met my kids in the elevator the other day over at Heights Alliance. But the truth is… even with everything going on right now, I… I still haven’t told them about my past. I’m… scared, I guess. They’ve spent their whole lives around Heroes, and I’m terrified that when they find out I’m a villain, they won’t ever look at me the same anymore.”

Tomahawk smiled sympathetically. 

“Yeah, I can see why that would be scary… But, coming from the daughter of a man with a checkered past, it’s definitely better to hear it directly from you. If they hear it first from someone else… well, that would be a lot harder, I think.”

Denki nodded. That was certainly true, and with the way his father had been decorating the news recently… to say nothing of the attack they’d experienced… honestly, it was absurd that they hadn’t found out already. He just kept finding convenient excuses to put it off… 

Well. Two days from now was Aika’s birthday. That would be… a very bad day to tell her. But the day after, that was when he needed to stop balking and just do it. Kyouka was right; he loved his kids, and they loved him, and it would all be ok. Everything would turn out ok. 

Speaking of Kyouka…

“Y’know,” he said to Tomahawk, taking another swig of his drink and vying for a lighter tone, “my kids and in-laws are staying over at Yaoyorozu’s place. If you get yourself invited over to dinner one day, I can make sure Kyouka’s there. How would you like that?”

Normally, he’d never offer up a meet-and-greet with his famous wife, but Tomahawk was a good kid (er… adult), and he didn’t think Kyouka would mind in this case. 

Tomahawk’s face went beet red again. 

“Oh! No! No no no, please, don’t - I mean, I would love to, but…”

Her mouth continued working even after her words stopped as though she couldn’t quite form what it was she was trying to say, and Denki laughed. 

“Relax, I was just teasing you. I mean I’m sure she’d love to have dinner with you, but I’m not going to force it or anything.”

“Oh… I don’t know about that,” Tomahawk mumbled. “I just keep embarrassing myself in front of her… I need to redeem myself first before that. The last time she saw me was after I attacked you by mistake.”

Oh, true. Well. Kyouka would be over that just as soon as Denki’s dad was back behind bars and the PLF returned to being a bad memory. If Denki did his job, Tomahawk wouldn’t have to wait long. 

The young Pro left not long after, returning to her patrol, and almost as soon as she did, Emiko reclaimed her seat. 

“Well that took forever,” she grumped, picking at her plate with her chopsticks. “Who was that, anyway? Does your wife know you’re meeting pretty young Heroes in secret?”

“I’d think my wife would be more concerned about me meeting you in secret, if we’re being honest,” Denki replied, rising to his feet. “Come on, there’s still a few hours of daylight left. Let’s get to stepping.”

“What? But I just sat down!”

Denki snorted. “So? I’m not the one who ran to hide in the bathroom because a Hero showed up to say hello. This one’s on you.”

“Listen,” Emi said after cleaning up her trash, “I have a perfectly valid reason to be avoiding Pros, no matter what you say. And it certainly looked like the two of you were saying a lot more than ‘Hello’. How do I know you weren’t telling her about me?”

“Emi, if I was going to turn you in, I’dve told my wife about you the second you chased me down in that alleyway.” To be fair, that’s exactly what he had done, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “And me and Tomahawk were just talking about Kyouka and the kids, that’s all. She’s Kyouka’s self-proclaimed biggest fan.”

“I see,” Emi said, chewing her lip. “That’s weird. Pros being fans of Pros. You invite her to your daughter’s birthday party then? I notice you didn’t invite her only aunt. Unless Earphone Jack has a sister that I don’t know about.”

“Hey, you remembered! And no, that would be weird. Though her birthday party is always a star-filled event anyway, considering how many Pros we know. Something tells me you wouldn’t want to come.”

“Not that you’d ever invite me, right?”

“You’re talking about this a lot. Don’t tell me you actually want me to invite you?”

That was a disconcerting thought. The idea of introducing Emi to the family, particularly under these conditions, was about the worst idea imaginable. 

Emi grimaced. “Uh, no, not at all. No offense or anything, but like… That sounds awful.”

Denki nodded, choosing not to respond to that and let that particular subject die. 

However, he couldn’t ignore the fact that there was a small part of him that… kind of wished she could be there. That wished that she had always been invited, that she’d always been a part of Aika and Rai’s life. 

But those were dreams that would never be. Even if Emi wasn’t actually after them, even if her saving Rai had been purely out of the goodness of her heart, she’d never be a part of his family again. He’d made sure of that. 

And though not a day went by that he didn’t regret it, that was just the way things were now. 

And he’d have to learn to live with it. 

Chapter Text

The day before Aika’s birthday found Denki walking down the street hand-in-hand with his kids, making inane conversation with his Pro-Hero bodyguard of the day, Kirishima. 

It was late morning, somewhere around ten o’clock, but it was already another scorcher. The sun sat high overhead, not even reaching its apex, yet the sweltering air felt like a sauna. The sunlight reflected blindingly off of passing cars and the windows of the towering buildings around him, making Denki jealous of the large sunglasses his friend had worn in an attempt to disguise himself. 

Today was Kirishima’s day off. He’d meant to spend it relaxing, he’d told Denki, but when Denki found himself faced with the prospect of taking his kids back to their apartment briefly so they could gather up what they’d need for their extended stay with the Todoroki’s, he’d figured he’d lend his friend a hand. It was, after all, the ‘manly’ thing to do. 

Unfortunately, his friend was also the worst in their old class at disguising himself. He was even worse than Tokoyami or Shoji, and Denki hadn't even thought that was possible. He was wearing a pair of overly-large white sunglasses, a tacky golden chain, a bright pink Hawaiian print T-shirt, and a pair of baggy cargo shorts. 

In essence, he looked just like a Western tourist - which of course meant that instead of blending in, he stuck out like a sore thumb, which had the exact opposite effect of what he was going for. People's eyes naturally gravitated towards him on the street, which meant he was recognized more often than he probably would have been had he not tried to disguise himself at all, which greatly slowed the group's progress towards Denki's apartment when they kept having to stop to sign autographs or take pictures.

As it turned out, Kyouka’s attempt to pack for her children had been something of a pointless endeavor. Despite stereotypes indicating that mothers always know their children best, Kyouka’s hectic work life had kept her from her kids enough that she was often forgetful of even the most basic of their needs. Oh, she remembered to pack clothes and their toothbrushes and the like - but she’d mostly grabbed old, ill-fitting clothes, or shoes they hadn’t worn in years but had been kept in their closet for who knows what reason. There was also the issue of Aika’s summer homework, most of which remained scattered about her bedroom, and Rai wanting to have his toys and video game console to give him something to distract him so that he didn’t annoy his grandparents to death. And so, here they were, making the trek back to the apartment so they could gather up what they needed. 

Still. As necessary as it was to have them along so they could even find the things they needed (hey, Denki had tried to search himself, but his kids’ rooms were absolute pigsties. He… hadn’t been as on top of them about cleanliness in the aftermath of his father’s prison break as he maybe should have been), Denki was still concerned about making this trip. Taking his kids back out into public only seemed to be inviting disaster. Even with Kirishima there with him, there was an underlying level of tension that was keeping Denki twitchy and on his toes. 

Thankfully, Kirishima was particularly adept at raising people’s spirits. His infectious optimism and can-do attitude was the perfect way to distract Denki’s kids from their father’s practically palpable anxiety, and so far, the walk back to the apartment had been a light-hearted and otherwise uneventful stroll through the blistering morning sunshine. 

As the group paused at a stoplight, Denki had actually allowed himself to relax a bit, starting to believe that nothing was going to go wrong after all and he was just being paranoid. 

And just as he was thinking that, the crowd in front of him parted and he caught a glimpse of a very familiar earthworm-looking man crossing the street about fifteen meters ahead of him. 

Denki’s entire body went rigid. 

He knew that man. He was one of the two who had attacked him at that convenience store, the one who had escaped because Tomahawk had attacked him by mistake. 

A member of the PLF was right there, right in front of him… and he didn’t seem to know that Denki was there. 

His first instinct was to chase after him, but he was able to take ahold of himself before he let his selfish desires rule his actions. 

Catching that man might be their ticket to finding his father. They couldn’t let them get away. However, Denki was also with his kids. He couldn’t very well start a brawl on the street with them standing right there. Plus, there was the whole ‘he wasn’t actually a licensed Hero’ thing to contend with. But the longer he deliberated, the further and further that rogue PLF member was getting.

And in Denki's warped perception, it was like watching his father slowly escaping justice. 

“Dad?” Rai asked, realizing that his father had stopped moving altogether.

When he didn't respond, Kirishima turned to glance at his friend and, upon noticing the expression on his face, went still. 

“What’s up?”

Denki licked his lips, uncertain how to explain this to Kirishima without causing his kids to panic. 

“Up there, across the street,” he said softly. “Do you see the guy whose head kind of looks like an earthworm?”

Kirishima turned, cupping his hand over his eyes to shade them from the sunlight (which was dumb, because he was wearing sunglasses). Aika and Rai both turned to look as well, with Rai hopping in place because he was too short to see that far, particularly with the streets as crowded as they were. 

“...Yeah, I do. Is he…?”

“From the convenience store the other night,” Denki confirmed. 

“You sure?”

“Without a doubt.”

Kirishima turned back to stare at the distant criminal, scowling as every step took him further and further away. 

Finally, he cursed. 

“Damn it… Kaminari, I can get him - but I’d have to leave you alone, and I don’t think-”

“Do it,” Denki cut in, trying not to let his anxiety show. “If you can catch that bastard, we might just… well, it could give us a lead to catching you-know-who. Don’t let this opportunity pass.”

But still, Kirishima deliberated, looking anxiously back and forth between Denki and his kids and the now almost out-of-sight villain. 

“They won’t be safe until we catch him,” Denki pressed. “Go.”

With a loud groan, Kirishima gave in, racing across the street in spite of the traffic, narrowly dodging vehicles under a cacophony of honks and angry shouts. 

Denki watched his friend go, fighting down the panic that was now steadily rising within him as the cold realization that he’d just sent his kids’ only source of protection away. He swallowed thickly, trying to convince himself he'd made the right choice as Kirishima’s broad shoulders vanished from view amidst the crowd of pedestrians across the street.

“Dad…?” Aika asked, slowly reaching out to grab his hand, her tiny fingers trembling. 

But Denki didn’t answer. The shock of seeing a known PLF member on the street right in front of him, his one Pro bodyguard suddenly leaving him alone with his children, defenseless, had shaken him right down to his core. He was alone with his kids in the open. An attack could come from anywhere. He needed to get off the street. He needed to move. 

Heights Alliance. If he could get to the Hero Offices, they’d be safe. It wasn’t too far. And if he could hail any cop or Pro he saw along the way-

Denki turned, tugging on Aika and Rai’s hands, nearly causing the younger to topple over, and prepared himself to set off down the street at a brisk pace when another figure burst from the crowd directly in front of him. 

He drew his kids behind him instinctively, letting go of Aika so he could raise his arm, prepared to let loose with his Quirk if necessary, before recognizing their face. 

“Emi?”

“Denki!” she gasped, out of breath, seizing the front of his shirt for support as she doubled over, wheezing. “W-wait! You need… to stop…!”

Denki shook her off, taking a step back, making sure his kids stayed behind him. 

Of course she’d appear right now, right as Kirishima left, right as he was vulnerable. Sure, seeing Emiko was better than some other random PLF member or his father, but it still wasn’t exactly comforting. Especially not when his children were with him. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked without thinking, then shook his head and said, “I don’t have time for this, Emi, I need to get my kids off the street-”

“It’s a trap,” she panted, straightening up. “They sent someone out alone to draw your Pro friend away. You can’t go to the Hero office; they’ve got an ambush waiting for you.”

Denki swallowed thickly. He wanted to ask how she knew this, but whether she was working with their father or not, she was still part of the MLA. He supposed it was possible she could have picked this information up by hearsay. In any event, now wasn’t the time for that. He could grill her later when his children weren’t in danger. 

What she was saying had merit, however. That earthworm guy just ‘happening’ to be on the street right in front of him was possible - just not probable. There was a distinct possibility that she was telling the truth and that this was all a setup meant to separate him from his bodyguards, and if it was, then it was obvious that Heights Alliance is the first place he’d think of to go. 

Only… now what? Did he call someone? Hope they could get to him before another PLF member found him and his kids on the street? Pray that another Hero just happened to wander by? What was the right move?

Behind him, Aika had taken her little brother in her arms protectively while the two peered cautiously around their father’s legs at the newcomer. 

After a moment, Aika said, “Hey… Aren’t you the lady who saved Rai?”

Emi glanced down at her niece and nephew and seemed to hesitate almost as if she’d only just noticed them, half opening her mouth as though she intended to respond. Then she closed it with a snap and returned her attention back to Denki.

“We need to get off the street,” Emi continued, not waiting for her brother’s input. “I know a place - we can go to my hideout, they won’t be able to find us there. But we need to hurry.”

She turned as though expecting Denki to just follow her, but hesitated when Denki didn’t budge. 

Go to her hideout? She was kidding, right? Sure, he’d been given reasons to question his initial assumption that she had to be working with their father, and she had risked her life to save Rai… But trusting her was still a gamble. And he didn’t gamble with his children’s lives. 

“No,” he said instead, crouching down and scooping Rai up in one arm, taking Aika’s hand again in his other and turning away from his sister. “I’m sorry, Emi, but I can’t take that risk.”

Emi spluttered incoherently for a second as Denki began walking away, then hurried after him. 

“What are you doing?! I told you you can’t go to the Hero office! That’s where they’re waiting for you!”

“That’s not where we’re going.”

“Then what? You gonna hide out in a department store? After they torched your in-law’s place like it was nothing?”

“No.”

“Then what? Denki, I’m trying to help you here!”

Denki’s pace was fast, plowing through the crowds on the street with little to no care for how rude he was being. Aika was forced to jog to keep up, her face pale and scared, her hand squeezing his tightly. Rai had his arms around his father’s neck, and though he didn’t know what was happening, he’d picked up on the mood. The feeling of him shaking and the memory of his body on that hospital bed only spurred Denki into moving faster. 

He needed to get his kids somewhere safe. Somewhere with a lot of Pros. They were too far now from Todoroki’s place, there was no way in hell he was going with Emiko, and if the Hero Office was off-limits…

Then there was only one place he could go. 

The trip only took a few minutes, but to Denki, it felt like it took hours. He kept twisting his head this way and that, on the lookout for any potential PLF attacks, not even sure that he would recognize the faces of any members other than his father, but it didn’t matter. Nothing wound up happening. Though his heart thundered in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins, nothing at all happened, and before too long, he had arrived in front of his apartment complex. 

Tanjirou the security guard, the man who it seemed never took a day off, glanced up lazily from his phone. He looked surprised at first to see Denki and his kids, but his surprise turned to concern when he noticed Denki’s expression. 

“Kaminari? What’s wro-?”

“Spotted a PLF member on the street,” Denki cut in hurriedly, trying to keep his voice down so random passers-by couldn’t hear him. “Same one from the attack the other night. Red Riot is on the pursuit, but I need to get my kids off the street.”

Tanjirou had already inputted the code to unlock the doors before Denki had even finished speaking. 

“I’ll alert the head of security,” he said in his deep, business-professional voice as Aika slipped in ahead of the others, “as well as any Pros who are currently at home, just to be safe.”

“Thank you, Tanjirou,” Denki said with a tight smile before turning to follow his daughter inside. 

“What about her?”

Denki turned to see who Tanjirou was talking about only to then remember that Emi had been following them. She was staring up at the tall apartment complex with a mixture of dread and unease on her face. 

Denki hesitated. If she was telling the truth and was also being hunted by their father, then leaving his little sister out on the streets where it was dangerous was the absolute last thing he could do. The likelihood of her lying and actually being on their father’s side was still pretty high, however, despite what her recent actions seemed to be implying. Still, she was his little sister, and she had saved Rai…

“She’s with me,” he said to Tanjirou, then, turning to address Emi, he said, “You can come in if you want, but I’d understand if you’d rather go back to where you’re staying.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to do just that. She was looking at his apartment complex like it was a bear trap and she was being forced to deliberately stick her foot right in it. Eventually, however, her unease turned to determination, and, with clenched fists, she nodded and followed Denki inside, ignoring Tanjirou’s suspicious eyes. 

The elevator ride up to the floor his apartment was on was a tense and uncomfortable affair. They rode in complete silence, with the intercom repeating the morning weather forecast in a calm, robotic voice. He’d set Rai down when they’d entered, and now both of his kids were standing behind him, peering out around his legs and staring at Emiko with wide, cautious eyes like a pair of kittens being confronted with a dog for the first time in their lives. 

Emiko wasn’t doing much better. She kept fidgeting with her hands, adjusting her weight from foot to foot and casting her eyes about in every direction. Her gaze kept returning to the kids, however, and every time it did, she jerked her eyes away as though the sight of them burned her. 

Finally, they arrived on Denki’s floor, and after pausing a moment to extricate his keys from his pocket, he opened the door and ushered his kids inside. 

He paused when he noticed Emi hesitating to follow. 

“You going in?” he asked, wondering if she was suddenly going to change her mind now after refusing her chance to leave down on the ground floor. Instead of answering, she shot him a surly glare, as though him inviting her into his home was somehow rude, before brushing past him and stomping her way inside. 

The old part of him that delighted at frustrating his little sister smirked. 

While the kids were off in their rooms, gathering the things they’d need for their extended stay with the Todoroki’s, Emi was left alone in the living room. Denki could just see her from his position in the kitchen, and in a way, it was sort of funny. 

She was sitting rigidly on the end of the couch, her spine completely straight, her arms folded tightly across her chest, almost like she was afraid to touch anything. From the way her eyes bounced around from object to object, you’d think she’d never been in an apartment before. 

Still, Denki had more important things to do than spy on his socially awkward younger sister. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and shot Kirishima a text. 

Any luck?

A few minutes later, his friend responded. 

I’m so sorry man he got away

Denki groaned softly, leaning forward against the counter. Just his luck, that slippery earthworm bastard had gotten away again. 

Wait, was that discriminatory…?

Were U at?

Denki fought down his pathological need to correct his friend’s spelling and instead focused on his response.

Home. Emiko showed up right after you left and said they had a trap waiting for us on the way to Heights Alliance, so we came home instead. Didn’t see anything on the street though.

His response came almost instantaneously. 

U serious? Im so sorry i shouldnt have left

It’s alright, we’re fine. You should probably get some Pros to help you sweep the streets near the office though just to be safe.

Already on it

Denki nodded to himself. Of course he was; Red Riot was a consummate Pro who usually ranked somewhere around thirteen on the billboards. If he was on the case, he and his kids had nothing to worry about. 

Nothing except for the woman currently seated awkwardly on his couch. 

If Kirishima had already alerted the Pros, however, then that meant Kyouka was bound to find out any second now. He needed to text her first before-

His phone buzzed in his hand, and a picture of his wife popped up on screen. 

Great. 

He answered the call with no little trepidation, and as soon as he did, his wife launched into her questions without even so much as a greeting.

“Denki? Are you alright? Where are the kids, are they safe?”

“Hun, they’re fine-”

“Where are you? Kirishima said you were gone when he got back-”

“We went home. I figured it was safer there than waiting out in the open on the street corner.”

“Good, good…” his wife replied, sounding frazzled, and then a moment later she took a deep, steadying breath. “Ok, that’s… that’s good.”

A small smile crept its way onto Denki’s face. She was so cute when she was anxious. 

Sadly, that wasn’t all he needed to say to her. She was going to find out from Kirishima soon if she hadn’t already, and he assumed she hadn’t, otherwise, she would have brought it up immediately. 

“Um, also…” he began, struggling to find the best way to word this without his wife completely losing it. “There’s, ah… See, right after Kirishima ran off, someone… Someone showed up and warned me of a trap set by the PLF, so I brought them with me, and… they’re sitting on our couch.”

There was a beat in which Denki could practically see his wife processing his words. 

“...Denki, are you telling me you let your sister into our home with our children?”

Denki felt his wince reverberate throughout his entire body like he was bracing for impact. 

“...Yes?”

He expected shouting. He expected insults. He expected her to repeatedly question his intelligence. 

He didn’t expect her to simply hang up the phone. 

For a long moment, Denki could only stare at the now-silent device in his hands. 

Well. 

That can’t be good. 

He wasn’t sure how to take this. Either she was sticking to her Hero duties and using her Quirk to scour the area for any of the PLF members who were lying in wait to ambush him… or she’d thrown all caution to the wind and was on her way here now to arrest his sister and possibly kill him in the process. 

This was going to be a fun afternoon. 

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Denki headed towards the short hallway situated between the kitchen and the living room that lead to both the guest bathroom as well as both of his children’s bedrooms so he could check on their progress packing. It wasn’t until he’d reached the corner and he could fully see into the living room that he realized both of his children had apparently migrated there while he was on the phone. 

He hesitated, hiding just behind the wall, suddenly morbidly curious as to how this interaction was going to go. He was uncomfortable leaving his kids alone with Emi, but he was also fairly confident that they were perfectly safe. If she’d intended to harm them, she wouldn’t have saved Rai, after all. That, and if she tried anything, he was literally right there. 

He watched Emiko watch Rai as he sorted through the basket full of toys and video games he kept beside their TV stand. Denki could tell that he wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, however. He had that same look that he had on when he was supposed to be cleaning or getting ready for bed, which meant he was really just wasting time. 

Aika, for her part, had seated herself on a chair and was rifling through some of the worksheets she’d been given for homework. There were only so many of them, however, and he knew his daughter well enough to know that she didn’t actually care about them either. She was more interested in the mystery stranger seated on their couch. 

After a moment, Rai stopped pretending to care about his toys and got to his feet, slowly walking towards Emi with his hands balled up in his shirt, looking for all the world like a nervous kid approaching a big animal at a petting zoo. 

Emi, for her part, watched his slow advance like he was a train and she'd been tied to the railroad tracks. 

Rai stopped next to the coffee table, about half a meter away, and opened his mouth. 

“Um… Do you…um... Are you really the lady who saved me?”

Aika had stopped pretending to go through her homework and was watching the exchange as well. 

Emi blinked owlishly, practically exuding discomfort, and finally said, in a weak voice, “Uh… Y-yeah, I am.”

Rai’s nerves disappeared, and all at once, his expression lit up like a new year’s firework. 

“Oh, wow!” he exclaimed, jumping up and down giddily and making Emi drawback, alarmed. “That’s amazing! Are you a Hero?!”

“O-oh, no. No, no, no, I’m not- I’m not a Hero, I’m just…”

Here, she hesitated, glancing back and forth between Rai and Aika’s expectant faces before noticing Denki peeking around the corner and shooting him a distressed look. 

Denki smirked. She was so bad at lying. 

The thing about lying, he’d learned during his stint as the traitor, was that you needed to keep it as close to the truth as possible, otherwise, the holes became too obvious. 

“Kids,” Denki cut in gently, stepping into the room. “This is my cousin, Emiko.”

Aika shot Denki a confused look. 

“You have a cousin?”

The memory of his and Aika’s conversation the other week about him never telling her about his family shot through Denki’s head, and he tried not to wince. 

“Yeah, I do. But we haven’t seen each other since we were teenagers, that’s why you’ve never met her before.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Emi chimed in, sounding relieved. Rai seemed to accept the answer without question, which made sense because he was four, but Aika, who was a little bit older, frowned. 

Worried she’d begin asking questions he couldn’t answer, Denki quickly changed the subject. 

“Well, looks like we could be stuck in here for a little while… You guys want some lunch?”

The question prompted a loud “Yeah!” from Rai, who would get excited about anything, and allowed Denki to slip out of the room without having to answer any more awkward question from Aika.

Or so he thought. 

Unfortunately for him, she followed him into the kitchen, claiming a seat at the bar while he rifled through the fridge and cupboards, looking for anything they might have that could be considered edible. 

“Dad,” she began, sounding unusually determined, “what’s going on?”

A loud thunk and an ‘ow!’ emanate from the living room, and when Denki glanced up over Aika’s head, he could see Rai leading Emi by the hand towards his basket of toys, which he immediately began pulling out one by one and describing to her. From the pained look on her face, it was evident she wanted to be anywhere else, but it seemed even she was powerless in the face of Rai’s innocent enthusiasm. 

He glanced back down at his daughter and opted for his most charming smile. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Aika quirked a brow and Denki cursed himself internally. He never called her sweetheart unless he was hiding something. 

“Why did Uncle Kirishima run off?” she asked, getting straight to the point. “And why did your cousin know we were in danger?”

Great. Why couldn’t she be four like her brother and have the memory of a goldfish? She was going to be a pain when she was a teenager. 

The best way to explain this would be to finally tell her… but her birthday was tomorrow, he didn’t want to run the risk of ruining that for her. What if she spent the whole day terrified her estranged grandfather was going to burn the building down again?

Still, he had to tell her something. Best to keep it as close to the truth as he could. 

“Well… Remember last week when I came home late because I witnessed a crime?” When she nodded, he continued. “One of the villains got away, but I saw him on the street today. That’s why Kirishima ran off; he was trying to catch him.”

That was all actually true, for the most part. Maybe he could do this. 

Aika nodded along slowly, watching him separate the ingredients he’d pulled out on the counter and begin dicing the onions. 

“So… Your cousin thought we were in danger because you witnessed a crime and saw the villain on the street?”

He wanted to tell her ‘yes’, but knew that wasn’t going to cut it. She was too inquisitive for her own good. Or for his peace of mind. 

“Um, sort of,” he began, wracking his brain for a plausible answer. “The police… think he might be connected with what happened back at Grandma’s house the other day. So just to be sure, we decided to get somewhere safe while the Heroes capture him.”

He was prepared for the next question now. The one about how Emi knew they’d be in danger, and why some random villain Denki had allegedly ‘just happened’ to see do a crime would go so far as to burn their grandparents’ house down when Denki wasn’t even there. He had no idea how he’d answer them, but those would be the questions to ask next, and she’d already asked about Emi before. 

However, that’s not what she asked. Instead, upon hearing that the man he’d seen was connected to her brother almost dying in a fire, Aika’s expression grew stony and she turned her gaze down away from her father’s, directing it back at the homework she’d brought along with her. 

“Oh,” was all she said. 

Denki blinked, confused. That was it? ‘Oh’? No more questions? That wasn’t like Aika at all. Had she come to some other incorrect conclusion about what had happened to her and her brother? 

A better parent would have spent more time talking with his kids after such a traumatic event, but Denki had been devoting so much of his time to wandering the streets with Emi, playing at being a Hero, trying to find his father and put an end to this once and for all that he… hadn’t been spending as much time with his kids as he should. 

The problem was, helping Aika come to terms with what happened would require him coming clean about his past. And he’d already given himself a date to do that; the day after tomorrow, once Aika’s birthday had passed. It was arbitrary, and stupid, and selfish, and cowardly, but… ignoring this for now would let him focus on what he needed to. Plus it would help him avoid this awkward line of questioning. He felt terrible, but… it was what he needed in order to do what needed to be done. 

Aika didn’t ask any more questions, and before long, Denki had finished cooking lunch. It was a somewhat plain, modest meal; rice, some grilled vegetables, a little bit of seasoning. Honestly, it was all they had in the fridge at the moment. He hadn’t done any real shopping because his kids hadn’t been staying here and he hadn’t expected to have to cook. Still, it was good enough, and miraculously, no one, not even Rai, complained. 

If the meal they had was normal, the situation they were in was anything but. Emi’s presence stuck out like a sore thumb, and she looked uncomfortably awkward sitting in between Rai and Aika (they chose their seats after she’d already sat down). 

Rai talked through the entire meal, spitting out flecks of rice every other word, completely enamored by this mysterious woman who had saved his life. Aika interjected every now and then either to correct her brother about something or to make a dry observation, but even that was more than she usually spoke when a stranger was around, which was a surprise. 

For Emi’s part, she mostly stayed quiet during the meal, using wordless ‘oh’s and ‘mmm’s to indicate that she was listening, but it was becoming increasingly apparent to Denki that his little sister’s discomfort with the situation and the amount of attention she was getting from her niece and nephew was starting to wane. 

By the time the meal ended and Denki got started on the dishes, Emi’s smile had gone from awkward and lopsided to full-lipped and earnestly amused. It was like Rai’s endless energy had soaked its way into her and melted her heart, at least a bit. When she returned to the living room after eating and Rai invited her to play video games with her, she agreed, and as Denki scrubbed the plates, the apartment was filled with the sound of their playful taunts and laughter. 

Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be letting his kids get so close to her. She could be a threat. She could be out to hurt him and his family. 

But at the same time, there was a very real part of him that was hoping he was wrong. A part that had missed his old family, his little sister who he’d thought was dead for all these years, and he delighted at the thought of her being part of his children’s lives. 

The days they’d spent together, pounding the pavement, constantly on the alert for a possible attack… they had done something to him. It had been surprisingly easy to slip back into their old brother-sister dynamic of playful insults and quips. In the back of his head, he knew that she still couldn’t be trusted - not as long as their father was free and the possibility existed that she could betray them - but that part of him was slowly being edged out by the part that just missed his sister and wanted her back. 

Of course, none of that mattered now. They’d find Denki’s father soon, and once they did, the truth about Emi’s intentions would be made clear. And even if she was innocent, even if she really had come to him seeking help, that didn’t mean that she wanted him to be a part of her life again. 

And after what he’d done, he couldn’t blame her. 

Sometimes, he didn’t want to be a part of his own life. 

Not long after he’d finished cleaning up, he received a text from his wife, informing him that the search had turned up nothing and that the police had decided to send a car to pick him and the kids up to escort them back to Momo’s. When he announced this to the room, Emi declared that she’d be taking her leave, and his kids both seemed upset. Particularly Rai, who was clinging to her pant leg while she put her shoes back on, tears in his eyes while he begged her to stay. 

“I’m sorry, bud,” she said, ruffling his hair and actually sounding like she meant it. “I really have to go now.”

“But will you come back again?” Rai asked, throwing out his most killer puppy dog look, and Emi made a discomfited face. 

“Um… Well, I don’t know…”

This only made Rai more upset, but just as Denki opened his mouth to try to come up with some excuse for her, Aika cut in. 

“You should come to my birthday party tomorrow.”

Both Denki and Emi blinked. 

“O-oh…? Your birthday… party?”

“Aika,” Denki said quickly, “you know you can’t just invite people over to Momo’s house without asking-”

“So?” Aika challenged, not making eye-contact. “She saved Rai’s life, and she’s your cousin. Plus it’s not like there won’t be room - mom isn’t going to make it anyway.”

That plunged the conversation into an uncomfortable silence, and after a moment, Emi said, “Well… We’ll see, ok? But no promises.”

Aika nodded in acceptance, but Rai let out a cheer and threw both of his arms around Emi’s legs in the tightest hug he could muster, nearly making her lose her balance. 

Once she’d been extracted from her nephew’s embrace, Emi left the apartment, leaving Denki alone with his kids. 

He immediately rounded on his daughter. 

“Aika,” he said, using his quiet ‘disappointed father’ tone, “why would you say that about your mother? You know she’s going to do her best to be there - she even said she asked for the evening off, just for you.”

“She always says that,” Aika muttered, turning away and heading back into the living room, following Rai, who had lost interest as soon as Emi was gone. “Maybe it’d be better if she didn’t come anyway.”

“Aika!”

What in the world had gotten into her? Only, it was right then that he received another text, this one from Kirishima, letting him know the police car had arrived for them and was waiting outside. 

With promises that this conversation was not over and double-checking that they’d packed everything they needed, he ushered his kids out the door and back into the elevator. 

Seriously, if it wasn’t one thing, it was another. 

When was life going to give him a break?

Chapter Text

As it turned out, getting Kouda to begin sending messenger pigeons to Denki’s location can’t have been all that difficult, because within three days of his impromptu meetup with his old friends, the roof of his parents’ house was suddenly pigeon central. 

This left Denki both anxious and utterly baffled. Anxious because, obviously, if anyone took notice of him suddenly frolicking amidst flocks of birds on his rooftop, they’d either make the connection between him and his old friend from UA and begin to suspect that he had, in fact, been passing secret info along to the Heroes, or else think he’d absolutely lost his mind (the latter of which he couldn’t exactly fault them on.) However, he was baffled because, even after spending so much time with Kouda in class, he still didn’t exactly get how the laconic boy’s Quirk even worked. 

He knew he couldn’t really talk to animals. As in, he couldn’t enter into dialogue with them and discuss the weather or whatever. He could issue commands, and his Quirk allowed him to impress his will onto them, but he wasn’t able to give them complicated orders. Like, he couldn’t tell a dog to pick up a pencil and do his math homework. So how Kouda managed to get these pigeons to find Denki’s house (somewhere Kouda had never even been) and wait specifically for him was anyone’s guess. But it served as a somewhat bitter reminder that he’d only spent a year with his friends at UA and there was still a lot he didn’t know about them. A lot that he could have learned, had his life gone in a different direction. 

The pigeons typically came in a flock, usually sometime midafternoon, and one of them usually had a roll of paper tied to their legs, hidden beneath a band of cloth that served as camouflage for anyone close enough to get a good look at the bird’s leg. The first time it happened, there was a message asking to confirm contact, which Denki replied to, but most days thereafter, even though the pigeons returned, the paper was blank. Presumably, they kept coming just in case Denki had word about Shigaraki or else had another message to send back, but the League had been away from Deika for some time and there wasn’t much for Denki to say. 

He kept the transceiver he’d been given from Jirou in his pocket at all times, however. Not so much as a precaution (because really, what was she going to do if he radioed in that he needed help? Fly over there?) but because having it on his person made him feel better. He found himself reaching his hand down to feel it through the fabric of his pocket multiple times throughout the day, as though Jirou and his friends were actually right there beside him, giving him strength. 

Thankfully for him, his family, the people most inclined to think it odd that he was spending so much time on the roof with disease-ridden rats of the sky (his sister’s words, not his), didn’t actually pay any attention to his newest weird behavior. Granted, part of that was because he’d been so weird over the past year that they were probably numb to his peculiarities, but it was also because things between Denki and his mother had grown so tense that the two could hardly be in the same room with one another without the air growing so cold you’d be forgiven for thinking it was the start of a new ice age. 

Despite Denki’s apparent about-face regarding the war and his sudden willingness to be a model PLF member, his relationship with his mother hadn’t improved at all. Part of this was because of their fight in the hospital a few weeks before and the things he’d said to her. But Denki was beginning to suspect that there was more to it now. Once he’d finally turned around and began carrying his weight, going out on raids and fighting Pros like a good little soldier, he’d almost immediately begun receiving praise from the other PLF members and their leaders. Denki had a powerful Quirk and had improved after all of his training at UA. He had talent and skill and it showed when he was on the battlefield. 

And it seemed to Denki that his mother resented that. 

She’d done her best. She’d volunteered to help out, to take to the front lines and do her part, long before Denki had even considered pulling his head out of his rear and taking a stand. And what had she gotten for it? 

Hospitalized. Nearly killed. Endless mockery from their peers and neighbors. 

Sometimes, when they passed each other in the house, his mother would pretend like he wasn’t even there, like he was less than a ghost, like he’d never even existed at all. But sometimes, he’d catch her looking at him, and though she never said a word, the hurt and frustration and anger that displayed in her eyes from a lifetime of being told and shown that she just wasn’t good enough bore down on top of him like the crushing weight of a tsunami, and he had to turn and leave the room before it suffocated him. 

Part of him hated her for it. It wasn’t his fault that the Quirk she was born with wasn’t as useful as the one fate, random chance, and the complexities of DNA had given him. It wasn’t his fault that the PLF decided your worth based upon your ability to contribute to their cause. It wasn’t his fault that she’d decided to join forces with the wrong side of this war, and after all, she was the one who had pulled him into this alongside her. He wasn’t to blame for the way she was feeling. 

But at the same time, despite their strangled relationship at the present, he couldn’t help but hurt alongside her. He hated the way that everyone else seemed to talk about her. He hated how the PLF and their broken, cancerous ideology had beaten her down and abandoned her. He hated that she was made to feel this way every day, and he hated most of all that his existence only seemed to make things worse for her. 

She may be misguided, and she may be a criminal and a terrorist, but she was still his mother and he loved her. 

And then, one day, it happened. 

There was no fanfare, no dramatic announcement, no desperate, heart-pounding chase like you might see in a movie. As he exited the PLF headquarters one day, by complete accident, he saw him.

Tomura Shigaraki. 

He was there, in Deika. 

Why, how, when, for how long - Denki didn’t know. And he knew that he couldn’t be the one to risk asking questions, not directly, not considering who he was and who he had been. The PLF in Deika may be trusting him more, but there was no way the League would ever see him as anything but a traitor. 

Perhaps Shigaraki had been drawn back due to the rumored increase in Hero activity in the area. Perhaps he had some secret plans of his own design that peons like Denki would never be privy to. Perhaps there was no reason and this was just random chance. 

Regardless, his moment had finally come. The job his friends and the Heroes had entrusted to him. He could end this, now. The fate of this war and the end of his suffering was right there, in his hands. He needed to act as swiftly as possible. 

He raced back home, hoping no one noticed, hoping no one thought anything strange about it. He knew he should walk, knew he shouldn’t draw attention to himself, but hope had blossomed right before his eyes like a brilliant, ephemeral light and he raced directly towards it like a moth, unwilling and incapable to focus on anything else. 

He knew that if he paused, if he hesitated, if he tried to think, that doubts would creep back in. Fear would threaten to overtake him again, just like back in school. He couldn’t let that happen again. Not now. Not while he had this second chance. 

He threw the front door open, racing inside, heedless of the way the door banged loudly against the wall, not even bothering to remove his shoes in his haste. His sister was out, he knew, and his father had been scheduled off inventorying ReDestro’s stock of weapons, gear, and Quirk enhancers, so the house should be empty anyway. It was still afternoon - Kouda’s pigeons were likely still on the roof. If he hurried, he could get the message out today, and then… and then…!

“Denki?”

He froze partway up the stairs, his stomach in his throat and his heart in his shoes. 

Slowly, he turned around and did his best to work a believable smile onto his face. 

His mother was standing in the hallway below, having exited the kitchen just after he’d raced past. The look on her face was equal parts concerned and uncomfortable. His dramatic entrance had clearly alarmed her, but it was evident that she was just as lost on how to talk to him now as he was with how to talk to her. 

“H-hi, mom,” he managed to croak out, struggling not to let his desperation to get out of this conversation show on his face. He needed to get up to the roof. He also didn’t want to have this awkward talk right now. He wasn’t in the right headspace. 

There was an uncomfortable pause as Denki shifted his feet on the stairs and his mother wiped her hands with the rag she was holding. Neither would look each other in the eyes. 

Finally, she managed a weak, “Is… is everything ok?”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” he blathered, aware of how out-of-breath he sounded. “Um, I just… really needed… to poop?”

He could practically see Jirou rolling her eyes and Mineta trying and failing not to laugh. 

His mother nodded, but from the expression on her face, she clearly wasn’t actually listening to him. Her eyes were still glued to the wrag in her hands, which she was wringing with excessive force. 

“Oh, that’s… that’s good,” was all she managed, and Denki felt his grip tighten on the banister. 

“Yeah… well, anyway, I’ll talk to you later-”

“Denki, wait!”

He froze again, only one step higher than he had been before, and turned back to his mom, frustration now getting the better of him. He didn’t have time for this! He needed to get that message out!

But the look on his mom’s face had him pausing. Her brows were downcast, her lip quivering, and she had her shoulders scrunched inwards as though preparing for a blow. 

Finally, she lifted her eyes, and their gazes met. 

“...Are we going to be ok?” she whispered, and for a wild moment, Denki had no idea what they were talking about. 

Were they going to be ok?

In his mind’s eye, he saw the big moments from the last hectic year of his life replay in slow motion. UA in flames, Jirou on the hilltop, his mother in the hospital, his friends in the warehouse. 

Shigaraki was here, in Deika. Denki was going to betray the PLF to the Pros, and even though he didn’t know their exact plans, in all likelihood, Heroes were soon about to descend upon the city in all of their wrath. People were going to die soon. And once again, Denki was going to be the start of it.

Nothing was ever going to be ok again. He’d learned that the hard way when he left his home-away-from-home burning to the ground. 

But if he didn’t act now, then they’d miss their chance to stop Shigaraki. And if that psychopath won… nothing would be ok ever again. 

And so, with a smile that he knew was too sad to be believable, he looked down on his mother and said, “...Yeah, mom. We’ll be ok.”

She had almost died once. He’d nearly lost her to this stupid war. And the best way to help her would be to help his friends take the PLF and the League down. Even if it meant that he and his family were arrested in the process. 

And even if he knew she’d never forgive him for it, this was the course he’d finally resolved himself to follow. Because being arrested was preferable to being dead.

When she didn’t immediately respond, he turned once more to head up the stairs and found himself pausing for the third time as she whispered, softly, “I love you, Denki.”

Her quiet words were heavy with implied apology.

His fingers were clenched painfully on the banister. The corners of his eyes stung. 

She wouldn’t feel that way for long. 

Wordlessly, he left his mother behind and climbed the rest of the stairs. 

A few minutes later, a flock of pigeons took off into the sky, vanishing into the bright blue afternoon. 

The doorbell rang, sounding out loud and clear over the babble of human voices as Denki fought his way over towards the front door. 

Honestly, he wasn’t exactly sure how he’d wound up playing the doorman. Granted, it was his daughter’s birthday party, but it also wasn’t his house. Momo and Shouto were rich; couldn’t they afford their own doorman? It seemed sort of odd for a guest to be doing this job. 

Then again, no one had assigned it to him. He’d just sort of… taken over of his own volition. And if he were being honest, he knew why he was doing it. He just didn’t want to say it out loud, in case he jinxed himself. 

When he opened the door, he was unsurprised that none of the people waiting behind it were who he had been hoping to see. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t excited to see them, however. 

“Kirishima!” he said, not having to force his excitement at all even though he’d literally just seen him the day before, “Mina! You both made it!”

“Birthday miracles,” Kirishima joked, his roguish grin revealing familiar pointed teeth, and he bumped Denki on the shoulder as the blond stepped aside to let the family in. 

Mina was still in her Hero outfit, which implied that she’d headed over right after getting off of patrol. She didn’t have to do that; he would have understood if she’d decided to stay home and rest, and it’s not like Aika would have really noticed. They were used to this sort of thing from their pseudo-extended family, seeing as most of them were Pros. Still, birthday parties like this served as a pretty good excuse to get together, so most of his friends tried to be there if they could, even the ones who didn’t have kids of their own. 

Kirishima and Mina did not fall into that category, however, and as the two parents began taking off their shoes, their five-year-old daughter shuffled in behind them, bouncing on her tiptoes as she looked around the house for a familiar face. 

“What?” Denki asked, affecting a disappointed tone in his voice. “You too cool now to say hello to your favorite uncle?”

Mieko, who looked like the perfect fifty-fifty blend of her parents, snapped her eyes back to Denki and flashed him a guilty, jagged-toothed smile. 

Now, Denki knew you weren’t supposed to play favorites. But just like his kids each had a favorite aunt or uncle, Denki had a favorite niece, and that was easily Mieko. The girl was a born and bred trouble-maker, with a knack for getting herself into sticky situations and pulling everyone else in along with her. 

Everything about her she’d gotten from her parents. She had her dad’s reckless courage and her mom’s boundless optimism, her father’s smile and her mother’s skin tone, and even her hair seemed to be a mix of the two - pink like her mom’s, but jagged and wild like her dad’s. Of course, the latter had more to do with how her Quirk actively got in the way of anyone ever hoping to style or trim it, but Denki thought the look worked for her. She was like a savage, wild, jungle girl. Though she may not appreciate that as much when she entered her teens.

“Sorry, Kaminari,” Mieko said, scratching the back of her wild, untameable hair. “I was just looking for-”

“Mieko!” a voice shouted, and both she and Denki turned their heads towards the newcomer. 

It was Rai, looking positively ecstatic to see his best friend. 

The grin on Mieko’s face went from polite and apologetic to mischievous and feral in the blink of an eye. 

“Mieko Kirishima, don’t you dare-!”

Mina’s motherly attempts to reign in her daughter were valiant and ineffectual. Without hesitation, without even removing her shoes, Mieko darted past her parents, charging straight at Rai, and raised her hand.

Rai responded in kind, holding his hand up, palm out, a delighted expression on his face, and before anyone could stop them, the two kids exchanged an energetic high-five. 

A small sonic boom (if small sonic booms could be said to exist) emanated outward from Rai’s hand, effectively cutting off all other noise with a wave of pained hisses from the house’s occupants as the walls and windows of the building rattled. 

More surprising, however, was that Mieko’s arm literally exploded, sending chunks of flesh splattering all over the walls and floor of the Todorokis’ entryway. 

From over in one of the side rooms, Denki could see the face of Shouto’s older sister Fuyumi, who didn’t know Mina and Kirishima as well as she knew Denki and Kyouka, and who hadn’t spent much time around Mieko at all. From the look of abject horror on her face, it was obvious that she thought something gruesome and horrific had gone down in the entrance of her family home. 

Everyone else who knew Mieko was staring down at her with a mixture of consternation and poorly-concealed amusement as the pink-haired she-devil rolled around on the ground, laughing uproariously, waving her stump of an arm through the air like a victory flag. Rai was laughing too, still on his feet but doubled-over, his hands balled up in his shirt and pressed against his stomach to keep himself upright. 

Mina wasn’t content to let the kids enjoy themselves, however. Mustering up all of her motherly authority, she marched over to her daughter and scowled down at her, arms akimbo in traditional disapproving mother style. 

“Mieko Kirishima!” she hissed, trying to whisper and shout at the same time while her husband bowed and apologized profusely to the elder Rei Todoroki who had come over to see what all the fuss was about only to find the front of her house splattered in pink globs of human flesh. “What have I told you about using your Quirk in public?!”

“Aw, but moooom-!”

“No buts! Get off the floor right now and clean this up or I am taking you home!”

Mieko flopped onto her back, spread-eagled, and let out an exaggerated groan. 

“Fiiiiine…”

All at once, the various wet chunks of her arm that had splattered all around the room suddenly began roiling as though they’d been heated to a boil, only to suddenly jerk back towards the girl as though pulled by a magnetic force. They stuck wetly to Mieko’s body for a moment, splattered like gobs of paint, before being absorbed inside, and like a fast-forwarded video of a plant growing, Mieko’s arm regrew itself out of her stump. 

Mieko’s Quirk was basically the exact inverse of her father’s. Where Kirishima could make his skin and body incredibly hard, giving him a nigh impregnable defense, Mieko could make her body so soft that she melted - which, actually, basically gave her a pretty great defense too. The fact that her Quirk had gone the exact opposite direction of her father’s was probably because of her mother’s genes. 

It was an incredibly useful Quirk, but it had also been a hassle for the parents because it had manifested when Mieko was still a toddler and she wasn’t very good at controlling it. They’d spent the last several years terrified that she’d accidentally activate it while in the bathtub or while walking over a sewer drain and be sucked away. 

Thankfully, that hadn’t happened, Mieko had managed to learn to control it safely, and had grown into the absolute hellion that they all knew and loved. 

Once her arm was back, Mieko hopped to her feet, flashed an apologetic smile at her mom, then seized Rai’s hand and immediately ran away, screaming “Retreat!” at the top of her lungs. 

With a look of longsuffering that seemed completely out of place on the face of the usually carefree Mina Ashido, the Acid Hero turned to join her husband in apologizing to Todoroki’s mother, but the kindly older woman was having none of it. 

“Sweetie, please,” she said, smiling warmly, “I know how children are. Besides, it’s not like it left a permanent mess. I’m just grateful none of your kids are likely to burn my house down.”

It was clearly supposed to be a reference to her son Shouto and what it had been like raising a child with his incredibly destructive Quirk, but her eyes caught Denki’s over his friends’ shoulders and suddenly she went pale. 

Denki quickly shook his head, letting her know it was fine. He knew she hadn’t meant to sound so flippant about what had just happened to his in-laws, and considering the sheer amount of security their family compound had (and the number of Pros currently in the building), any idiot dumb enough to try something like that again today would end up in the back of a police car before anyone could even smell the smoke. 

In a disturbing sort of way, he almost hoped they’d try it. Maybe then he could finally put this whole ‘dad’ situation behind him. 

Denki followed the elder Rei and his two friends back into the kitchen where most of the adults had gathered. The reason for that was obvious; though Momo and Shouto’s family had been hard at work preparing food for their guests, it was the large birthday cake Sato had brought over that had drawn the crowd. Sugarman always made it a point to bake a cake whenever a birthday came around, but when it was a party for one of the kids, he went all-out. Today’s was no different; it was six layers tall, mostly chocolate, with multi-colored frosting and decorated with characters from a show Aika liked (he’d called and checked with Denki first). 

Sato was there too, both to show off his prized creation and also to protect it from scavengers. Aika, as the birthday girl, would get the first slice, but he’d had to fend off Uraraka, Sero, Tetsutetsu, and even Denki himself, as all had tried to swipe a lick of the frosting. 

Getting to see his friends all together like this was great, and was a large part of why he loved it whenever one of the kids’ birthdays came up. However, since almost all of them were Pros, it was also true that many of them wound up having to work and missed the party. Denki, who wasn’t a Pro, was one of the few who was always present at a birthday party, but some of these faces he hadn’t actually seen in quite some time. 

Tetsutetsu was a perfect example. It had been nearly eight months since he’d last seen Real Steel in person. True, he wasn’t as close with the old Class 1-B has he was with 1-A, but Tetsutetsu had a son who was about Mieko’s age and who was always there at a birthday party, so Denki would see him or his wife Kendo every now and then. 

Uraraka was another surprise. She worked primarily from her husband Midoriya’s office which was further north than Height’s Alliance, and she herself hadn’t been at a party for one of the kids in ages. Deku, for his part, almost never got to be there - as the country’s number one, he was almost always away on some important mission or another, and in those cases, either one of their friends or Midoriya’s mother would bring their kids along. 

Deku wasn’t the only missing face. Bakugou wasn’t there either, or Tokoyami, or Shouto, or Ojiro, or Asui. About half of the class wasn’t in attendance, which was a shame, but not unexpected. 

However, there was one absence that was affecting him more than any other. 

For what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour, Denki dug his phone out of his pocket and checked to see if his wife had responded to his messages. 

Nothing. 

He knew, when she’d told him and Aika that she’d requested to have tonight off, that it had been a longshot. Sure, if the day wound up being a normal day (and even Heroes had slow days), then she’d already be here. But the fact that she wasn’t, the fact that she hadn’t even responded to his messages, seemed to indicate that today was not, in fact, a normal day. 

Something must have come up to keep her away. He could only hope and pray that whatever it was, they got it resolved quickly so she could be here before the party ended. 

Aika’s attitude the day before had alarmed him. Sure, he knew that she’d been having issues with her mother for a while now, and yes, the older she got, the worse it was likely to become, at least until she matured enough to begin to understand exactly what her mother dealt with every day. But she’d been so much colder yesterday than she ever had been before, and he was worried that if Kyouka didn’t make it tonight…

He spent the next few minutes lingering in the kitchen with the other adults, chatting with his friends and continuously checking his phone, but after a while, his fidgeting over his wife’s lack of appearance had him making up the excuse that he was going to check on the kids if only so he could find something to do to distract himself.

The kids were all inside (because the security detail had decided it would be easier to protect them in the building, but also because it was looking like it might just rain, which had provided an easy excuse) and had mostly gathered in what Momo called ‘the Sitting Room’, which was a thing apparently that rich people had. Denki found it difficult to understand what the purpose of a ‘sitting’ room even was. To sit? Isn’t that what you did in the living room and… basically everywhere else?

The room, just like every other part of the Todoroki estate, gave off an air of high-class sophistication. The floors were a warm brown hardwood that sparkled like they’d been waxed recently. The furniture generally had a matching wood finish with soft white upholstery. They had yellow-gold lamps, bookshelves full of fancy-looking titles, and pictures of their extended family covered their walls. It was one of those rooms that was almost… too nice. The kind that made you feel like you were soiling it just by being in there. Or maybe that was just him. 

And as though to laugh in the face of how clean and orderly the room normally looked, it was currently infested with loud, rambunctious children. 

Denki spotted Rai almost immediately as he entered the room. His son was playing with the toys he’d brought over from their place, joined by Mieko and Tetsutetsu’s son, the girl entertaining the boys by sucking Rai’s action figures into her goopy body and spewing them out of her head like a rocket to the boys’ tumultuous laughter. 

Most of the kids in the room Denki only vaguely recognized as being some of Aika’s classmates from school. He’d actually called their parents personally when Aika had asked to invite them, making sure they understood the situation and that, while security would be tight, if they didn’t feel safe letting their kids come along, he’d make sure Aika understood. Some of the parents had backed down, but many of them didn’t, probably because they knew Momo and Shouto (since most of them were also Heroes) and trusted that their estate would be safe. Regardless, he was grateful; the more friends she had around, the less likely she was to notice her mother’s absence. 

Or so he hoped. 

The birthday girl herself was over in the back corner of the room, sitting on a couch with some friends from school, the younger Rei, as well as Uraraka and Midoriya’s twins, Nana and Toshinori, six-year-olds with their mother’s cheeks and their father’s pathological awkwardness. They were cute kids, but quiet, usually, and neither had manifested their Quirks yet which made them feel self-conscious. 

Also sitting on the couch was the girl who had volunteered to stay with the kids while the adults talked, Class 1-A’s one-and-only surrogate little sister, Eri. 

She was a teenager now, just about to graduate from high school, and had come along with Uraraka since she was on summer break now as well. Her red eyes met Denki’s as he entered the room, her face lighting up with a familiar smile before she noticed the expression on his face. 

Extracting herself from the conversation she was having with the kids (well, more like the conversation they were having that she was politely listening to), Eri made her way across the crowded room, trying not to push past any of the kids too roughly, and joined Denki by the doorway. 

“So?” she asked, expression hopeful. “Is Jirou going to get here soon?”

Oddly, the memory of a middle-school Eri sitting on his couch while Jirou taught her how to play guitar for her school’s culture festival flashed through his head. When had she gotten so old?

Denki did his best to smile. 

“No word from her yet,” he said, and Eri’s expression fell. “But I don’t think we can wait much longer. The kids are starting to go wild, and this isn’t my place, after all. I don’t want to put the Todoroki’s out.”

“I’m sure Aika will understand,” Eri reassured bracingly, but Denki didn’t reply. After his daughter’s comments yesterday, he had his doubts. 

But what else could he do? Such was the life of a Hero. Sometimes, you missed your daughter’s birthday. Oftentimes, actually. 

It would be ok. Eventually. 

But as concerned as he was for Aika, he was even more concerned for Kyouka. She always took it so hard when she let her kids down. And after she’d promised Aika and everything…

If she was missing the party due to an incident with a villain, then he prayed for that villain’s life. 

He called Aika over as Eri returned to her spot on the couch, and as his daughter approached him, he could tell from the way the smile faded that she already knew what he was going to say. 

She reacted basically just as he’d expected when he called her over and told her they were going to go ahead and get started; she’d nodded, told him it was ok, and then looked away. She had a tendency to bundle things up inside, not unlike her mother. He reached out and patted her head, not wanting to make a big show of apologizing right here in front of her friends in case it embarrassed her. 

By all accounts, the party was still a success. The kids had a lot of fun, playing games, admiring Aika’s gifts, devouring Sato’s amazing cake with gusto. And through the whole thing, Aika was smiling and laughing like nothing was wrong. She played with her friends, hugged and thanked her aunts and uncles for her gifts, made sure to spend time with her grandparents. She didn’t even get mad at Rai when he tripped and accidentally flung cake all over her. If anything, she was behaving perfectly. Maybe… too perfectly. 

A few hours later, the party was over, and the guests began filling out the door. Eri, Mina, and Kirishima volunteered to stay behind and help clean even though Momo and the Elder Rei told them they didn’t need to. Denki had a feeling Mina’s insistence had something to do with the fact that Toshi, Uraraka’s son, had mysteriously slipped and spilled an entire cup of soda on his pants. Smart money said that had Mieko’s name written all over it. 

Denki, at least, was grateful for their help. The party had left the place a bit of a mess, and he didn’t want to ask Aika to help since she was the birthday girl, after all. With all of their hands working together, they got the Todoroki’s place put back together in no time, and he got to spend a bit more time with his friends while the kids were occupied with Aika’s presents, for once not causing any trouble.

However, by the time they left and the house was back to normal, Kyouka still hadn’t shown up. 

The sun had set, the Todoroki estate once again quiet and calm. It was around nine in the evening, the overcast sky now thick with the promise of a summer thunderstorm. Almost everyone had retired to their rooms except for Denki, who had been in the bathroom, helping Rai bathe and get ready for bed. 

That was when, finally, he heard the front door open and close, and a familiar, exhausted voice called out, “Aika?”

Kyouka was back. 

His first instinct was to hurry up and join them, worried about how this interaction between mother and daughter was going to go, but he also knew he didn’t want Rai to see it if it was going to end in a fight (which at this rate, it very well might), so he hurriedly toweled his son dry, helped him slip into his pajamas, and tucked him into bed before heading off down the hall towards the room Aika had been given. 

The Todoroki estate was dark now, but as he crept silently down the hall, his path was illuminated briefly by a violent flash of light from a distant window, followed by a low roll of thunder. At least Kyouka had made it home before the storm broke.

The door to his daughter’s temporary room was ajar, illuminating the end of the hallway with the gentle lamplight that slipped out. Kyouka was already inside. Denki socked footsteps were soft on the carpeted floor, and he slowed to a stop just before the doorframe, leaning against the outer wall in the darkness with his forearm, listening. 

“...Hun, I’m so sorry,” Kyouka was saying, her voice muted with genuine sorrow. “I tried to be here - I really did, but… something came up, and-”

“It’s fine,” Aika cut in, her tone curt and sullen. “It’s normal. I didn’t think you were going to be here anyway.”

There was a pause in which he heard his wife swallow. 

“Aika,” she tried again after a moment, “I really did try, but you know how hard it is when you’re a Hero-”

Like his wife had stepped on a land-mine, Aika suddenly exploded. 

“I don’t care!” she shouted, and Denki blinked in surprise. “You always say that! You always say it’s because you’re a Hero, but that’s just an excuse! Just go away!”

Aika actually shouting was unusual. It’s not that she never had before, but she was generally the type who brooded. Letting her emotions out like this meant that maybe she’d taken this harder than Denki had expected. 

Kyouka was clearly caught off-guard as well, but she tried to rally. 

“I know you’re upset, Aika, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry... but I just wanted to see you on your birthday-”

“I don’t care!” Aika shouted again, displaying her eight-year-old lack of vocabulary or emotional maturity fully for the world to see. “It was fine when you were gone! Just go back and do your Hero stuff and leave me alone!”

There was another heavy pause here as Kyouka clearly struggled to find a response. Denki vacillated out in the hallway, trying to decide if he should step in or not. Chances were, he’d just make things worse. Aika would probably see his entrance as her father coming to reprimand her and just get even more angry and defensive.

Before he could make up his mind, Aika continued with a sudden, choked, “You being a Hero just makes everything worse! It’s probably better that you weren’t here anyway - otherwise, someone probably would have burned Yaoyorozu’s house down, too!”

Something like dread flooded into Denki’s gut as the mystery behind his daughter’s strange behavior the day before suddenly became clear to him, as well as the bitter realization that he’d made a terrible mistake and his wife was about to pay for it.

Kyouka wasn’t having that same revelation, however, and she responded to her daughter’s strangled declaration with a confused, “W-what? Aika, what are you-?”

“Villains burned grandma and grandpa’s house down!” Aika shouted, as though Kyouka somehow hadn’t known that. Her newly eight-year-old voice was thick with anger and tears, and that made her words somehow all the more damning. “Rai almost died! He almost died and it’s all your fault because you’re a stupid Hero and those dumb Villains wanted to get you back! Why else would they attack us? Just go away already!”

“Aika…!”

“Go away! I hate you!”

To his surprise, and likely to Aika’s as well, Kyouka did just that. 

His wife stumbled out of the door and into the hallway with a look of hurt and confusion on her face, still in her Hero costume because she’d clearly rushed straight there. She closed the door behind her with a snap, and then, seemingly without even seeing her husband in the dark, she turned and walked away. 

Denki watched her go, feeling that oh-so-familiar feeling of guilt welling up inside of him. 

This… This was all his fault. 

He should have told Aika the truth. 

Another peal of thunder shook the house as the storm outside grew in intensity. 

Chapter Text

Denki found his wife sitting alone on the soft white couch of the Todoroki’s sitting room. 

The ground floor of the estate was dark and quiet, even though it was still relatively early in the evening, exhaustion from the party earlier that day driving everyone to their personal sections of the house. Outside, the storm blew on, raindrops pelting the outer walls and windows as the occasional peal of thunder filled the painful quiet of the night with shuddering groans. 

Kyouka was slumped forward, her face in her hands, and in the soft yellow light of the lone lamp she’d illuminated, he could see that she was a mess. Her Hero costume was covered in rips and smudges, clear evidence that she’d come rushing here after getting out of a serious fight. Thankfully, it didn’t look like she’d sustained too many injuries, at least none that weren’t more than surface-level scrapes and abrasions. That is, so long as they were talking about physical injuries. 

The conversation he’d overheard between his wife and daughter had been rough. Aika was young, still - she didn’t fully understand what her mother went through every day, the harm that her words could inflict on a person. Kyouka was well-practiced in affecting that cool, confident persona that encompassed who the Hero Earphone Jack was to the people she saved, but underneath, Denki knew that his wife was riddled with doubts and insecurities. Ever since becoming a mother, it seemed like that had become her greatest weakness. She was always terrified that she wasn’t doing enough for her kids, and after her fight with Aika, it must seem like all of her greatest fears had come true. 

He entered the room quietly, not sneaking in but also not announcing himself. With her hearing, she’d know he was there anyway, but he knew how important it was to give her time. 

As he sat beside her, she straightened up, hastily wiping at her eyes and sniffling. After a moment, she turned and gave him a tremulous smile as though trying to show him that she was alright. 

Wordlessly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a tight hug. 

“She didn’t mean what she said,” he whispered, gently stroking her hair. 

She settled into him without resistance, her head on his shoulder, twisting her body and lifting her legs so that they lay across his lap. For a moment, he almost felt like they were back to the early days of their relationship, when they’d spend lazy evenings together in their apartment watching terrible movies and cuddling on the couch. 

Times were simpler then. Before she’d gone solo. Before they’d had kids. 

Before his father had broken out of jail and screwed everything up. 

He half expected Kyouka to refute his claim, but she didn’t.

Instead, after a minute or so of quiet, she responded with a weak, “I really tried to be here…”

“I know,” he replied, hating how heartbroken she sounded. “This isn’t your fault-”

Here, Kyouka snorted, though it didn’t hold her usual energy. 

“Try telling her that… She thinks I don’t love her.”

Denki shook his head. 

“She’s eight. She doesn’t understand yet, but she will once she’s a little older.”

“I’m always missing everything,” she went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “I missed her first words, her first steps, most of her birthdays, her first day of school… Every important moment of her life, I’ve been off somewhere else, being a Hero. No wonder she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Denki repeated firmly. “She’s just… confused, because of what’s been going on lately.”

He hesitated briefly, because it was hard to say what he was about to, but he knew it was true and so did she, and he owed her an apology. 

Before he could, however, she beat him to it. 

“Denki… I’m sorry.”

He blinked, then turned to stare down at her in confusion. 

“What on earth do you have to apologize to me for?”

The expression on her face gave him pause, however. Her eyes, red-rimmed and sparkling in the lamplight were locked on his with a defeated twist to her lips. 

“This afternoon,” she said softly, holding his gaze, “we got a call from Tokoyami. Some of the other PLF members who escaped with your father had been spotted in a bar just a couple hours west of here. When I heard, even though I knew I’d miss the party, I dropped everything and went to back him up.”

When she’d started talking, when she’d mentioned the men who’d been in the same cell as his father being spotted in public, he’d felt a tiny glimmer of hope spark up inside of him. But as she kept going, the tone of her voice and the expression on her face told him everything he needed to know. 

“...You found them, didn’t you?”

She nodded, swallowing thickly. Well, at least her disheveled appearance finally made sense. But if that was all she had to say, then…

“And… my father…?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. 

“He wasn’t with them.”

Of course not. 

Denki let out a breath, running his free hand through his hair and turning away from his wife so he could direct his frustrated glare at the pictures on the wall. In them, he could see Momo and her parents on her wedding day, everyone smiling, happy just to be with each other. 

Thunder rumbled outside again, loud and furious, making the walls tremble. 

“Did you at least get a lead?” he asked, hoping if nothing else for a silver-lining on what was turning out to be an all-around terrible evening, but as expected, she shook her head. 

“Hagakure and Ojiro are with the police now, and the men are being questioned, but… It sounds like they went their separate ways almost as soon as they escaped. They’re claiming they don’t even know how they got out - something about teleportation? Someone on the outside orchestrated it themselves and they only made it out because they happened to be with Renjirou at the time. It doesn’t sound like we’re going to get very much out of them.”

Denki sighed, fighting down his impatience and frustration. Of course, he wouldn’t be that lucky. He never was. But if not even other PLF members knew where his father was, then… how on earth was Denki going to find him?

Kyouka, who had been quietly watching his face, slowly returned her head to his chest and let her hand tangle up in the front of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I’m just letting down everyone I care about tonight, aren’t I?”

“Stop that,” he murmured, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You know you’re doing your best. This… is my fault.”

He was referring specifically to her fight with Aika, but in a way, that was just as true when talking about his father, no matter what anyone else said. He wasn’t sure how Kyouka was going to react to that; whether she’d deny it out of some sense of marital loyalty or agree because it was true and inadvertently make him feel worse, but he hurried on, not letting her interrupt. 

“I should have talked to her and Rai more after what happened at your parents’ place. If I had gotten her to open up to me, I could have stopped her from coming to the wrong conclusion about the attack. And also… well, I should have told her the truth about my parents back when you first told me my father had escaped from prison. I’m the reason things got so bad.”

The sad thing was, though he knew that was true, he also knew Kyouka wouldn’t stop blaming herself. Her feelings of inadequacy about being a parent had started long before Denki’s father had thrown their life into disarray. 

When he glanced down at his wife again, however, he was surprised to find her smiling up at him sadly. 

“I guess we’re both failures as parents, aren’t we?” she asked, though there was no accusation in her tone, just self-deprecation and commiseration. 

He let out a bark of laughter that was completely devoid of humor and laid his head against the backrest of the couch, staring up at the ceiling as grief and exhaustion assailed him on all sides. 

“...I’ll talk to Aika tomorrow,” he promised softly. “I… I can’t say for sure that she’ll forgive you right away, but…”

She had the right to know who’s fault this really was. If she was going to blame anyone for her mother missing her birthday and her brother almost dying, it should be him. He was the one she should be directing her hate at, not her mother. 

Neither Denki nor Kyouka were staying at the Todoroki estate, though Momo had offered them a guest room in case they ever wanted to stay over with their kids. It was just upstairs. It would be easy to go to, to have some privacy as the two wallowed in their failures. 

Even so, it was several hours before either one of them left the couch. 

His plans to finally sit Aika down and tell her the truth about his family and his past wound up falling the wayside, however, when the next morning he awoke to a request to fill in at his part-time electrician job. 

Obviously, doing that was much less important than being honest with his daughter, but even though he knew he needed to stop running and face the music, the idea of having such a hard conversation with her right after she woke up was more than a little daunting. He figured he’d give himself a couple of hours to build up the courage, and give her some time without parental drama before he let his past mistakes suck her back up again. 

Kyouka had already left before he woke up. She undoubtedly wanted to try and make up her lost time with Aika, but after the fight they’d had, it was probable that Aika wasn’t ready to speak to her yet, and probably wouldn’t be for a while. He had a text on his phone stating that she’d gone to check in on the men they’d apprehended the day before and to see if there were any new developments about his father. 

He’d be lying if he said he was hopeful. The way things were going, nothing short of his father appearing before him on the street one day was going to help them catch him. 

That was part of why he decided to accept the request to fill in today, in spite of the fact that he felt like being a part-time electrician was somewhat demeaning in the face of what he actually wanted to be doing. Him being on the street and serving as bait was honestly the most he could do. He’d thought he’d gotten used to sitting on the sidelines and watching as his friends lived out their dreams as Heroes, but now that it was personal, now that he’d been given permission to help… he wanted to do all that he could. He’d had his fill of being useless. 

The ring Detective Nakamura had given him a few weeks back had remained on his right index finger pretty much ever since. He only ever took it off when he was bathing or washing his hands because he was pretty sure it wasn’t water-proof. Thus far, however, it had been completely useless, and more often than not, he forgot it was even there. 

Even now, as it sparkled under the unrelenting summer sunshine while he fiddled with a series of large fuse boxes outside of a tall apartment complex, it served more as a reminder of his uselessness as bait than anything else. Honestly, thus far, the only thing he’d been able to attract was his sister. Well, and that one attack in the convenience store. Seriously, what was his father doing? He’d spent so much time outside alone or with Emi over the past couple of weeks - why wasn’t he taking the bait?

If his goal was to patiently wait to drive Denki insane, it was working. 

Shortly after noon found Denki trudging his way back to the Todoroki compound, sipping on a mostly-empty bottle of water and idly scanning the streets for an attack that apparently wasn’t coming. He’d had another request to fill in on the other side of town, and he was torn between taking it and spending more time out on the street or getting back to his daughter and telling her the truth. It was odd that a day had finally come where he’d rather go out and work in the unbearable heat than spend time with his kids, but… well, everything was backward nowadays. Why should this be any different?

When Emiko appeared out of nowhere at his side, he was surprised to find that he was not surprised. Had he become so accustomed to her presence over the past week or so that he no longer felt uneasy around her? When had that happened?

“Hey,” she greeted, watching as he replied with a non-verbal nod. “You know, it’s dangerous to go around alone like this.”

“That’s kinda the point, remember?” he responded monotonously, tossing the empty bottle into a nearby trash can.

Emi rolled her eyes. 

“Sure, but that’s why I’m here, right? Two heads are better than one and… however that expression goes, I don’t know.”

“So you’re saying you wanted to come stand around with me and die of heatstroke while I pretend to be an electrician?”

She grimaced. 

“OK, point taken.”

“Besides, how exactly was I supposed to get ahold of you? You just kind of… show up, like a ghost. How do you do that, anyway? Do you have a bug on me?”

He swatted at his hair as a fly whizzed by. Whoa, what timing.

“If I had bugged you,” she replied sarcastically, “it wouldn’t have taken me so long to find you today.”

He grunted, not really having a response to that, and too tired to keep up the conversation. After a few quiet seconds, his sister started talking again. 

“So… How was the party?”

Denki winced. 

“Um… Well, it was fine… at first.”

“At first?”

“Yeah, uh… Kyouka… wasn’t able to make it. She got caught up with her Hero duties, and when she finally did get home, Aika wasn’t…”

“Ah…” Emi replied slowly. “Yeah, that’s gotta suck.”

And then, without even realizing what he was doing, Denki found himself unloading. He told Emi everything, about the fight between his wife and daughter, about Aika’s misunderstanding, about how it was all his fault, and how he was looking forward to a difficult conversation when he finally got home. 

He wasn’t sure at what point he’d suddenly felt comfortable enough around his ex-con of a sister to tell her about his problems. She’d been out of his life for years, and even now, she was still a member of the MLA. Logically, he should still have his guard up around her. He couldn’t be certain, even now, that she wasn’t out to get him. 

And yet… maybe it was because he just desperately needed someone to talk to and his other friends were too busy with their own lives and careers and he didn’t want to be a burden to them. Or maybe it was because spending time with her over the past couple of weeks, exchanging sarcastic quips like they had when they were kids and seeing her spend time with his kids, had managed to break down the walls he had built up within himself. Maybe it was a combination of both. 

All he knew was that having her around felt… right. Like a puzzle piece had fit itself in, partially filling the hole that had been left in his heart after his final betrayal of the PLF. He… wanted to trust her again. He wanted her to be a part of his life. 

And Emi, for her part, didn’t react strangely to her brother confiding in her. Neither her expression nor her body language gave away that she felt like anything was odd in this sudden development. She listened to him, commiserate with his story, and seemed genuinely concerned about Aika. It was almost like the past ten years had never happened and she’d always been there. 

When his story was done, they walked in silence for a bit until Emi let out a soft breath and said, “Man… I wish there was something I could do to cheer her up.”

Denki smirked. “Well, she did invite you to the party which you bailed on - but I get the feeling that you being there wouldn’t have helped in any way, so don’t beat yourself up over it.”

He was mostly kidding, of course - Emi showing up to the party would have been disastrous, and from the look on her face, she clearly agreed. 

“Yeah, no - no going to Pro Hero houses for me, thank you very much. Never again, at least. Still… She’s a sweet kid, I feel kinda bad.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’ll blow over eventually, once I do what I can to make it right.”

“Y’know, I was… I was going to get her a present.”

Denki blinked in surprise, then turned his head only to find Emi awkwardly scratching the side of her cheek in embarrassment, dutifully avoiding his gaze. 

“I just… I mean, she invited me, and she thinks I’m your cousin, so it’s only right. But like, I don’t know what she likes, and her mom is super rich, so she probably has everything a little girl could ever want anyway, so…”

Denki smiled his full thousand-watt smile. 

“She’d like anything you gave her,” he said softly, feeling a strange, unexpected warmth bubbling inside of him. “Though when in doubt, cake is always good. She likes cake. And strawberries.”

“Cake with strawberries…” Emi mumbled. “Ok, that should be easy. Do you think… We can stop somewhere before you go home and I can get some for you to take with you? You don’t have to tell her it’s from me if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

But something about the idea of his sister wanting to buy his daughter a present had Denki far more excited than he’d been expecting. 

“I’ll do you one better - why don’t you give it to her yourself?”

Emi blanched. 

“Um, yeah… no. There’s no way I’m stepping foot inside that building, not when two Pros live there.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, trying to hide his enthusiasm and instead sound reassuring. “I’ll take them out to lunch at a nearby restaurant and you can meet us there. It’ll be fine.”

It was Emi’s turn to look surprised. 

“O-oh, um… Are you sure? I mean, do you really want to take them outside when…?”

She gestured around them as though to say ‘with all of this going on?’, and Denki shrugged. 

“It should be fine if we stick close to the estate and we don’t stay out long. Besides, getting Aika out of that place will probably do her some good, and I can advise the Pros in the area to be on alert in case we need them.”

Emi still looked hesitant, but Denki wasn’t taking no for an answer. About an hour later, after splitting up, rushing back to the Todoroki’s, taking a quick shower, and scooping up his confused-yet-excited kids (who had been going a little stir-crazy being locked up all day), Denki and his family arrived outside of a nearby family-owned-and-operated Soba shop. It also happened to be Shouto’s personal favorite, and Denki still personally believed that they’d built the estate here just because it was nearby.

Emi was already there when they arrived, sitting at an outdoor table beneath a large seasonal umbrella, two small cakes sitting on the table in front of her while she nervously played with the napkin holder. 

Aika was excited and embarrassed to see that Emi was there and had bought her a cake for her birthday, but that didn’t hold a candle to Rai, who had tried to jump-tackle his aunt upon seeing her and had nearly knocked her out of her seat. As it turned out, she’d ended up buying two cakes, because, in her own words, “It felt wrong to buy a present for Aika and leave Rai out.”

She apologized to Aika, clearly afraid she might be upset that she hadn’t been given a present just for her, but Aika didn’t mind. She was too busy inhaling her cake to pay her brother any mind. 

It turned out the kids had already eaten, but Denki and Emiko had not, so he decided they’d have lunch there. The meal was pleasantly rowdy, with Rai gushing over his aunt and making a mess of himself with the cake she’d given him and Aika smiling and happy, all memory of last night’s fight apparently blown away. With any luck, Denki would be able to ride this good humor through to the talk they would have when they got back home. That was the intention, anyway. 

Emi, for her part, still seemed a little nervous and uncomfortable, though not as much as she had been the last time she’d been with the kids. She smiled more readily and responded to each of Rai and Aika’s questions, at least the ones she could answer, yet she kept fidgeting in her seat like she was anxious to hurry and get out of there, and her eyes kept darting up to the passing crowds of pedestrians on the street as though terrified a Pro would pop out of nowhere and grab her. 

It was about a quarter of an hour into their meal that Denki noticed his sister suddenly go stiff as a board, her eyes wide and fearful.

“What is it?” he asked, immediately tense. Emi going rigid like that could mean only one of two things - a Pro was nearby, or she’d spotted somebody she recognized from the PLF. And since he’d been dumb enough to bring his kids out here, one of those options was clearly bad news. 

She didn’t answer immediately. Though his sister’s eyes were locked on something in the passing crowd, though her body had gone rigid with apprehension and fear, the look on her face… For once, Denki was having a hard time reading it. She almost looked… reluctant. 

“I… I-it’s just…” Emi swallowed, jerking her eyes down and giving her head a rough shake as though arguing with herself. “Across the street. Th-there’s a woman with red hair. Her name is Hotaru Ueda, and… she’s with the PLF.”

Denki sat up straighter, trying to peer across the street through the crowds of pedestrians and the passing traffic. It was tough, but he thought he could see a middle-aged woman with a vulpine face and red hair tied back in a bun. 

PLF, huh… He didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t mean anything. It had been a long time since he’d left their ranks, and it’s not like he knew everyone. 

The sight of her there on the street, however, had his palms itching. The escaped prisoners from his father’s cell had known nothing, but they were in a different city. A PLF member here, where he lived, was much more likely to know about his father’s whereabouts… 

The smart thing to do would be to pull out his phone and call Kyouka or one of his other friends. Pass the description, get the word out. The problem was, she could easily get away in that time. After all, the last time he’d seen a PLF member on the street and sent a Pro after them, they had escaped. But Denki was here, looking right at her. He knew it wasn’t right, he knew it was a crime, but… 

If Denki managed to apprehend her and she knew anything about his father, then he could finally bring this to a close. He could finally be useful. Be a Hero, for once in his life - even if it landed him in hot water with the police. As long as his kids were safe again, who the hell cared?

But Emi wasn’t finished speaking yet, and her next sentence drove all concept of rational thought from his mind. 

“...She has a Quirk that lets her manipulate fire.”

Denki was on his feet before he even realized he’d stood up. Every cell in his body was suddenly alive as though surging with electricity, though he’d yet to activate his Quirk. 

Manipulate fire? The memory of his in-laws' house up in flames, of Emi jumping through the window, of Rai unconscious on that hospital bed, flickered through his mind like the world’s most haunting slide show, and all at once, Denki found himself consumed by a dark, ravenous rage. 

That woman had tried to kill his children. 

“...Dad?”

He turned back briefly to glance at his daughter, his movements feeling oddly stiff and jerky, to find her staring up at him with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. 

“Where are you…?”

He tried to smile, he really did. But from the way Aika leaned away, it was evident that he hadn’t succeeded. Instead, he reached out a hand to pat her on the head consolingly, and as he did, he noticed the silver ring on his index finger. 

Of course. Detective Nakamura’s bug. It was supposed to help him call for help if he spotted his father or was captured by him, but it was also a way for the police to monitor his actions if he ever decided to let loose with his Quirk while out in public. 

It would only get in the way of what he was about to do. 

“I’ll be right back, kids,” he said, addressing the table at large, ignoring Aika’s evident fear and Emi’s apparent confliction and Rai’s consistent obliviousness. “Stay here with Emi.”

“But dad-!”

“Here, Aika - hold onto this for me, ok?”

He slipped the ring off of his finger and handed it to his confused daughter, who stared at it like she’d never seen a ring before in her life. 

“...What is this?”

“Just a keepsake,” he replied, fully aware of how stiff and unnatural his tone sounded. “Hold onto it until I come back.”

That Hotaru woman was getting farther and farther away. He needed to leave, now. 

“D-Denki, wait!” Emiko suddenly shouted as Denki stepped off of the curb and into the street, heedless of the traffic. “M-maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“Just watch them for me, Emi.” 

And without a backward glance, he was off. 

Cars honked and swerved dangerously as he raced across the busy street, but he paid them no mind, the sound of his heart thundering angrily in his ears driving out all other noise. People shouted as he reached the sidewalk on the other side and began shoving through them in the direction the fox-faced woman had disappeared. He hardly noticed them, seeing instead a house in flames and his son in the hospital and his wife crying on the couch and all the ways he’d let his family down over the past month. 

If he could catch that woman, this could all end. After all, if she was the one who had burned his in-laws' house down, then she had to be working with his father. This was the closest they’d been to a lead since the breakout, and Denki was their best shot at catching her. 

This was his moment. This is what he’d been waiting for. 

He rounded the corner he thought he’d seen her turn down, but though the crowds were thinner here, he saw no sign of her. Assuming she didn’t enter a building, then her nearest turn would be down another street about a kilometer ahead. Denki raced for it, heart in his throat, rounding the corner, sweaty and panting, to see she wasn’t there either - but there was another turn not too far ahead, leading to what he could only assume was another alleyway. 

Feeling emboldened, trusting that if she’d caught sight of him, if she’d appeared there on the street specifically to lure him away, that she’d have chosen just such a spot to lay a trap and thus that must be where she was. He hurried on, slower now, more cautious, ready for anything, expecting flames to leap up out of the ground and surround him at any moment. 

Instead, as he rounded the corner into the little dingy alley behind an office building and an abandoned ramen shop, he found his mysterious adversary merely standing there in the center of the street, waiting for him. 

She smiled when she saw him, a full-lipped toothy beam that reminded him of a fox that had just cornered the duck it meant to eat for breakfast. 

“Well now,” she drawled, her voice low and pretentious, “I can’t believe you actually fell for that. For one of the most famous traitors alive, you’re surprisingly stupid.”

If she was trying to bait him, she needn’t have bothered. Just the sight of her standing there helpless and alone was enough to make Denki want to let loose with all of the electricity he’d stored up inside of him. 

In fact, he prepared to do just that. Wordlessly, he stepped forward, lifting his hand, letting lightning crackle ominously in his palm. It would be quick, but it wouldn’t be painless. Not after what she’d done to Raidin. He only prayed that this burned her. She deserved that at least. 

She glanced at his hand then scoffed. 

“Yes, yes, I know perfectly well you can zap me unconscious in no time. I”m really no match for you. But then, if you knock me out now, you won’t be able to hear what I have to say. And something tells me you might just regret that.”

“You can talk behind bars,” he growled menacingly, taking another step forward. 

“When?” she shot back. “In a few hours? After I’ve been arrested, taken to the hospital to treat my wounds, and then shuttled off to a jail cell to await my trial? I’m afraid you don’t have hours, Denki Kaminari. In fact, you’ve run out of time already.”

“The hell are you on about?” he asked in spite of himself, and she smiled again, all pointy teeth and smug satisfaction. 

“You truly are surprisingly stupid,” she continued, clearly relishing the moment. “From the way Renjirou talks about you, from the way the entire Metahuman Liberation Army curses your name, you’d think you were this cunning genius. And yet you willingly took your children out on the street again today, after they’d been targeted more than once by villains. And even more than that, you left them alone with a known PLF member. Honestly, at this point, you only have yourself to blame for what’s about to happen to them.”

Denki’s entire body had gone rigid at the mention of his kids and his sister. She was right, he had chosen to leave them with Emiko so he could chase her down, but… Emiko wasn’t… she wasn’t… 

She’d saved Rai from that burning building. She’d warned them about the trap the other day. She… She’d bought Aika a birthday present… She couldn’t be…

Without even thinking, he turned back, as if he could verify by looking, as if he could peer through the solid walls surrounding him back towards the restaurant he’d left his kids at and see that they were safe. Below him, the ground quaked, and Hotaru’s mocking laughter was suddenly swallowed by the sound of shifting gravel. 

When he turned back, Hotaru was gone, leaving nothing behind to show she’d been there at all save for a pile of overturned asphalt. 

What? Had she… disappeared underground? But her Quirk had been fire-related, hadn’t it? Unless she’d had backup. Unless Emi had been lying. Unless this was all part of a larger trap and he’d left his kids unprotected on the side of the street. 

All of the rage and righteous fury he’d been feeling early had vanished, leaving him feeling raw and cold inside. His kids were in danger. He needed to move. 

His frantic race back through the city was a short one, but every step seemed to last an hour and every street stretched on infinitely before him. With every thud of his heart, he cursed his name. With every ragged breath, he screamed at himself to move faster. 

Denki was no stranger to fear. But there was a difference between being scared, and feeling a terror so profound you convince yourself the very world is about to end. Denki had felt that fear many times before; when he’d betrayed UA, when he met Kyouka in the woods, during that last battle with the PLF, when he’d seen that house in flames and learned his son was trapped inside. 

Right now, he was feeling that same all-consuming terror coursing through his body, ripping through his psyche like water bursting free from a dam - a metaphor he was all too familiar with. A metaphor that called to mind memories of events and a loss too painful to face right now, particularly since it seemed like he was about to go through it all over again.

This was all his fault. Again. If he hadn’t been so angry… if he hadn’t been possessed by the need to prove that he wasn’t useless…! His selfishness and anger and pride had allowed him to put his children in peril, and for what? So he could pat himself on the back? So he could feel like a Hero, like the rest of his friends, for once in his pathetic life? 

Finally, he was back on the main road, racing once more across the street, heedless of the passing cars and the angry shouts of their drivers. His eyes were glued to the restaurant across the way, but even before he’d begun crossing the street, his eyes had revealed the truth. 

They were gone. 

Denki jumped over the curb and crashed into the table they’d been sitting at, where their food was still sitting, half-eaten. His lungs were burning, his eyes were streaming with tears of anger and grief and fear. 

“Aika!” he shouted, his voice coming out rough and guttural, twisting around and staring up and down the street as though he might see them there, standing with their aunt. 

People around him were staring, confused and fearful. 

“Raidin!” he tried again, knowing it was useless, knowing no one would answer. 

The restaurant owner stepped out of the building, looking at him askance and waiving over a passing police officer. 

Denki sunk to his knees, his entire body shaking as despair rose like bile in his esophagus. 

“Emiko!”

That last call wasn’t a call of desperation, but a shout of fury and rage. 

She’d taken his children. She’d taken them away. 

He’d let himself think he could trust her in spite of everything. Because he was an idiot. Because deep down, he’d desperately wanted her back in his life. He wanted his little sister back. He wanted to believe that she could bring herself to forgive him. 

Because maybe then, he could start forgiving himself. 

The cop was at his side now, together with the restaurant owner. Both were speaking, but their words were lost to him as he drowned beneath the overpowering weight of his own despair. 

Chapter Text

Deika was in flames. 

The Hero attack had come as a surprise to everybody - Denki included, even though he’d been the one who had sent off the message the day before. 

After watching Kouda’s pigeons fly away, he’d waited around anxiously for the next few hours, wondering if he’d get a response back, wondering if maybe Jirou would try to contact him over the earpiece she’d left him, wondering if anyone was going to clue him in on what the next step would be… but no. After sending off the message that marked the second life-changing betrayal he had made in his young life, he was left to stew alone in a pool of fear and anxiety and desperation as his friends and the other Pros took his information and, hopefully, set about coming up with a plan to finally bring Shigaraki to justice. 

And after a fitful, sleepless night, Denki arose the next morning to find nothing amiss. No messages, no pigeons on the roof, no signs of an impending attack. Everything was fine. 

His father had gone off to his makeshift job, guarding and inventorying one of Re-Destro’s warehouses. Emi, who didn’t have a mission that day, was to receive training from one of the higher-ups over on the east side of the city. And his mother, who was taken off of duty after losing her kidney in the attack a couple months back, stayed home and looked after the house. 

Denki spent the day up on the roof, waiting for a message that never came. Doubts assailed him on all sides as the hours slowly trickled by. Had the Pros even received his message? Had the pigeons been apprehended, or maybe just… killed by predators or… whatever else could happen to random birds as they flew across the country? How long did they have to wait until Shigaraki disappeared again? Most of the PLF and League members were here now - if they missed this chance, how long would they have to wait for the next one? 

And then, after night fell, as the city was beginning to calm and the residents, terrorists though they may be, began to settle in under a sleepy, starry sky, it happened. 

An explosion rent the air. 

Denki, who had still been on the roof, unable and unwilling to leave his post, was jerked out of his stupor with a startled yelp. The sound had come from the south, and even as he peered over the railing past other buildings and the tops of trees, he could see the tell-tale glow slowly beginning to spread across the horizon, illuminating the sky an ominous orange. 

The city was on fire.

The Heroes had arrived. 

By the time Denki reached the streets, everything was already in chaos. In the PLF, every able-bodied citizen was considered a soldier, even if they didn’t regularly fight on the front lines, and the horror of that ideal was put onto full display as he ran frantically through the city. This wasn’t just a raid, not just a clash between Villains and Heroes. This was open warfare. 

Pros and their sidekicks were everywhere, grouped with clusters of police officers or heading off on their own, engaging in battle with the surprised and furious forces of the PLF. Under that dark sky, he saw his neighbors, the elderly, even teenagers and a handful of what had to be children, screaming in defiance, using their Quirks to hurl balls of flame or shards of ice or whatever random thing their Quirks could do at the Pros. He saw Pros doing their best to restrain and subdue, and occasionally failing, either falling to the attacks or else felling an adversary in turn. He saw death and destruction rain down upon his hometown of Deika as the sky glowed red with the light that heralded the potential end of this endless nightmare. 

The worst night of Denki’s life had only just begun, however. As horrifying as the visions of the battle that wracked the streets of Deika were, things were only going to get worse. 

If only he’d known, then. He might have been able to prevent what was still to come. 

At first, he was able to make his way through the streets without too much trouble; the chaos made it easier to hide than he had first suspected. But he knew as he raced southward towards where the attack had started that the closer he drew to the Pros and the police, the more likely it was that he was going to be singled out and attacked. 

And that was precisely what happened. As he raced across a parking lot, something caught him by the ankle, tripping him and sending him crashing to the ground, leaving burning scratches across his chin and palms. 

“Who are you?!”

Something tickled at the back of Denki’s head, a sensation of familiarity, urging him not to respond. Breathless, Denki struggled to turn himself over, fighting against the familiar cloth that had bound itself around his lower legs. 

The Hero loomed over him ominously, a dark mask obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, “...Kaminari?”

Denki blinked, squinting up through the darkness at the taller male standing over him. 

“Shinso?”

The dead-eyed ex-classmate let out a sigh and stooped down to untie Denki’s feet. 

“Damn it, what the hell are you doing running around in the open like that? Are you trying to get killed?”

“Thanks,” Denki replied once his feet were finally free, choosing to ignore the previous comment as he pushed himself back onto his feet. “What’s going on? I haven’t heard a thing since-”

But Shinso held up his hand, cutting him off and casting a wary look around them. 

“Not really the best place to talk. And of course we didn’t tell you; what if the message had been intercepted?”

Well, he had a point there. About both things. Still, he didn’t have to sound so exasperated. 

“Look, just hurry up and make your way to the south end of the city. We have a few forward bases set up there. You can stay there until this is over-”

He cut off as a massive explosion shook the city. A veritable mushroom-cloud of flame lit up the sky to the north-east, casting the world briefly in a dim orange glow.

“What the hell…?” Denki breathed, horrified. 

“It’s him,” Shinso cursed, “it’s gotta be. Shigaraki. Midoriya and Bakugou are supposed to be dealing with him.”

Denki stared, wide-eyed. Midoriya and Bakugou? Just the two of them?!

“Shigaraki’s got some kind of a grudge against Midoriya,” Shinso replied after Denki asked. “He was going to seek him out anyway; may as well keep him occupied while we try to clean up the rest - but we seriously don’t have time to talk. Get out of here while you can, Kaminari.”

And just like that, Shinso was racing off towards the heart of Deika, leaving Denki frightened and alone. 

To the south, he’d said. Maybe he’d find more of his friends there. 

As he ran, his thoughts turned to his family. Emi had been over to the east earlier today. Neither she nor their father had returned home before the attack started. Hopefully, she hadn’t been too close to Shigaraki when the fight started, but… she was a smart girl. She’d know to stand down once the Pros caught her. 

His father had been in the north-west, near one of Re-Destro’s warehouses. He wasn’t much of a fighter himself; he’d be clever enough to stand down too. Or so he hoped. 

It was his mother that really had him concerned. She’d been home with him when the attack started. He should have checked on her before he left, but once he’d noticed that part of the city was in flames and that the Heroes had actually arrived, it had completely slipped his mind. She wasn’t a match for the Pros. Hopefully, she’d notice the fire and flee. Hopefully. 

Though if there was any member of their family dumb enough to try to fight this army of Heroes head-on, it was his mother. 

It took a few minutes, but after a while, Denki managed to bump into another group of Pros. He didn’t recognize these ones, but Shinso had apparently sent word back via radio, and they knew he was coming. One of them broke off to escort him, and before long, he was stumbling his way into one of the Heroes’ makeshift base of operations, feeling out of breath and out of place. 

He spotted Jirou and Yaoyorozu immediately and felt some of the tension he was feeling melt away. 

His friends were here. Things were going to be ok. 

However, from the loud, frantic conversation they were having with a handful of other Pros, including one he recognized as the Magic Hero, Majestic, whom Yaoyorozu had interned with in the past, things were not going well. 

“...at the same time!” Yaomomo was shouting. “He’s strong, but he’s not that strong! If we don’t send him support, he’s not going to make it to backup Midoriya and Bakugou in time!”

“And who do you suggest we send?!” Majestic shot back, exasperated, the scarves wrapped around his floppy-brimmed witches hat flapping agitatedly in the breeze. “We’re stretched thin as it is - most of our forces are focused on suppressing Gigantomachia! If he slips by, we can kiss this entire operation goodbye!”

“What’s going on?” Denki asked, breaking into the conversation without even so much as a ‘hello’. 

The others turned to look at him, and when Jirou saw him, her expression went from anxious to relieved in the blink of an eye. A second later, she’d grabbed him in a quick, tight hug. 

“Oh, good…” she breathed. “I’m so glad you’re ok.”

“Me too,” he said, trying to joke but fully aware that it came out as the absolute truth. “What’s this about Machia?”

Majestic, who had been examining the newcomer with apparent consternation, suddenly frowned. 

“Ah. You’re him, aren’t you? The traitor?”

Denki swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable, but nodded. Well, he wasn’t wrong. No sense in playing pretend. 

“Good,” the older Pro went on. “Then maybe you can help. How familiar are you with the layout of the city? Do you know of the hydroelectric dam situated up to the north?”

“Uh, yes,” Denki said, suddenly confused; he’d assumed the man was going to dismiss him out of hand. “And I know the city fairly well, but why does it matter where the dam is?”

“It’s Machia,” Jirou supplied. “We’ve got most of our force trying to hold him back and prevent him from arriving to backup Shigaraki. But he’s too powerful for us to take down on our own, so we’re planning on blowing the dam to send the full force of the river crashing down on him. Hopefully, that will be enough.”

It took Denki a couple of seconds to fully process what she was saying. 

Then he rounded on her. 

“Wait, what?! Blow the dam? If you blow the dam, you’ll catch half the city in the flood! Thousands of people could die!”

“We know,” Majestic cut in, both his tone and expression somber. “We fully realize how risky this move is. That’s why we have so many Heroes out right now, trying to capture and subdue as many as we can before the dam blows. That’s also why we set these fires; to try to drive people out of the city while we can. We risk letting many PLF and League members escape in the process, but our real focus today is Shigaraki and Machia. The others can be rounded up afterward.”

Well, he certainly had a point; as bad as it would be to let potentially hundreds of villains escape, Shigaraki and Machia were on a whole different level. They were less ‘villains’ and more sentient, walking natural disasters. If they could stop even just one today, then it would be a tremendous victory, no matter the casualties they sustained. 

“Ok,” Denki said slowly, trying to come to terms with the fact that they were about to flood half of an entire city. “So what’s the problem?”

“We’re having a hard time placing the charges,” Majestic replied succinctly. “We knew it would be tough, so we sent out a few different Pros with just that task in mind, but so far, we haven’t had any luck. There are more PLF members guarding the dam than we had anticipated. And if we don’t hurry, Machia is going to break free and all will be lost. That’s why I was hoping you knew of another path-”

“That isn’t the only problem!” Yaoyorozu cut in, sounding furious and completely unlike herself. “Machia is the biggest threat, but if Todoroki falls to Dabi and Geten and they go to back Shigaraki up, then we’ll be in the same boat!”

“Creati, we do not have time to go over this again!” Majestic shouted, sounding weirdly parental; just how long had Momo interned with him? “Todoroki is going to have to do his best to hold out, just like the rest of us! The dam must come first, and you are the only person left who we can send!”

“I can go-!” 

“You are needed here, Earphone Jack, as you well know! There are simply no other options! The two of you need to put your own personal feelings behind you and focus on the mission! That is what it means to be a Pro!”

Both girls looked down, chastised and, in Yaomomo’s case, distraught. 

It made sense that they were having such a hard time getting to the dam. The members of the PLF weren’t just zealous terrorists, they were soldiers. They’d had more than one strategy meeting about defending the city from potential attack, and the dam had long-since been identified as a potential target. They knew to prioritize its defense. It would take a special skillset to break through those defenses without considerable time or manpower. 

Denki cleared his throat roughly. 

“Um… actually, there is another option.”

All three turned to stare at him expectantly, so he did his best to stand up straight and square his shoulders, struggling not to let his overwhelming fear show on his face. 

“I can go. The PLF doesn’t know yet that I betrayed them, so they won’t attack me if I get close to the dam. I can place the charges, and-” he fished the earpiece Jirou had given him out of his pocket and pushed it into his ear “-I can radio in to Earphone Jack once I’m done.”

Majestic had a considering look on his face. Yaomomo looked torn between concern for Denki and hope that she’d be allowed to rush to Todoroki’s aid. Jirou’s expression was tight and shuttered, displaying nothing. 

Finally, Majestic relented. 

“...Yes, that might actually work. But you will need to hurry. Creati, use your Quirk to make a new set of charges and give them to Kaminari - and a detonator too, just in case something happens to the base while he’s out. Kaminari, you will need to be fast. Every second counts. As soon as you place the charges, let us know and get out of there. We’ll give you as long as we can.”

And just like that, the fate of this operation was placed squarely into Denki’s hands. 

Momo made the charges, as well as a cloth sack to carry them in and a small remote detonator that he placed in his pocket, then rushed off without another word. Majestic was already back marshaling the troops. It was just him and Jirou. 

Not knowing what to say, Denki flashed her an awkward smile and made to step away, only to stop as she reached out and caught his arm. 

“Be careful,” she said softly, gazing imploringly into his eyes. “If they find out that you’ve betrayed them, they’ll come after you. Just don’t draw any attention to yourself and you’ll be fine. And… hurry. Kirishima, Tokoyami, Mina, Mineta… most of our class is trying to hold Machia back. They’re buying time for you. Make it count.”

Denki blanched. 

Holding him back? You can’t hold Machia back, he was a force of nature - a volcanic eruption wrapped up in an earthquake wrapped up in a hurricane. His friends weren’t buying him time - they were playing a twisted game where a veritable god could kill them at any second and their only hope of survival was Denki blowing a dam and potentially killing hundreds of people. 

He felt like he was going to be sick. 

He stumbled away from Jirou, desperately trying to fight down the sudden, overpowering wave of nausea as he considered the task he’d been given as well as the fact that it could take him an hour if not more to walk all the way to the hydroelectric dam. His friends couldn’t last that long against Machia. He honestly doubted Midoriya or Bakugou could last that long against Shigaraki either. They were already doomed - why had he volunteered?!

But then one of Majestic’s sidekicks who apparently had a flying Quirk stepped up and, without even so much as a warning, seized him under his arms and took off into the sky. 

The Pro, whoever she was, took a long, circuitous route along the outskirts of the city, avoiding the central parts where most of the fighting was happening. They kept low, utilizing buildings and trees to stay hidden, and as he watched the world slip past, Denki focused on calming himself. 

He knew sending off that last messenger pigeon wasn’t going to be the end of it. If his friends were out there risking their lives to save the world, then he couldn’t do any less. Plant the charges, send word to Jirou, save the day. That was it. 

Compared to facing off against Machia or Dabi and Geten or Shigaraki himself, he clearly had the safest job of the bunch. That didn’t make him feel any less anxious. 

Static crackled in his ear, followed by a voice. 

“Kaminari, can you hear me?”

It was Jirou, speaking through the headset.

“Yeah,” he replied, trying not to shout over the rush of wind as his Pro Hero taxi shuttled him through the air. “How’s it going?”

He was trying not to ask specifically about their classmates fighting Machia, but as always, Jirou could see right through him. 

“They’re still going,” she replied tersely, hiding her fear behind a veneer of cold professionalism. “Creati hasn’t made it to Shouto yet, and I have no idea what’s going on with Shigaraki. It’s hard to keep track of the battle, but it looks like a majority of the eastern part of the city has been completely disintegrated.”

“What?” Denki gasped, sudden terror filling his heart. Emiko had been in the eastern part of the city… 

No, he didn’t have time to focus on that now. She was smart; she would have gotten out. 

“Don’t worry,” Jirou said, completely missing the reason for his fear. “Midoriya and Bakugou are still fighting. Just focus on placing those charges once you get to the dam. Just place them as spread out as you can along the west side; we’ve already sent other Heroes to plant them along the east side. Even if we can’t blow the whole thing, a few good cracks should cause it to burst from the force of the water pressure alone. Our friends are keeping Machia in the center of the city for now; the water should rush down towards him and slow him down; after that, Mudman is going to use his Quirk to pull his lower-half underground. Together, that should be able to stop him.”

Mudman? From class 1-B? Denki shuddered. 

Even if it was Machia they were talking about, being smothered by dirt and water sounded absolutely nightmarish. Still, even with all of that combined… Machia was something else. Impossible as it sounded, Denki could see that monstrous titan surviving - but if it was enough to delay him from getting to Shigaraki, then it would be worth it.

The dam was large. Denki could see it sometimes from the city if he had been in a high enough location, though he knew that, comparatively, there were certainly larger dams in Japan. It was basically a large wall, slightly curved and the dark grey of old concrete, stretched between two hilltops that stopped up the river that flowed through the center of Deika. The reservoir behind it was enormous, like a large crystalline lake, and out of a few holes in the face of the dark pitted stone, water poured out like a waterfall, crashing down in cascading waves that filled the air with a gentle roar. 

If he was being honest with himself, over a decade of schooling had completely failed him in this regard. He had no idea how a hydroelectric dam even worked. It probably had something to do with the water that was allowed to flow through the dam and continue on along the river, but… Exactly what that meant, he had no idea. Come to think of it, how did people build these things anyway? Even without Quirks, humanity could be scarily impressive at times. 

The top of the dam had railings, indicating that it was possible to walk along the top of it. There were a few structures along the top as well… watchtowers? He didn’t think normal dams had watchtowers. They must have been put in place by the PLF when they decided that the dam needed to be guarded in the event of an attack. 

There was also a bridge stretching across the face of the dam. It was covered and sported thick cement walls, making it more like an over-ground tunnel than a bridge. Clearly, it was meant to let people cross from one side to the other, though it didn’t look heavily trafficked. It was probably meant more for those who worked at the dam than actual pedestrians. 

Now, however, it was covered in PLF soldiers. It was hard to say how many exactly in the darkness, but if he had to guess, he’d say somewhere in the vicinity of fifty, with a few hundred more engaging Heroes and Pros in the surrounding city and the woods the stretched out to the west. It was absolute chaos down below. No wonder the other Heroes were having a hard time getting close. 

Just as he was beginning to wonder how he’d get past the battle and reach the dam, projectiles of some sort (knives? He couldn’t tell) burst out of the woods below, landing a glancing blow on the arm of the Hero carrying him. It wasn’t enough to kill her, thankfully, but it was bad enough that she dropped him. 

He fell about three meters, his hoarse shout cutting out with a pained grunt as he landed on his feet and collapsed instantly to the ground, the cloth sack of explosives tumbling out of his hand. 

He sat there in the dark for a moment, his fingers clenched around fistfuls of cool earth as he let the shockwaves of pain work their way through his body. That had seriously hurt. Knowing his luck, he’d probably broken one or both of his ankles. Great, that was exactly what he needed right now…

Figures approached him out of the darkness. Members of the PLF, the ones who had knocked him out of the sky. They had him surrounded, and with the cover of darkness, with him in his pained state, he knew this was it. He threw an arm up over his face protectively and tried to cry out, but before he could, a voice interrupted. 

“See? I told you that was Kaminari!”

Denki blinked his eyes back open in surprise, glancing around, pupils still not quite adjusted to the added darkness provided by the cover of the trees around him. 

One of the PLF members, presumably the one who had spoken, reached a hand out toward him and, after Denki examined it for a cautious moment, hauled Denki to his feet. 

“We saw you being carried off by that Pro. Good thing we had your back, eh?”

From his tone of voice, he was going for some sort of congenial vibe, but if Denki were being honest, he barely recognized the man… boy? He can’t have been older than Denki was. Come to think of it, he thought they’d been paired up on a few raiding missions in the past, but Denki was having a hard time putting a name to the face. 

Or maybe he’d never bothered with memorizing it because he hadn’t wanted to make any more friends he might one day find himself fighting against. 

Still, he thanked the nameless boy, easily slipping into the excuse he’d unwittingly prepared for him. For a moment there, he thought his cover had been blown. Good thing no one thought to ask why Denki hadn’t just zapped the Pro if he’d really been being abducted, but in the midst of a battle, they probably just weren’t thinking straight. 

Right as he was beginning to wonder how he was going to break away from the newcomers, the surrounding battle caught up with them, and the woods were suddenly alive with the chaotic sound of battle as Heroes and the police descended upon their impromptu gathering. 

Praising his lucky stars once again, Denki bent over, snatched up the dropped sack of Yaoyorozu’s explosives, and raced off as quickly as he could on his injured legs towards the distant dam. 

He wasn’t too far away at this point. It only took a couple of minutes to get there, and it was easy to find in the darkness both because it was the center of a large battle and also because large floodlights on top of the watchtowers kept the area well illuminated. 

Now came the hardest part. Placing the charges. 

In actuality, this wasn’t that hard. The charges themselves came with an adhesive goop on the back that, after removing a protective plastic lining (seriously, how did Yaomomo make this? Her Quirk made his brain hurt just thinking about), would allow it to be stuck to the outside of the dam by simply pressing the goop against it for a moment. 

The charges themselves were thin and round, about half the size of a frisbee, and fit fairly well in his hand if he spread his fingers out. Dashing through the battle, desperate not to get caught up in a struggle lest either side attack him and knowing he didn’t have time to dawdle, Denki made for the tunnel-like-bridge that stretched across the face of the dam. 

There were only six charges in the bag. Kyouka had said only to bother with the east side. He’d need to make this fast. 

The bridge was built right up against the outer wall of the dam. He could just place the charges inside. They were small, without any blinking lights or any other giveaway. They shouldn’t be noticed. This would work. It had to. 

He managed to place four charges without incident. Then, as he was placing the fifth, he was finally noticed. 

Someone charged into the tunnel - Hero, Villain, Denki had no idea - and spotted him crouched down, trying to affix the fifth charge onto the wall. 

The newcomer charged with a roar, his forearms suddenly expanding outward, growing into heavy, meaty, hairy gorilla fists. He pulled his arm back to deliver a powerful, skull-shattering blow to Denki’s face. 

Denki threw himself back, dropping the sack with the last charge, just barely dodging the blow and rolling not-so-nimbly back to his feet. His ankles throbbed in painful protest at the sudden excitable movement. In front of him, the stranger pushed himself away from the wall, breathing heavily through his nostrils like a boar, and charged him again. 

This time, Denki didn’t try to dodge. Instead, conscientious of the tiny explosives he’d lined the corridor with earlier, he decided to forego his normal Indiscriminate Shock and instead fell back into a familiar martial arts stance. He’d never been as good as Ojirou or Kirishima in terms of sheer skill or physical strength, but he’d taken up lessons anyway. Much like his classmate Uraraka, his Quirk had unique properties upon physical contact that more than made up for his lack of skill or strength. 

As the gorilla-armed man sent a second punch flying for his face, Denk reached out, grabbed the arm as though he were going to try and turn the arm away, and instead sent all the electricity he could muster coursing through his adversary’s body. 

His body went rigid, all of his muscles locking up, and a moment later, he’d collapsed onto the ground, unconscious. 

Denki stepped back with a short breath of relief. He hoped that hadn’t been too much electricity; it could be hard to gauge when his opponent’s Quirk changed his body mass. 

Hurrying forward, leaving the slightly smoking body behind him, Denki scooped up the bag and made to place his last charge. 

A group of people suddenly charged into the tunnel from the other side, barreling towards him. One of them saw him, pointing a hand and firing off what could only be described as some sort of astral fist projectile. 

These ones Denki recognized as being PLF members. Ones who had never liked him much, though he liked to think that that fact didn’t impact what he did next in any way. 

Without thinking, he drew the last explosive from the bag and threw it forward like a frisbee, watching as it soared through the air, ricocheting off the wall in the direction of the newcomers. 

Then, as though he were using his old Pointer and Shooter, Denki charged up his electricity and fired. 

His Quirk focused in on the metal explosive like it was a magnet. It caught the disk in the air in the blink of an eye, and a moment later, an explosion split the air, popping Denki’s ears and filling the tunnel in a dense wall of smoke. 

When it cleared enough to see, Denki was greeted with the sight of a good chunk of the tunnel missing, the path dead-ending into the open air. His foes were nowhere to be seen. 

Ignoring the fact that he may have just killed some people, knowing that his mission would save more lives than he’d just taken and trying to not let it affect him, he stooped down, seized the unconscious gorilla man, and hurriedly hauled him out of the tunnel back the way he’d come. 

He only managed to place five of the six charges… hopefully, that would be enough. It would have to be. He couldn’t exactly go back for more, now could he?

The battle outside had seemingly not changed at all. Denki threw the unconscious man’s arm over his shoulder and struggled to haul him away without getting caught up in another fight. Thankfully, most seemed to ignore him. Maybe it was because he wasn’t trying to attack anyone. Maybe it’s because both sides sympathized with the downed fighter. He had no way of knowing, he just knew he couldn’t leave this man unconscious in front of a dam that was about to blow, even if it did turn out that he was a PLF member. 

Several minutes later, he’d made his way back to the wooded area where he’d crash-landed before. This should be far enough from the dam. The distant sound of thunder rumbled across the air, spurring an odd sense of hope for a spur-of-the-moment shower to cool him off a bit. 

Denki dropped his heavy burden unsympathetically onto the cold dirt floor, collapsing back against a tree, feeling like he’d just done the UA Sports Festival obstacle course all over again. Lifting a tired hand up to his ear, he fiddled with the earpiece Jirou had given him and closed his eyes. 

“I’m out!” he gasped, clutching the stitch in his chest and trying not to wheeze too loudly. “Jirou, can you hear me? I’m out! I placed the charges! We’re good! Tell the Heroes to get out of there!”

There was a crackle of static, and then nothing. 

Panting, Denki sagged to the ground, back still against the tree, and struggled to take control of his breathing, mentally willing his heartbeat to slow down. There was no need to be concerned - Jirou was busy, she had more people to talk to than just him. Besides, he wasn’t the only one sent to place the charges. She probably needed to check on everyone first before deciding to-

The static came back, followed by Jirou’s voice. And she sounded panicked. 

“Kaminari! We have a problem!”

He groaned internally. Of course they did. 

“Hagakure wasn’t able to place her charges on the other side of the dam. Someone with a powerful Quirk showed up and they’re driving everyone back - friends and foes. Where are you? Are you safe? Did you get away?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, turning around and slowly making his way back toward the edge of the treeline so he could see the dam clearly again. “Someone new showed up? Who?”

They were driving away friends and foes? But who? Why? That didn’t make any sense. 

“We don’t know,” Jirou continued. “We’ve never seen this Quirk before. It’s like… a mass of clouds just surrounded the entire dam and it’s shooting lightning at anyone who gets close. Still, if you planted your charges, then we should still be good. We don’t really have time to waste anymore-”

But that was where Denki stopped listening. He’d finally broken through the treeline and could see the dam again - or what should have been the dam. In its place was a massive wall of dark thunderclouds. The deep rumble of thunder shook the earth beneath him as the occasional spark of silvery lightning lit up the mass of black in flashes of ghostly light. 

The clouds were darker than he remembered. Larger, too, covering way more ground than he’d ever seen before. But he would recognize his mother’s Quirk anywhere. 

She was here. She’d left the house and had come straight here. A loyal soldier heading to her post.

To the dam they were about to blow up.

Frantic, he raised his hand to his earpiece and yelled, “Stop!”

“W-what? What’s wrong?!”

Jirou sounded equal parts exasperated and scared. Denki swallowed, struggling to regain control over himself. 

“Don’t blow the dam yet; give me some time. I need to go back.”

“You what?!”

In his mind’s eye, he saw his friends fighting Machia, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu fighting Dabi and Geten, Midoriya and Bakugou struggling against Shigaraki. The world didn’t have time for this. He shouldn’t be wasting any more time. But the memory of Jirou telling him what Shigaraki had done to the eastern part of the city and his fears about his sister had pushed him to this point. He couldn’t stand here and risk losing another family member. 

But for some reason, he couldn’t tell Jirou that. He couldn’t let her know that the reason he was putting this mission in jeopardy was for something so selfish and, in the grand scheme of things, small. 

“We’ve only got them placed on the west side - if we blow it now, the water might be pushed in that direction instead of where we want it to go!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Jirou shouted back, irate. “The dam will burst anyway, and Mudman and Tokoyami can push Machia into the flow of water if it’s a little off - we don’t have time to waste!”

But he had already made up his mind. He was rushing back towards the dam at a dead sprint, heedless of the battle going on behind him, willfully ignoring that he was prolonging the danger to his friends as well as threatening the success of this once-in-a-lifetime mission. 

He knew he had little hope that the Pros would hold off. They could choose to blow the dam any second now using the charges he’d already placed. Denki would be caught up in the blast if they did. He would die. He didn’t care. He couldn’t turn his back and leave his mother here. 

Jirou was still shouting at him through the earpiece, but he reached up and pressed the button that turned off his mic. He could still hear her, his constant reminder of what a massive moron he was being, but she couldn’t hear him. Hopefully, that would be enough to deter her from blowing the dam. Or so he hoped. At the very least, maybe concern over his well-being would buy him a few minutes. 

All traces of the battle that had been raging here mere minutes before were gone. Jirou was right; the storm cloud had driven everyone off, friend and foe alike. In its place, an eerie silence gripped the air, broken only by the occasional rumble of thunder. 

He entered the dark wall of clouds, feeling the cold envelope him as soon as he did. He could still see, albeit barely, and he made his way in the direction of where he knew the dam would be. Static built up on his skin surprisingly fast, much quicker than was normal. However, thanks to his Quirk, it harmlessly absorbed itself into his body. Anybody else who entered here would have been barbecued after only a few steps. 

For the first time, it occurred to Denki that, due to the peculiarities of Quirk inheritance and him and his sister’s immunity to electricity from their father, he was probably one of the only people in the city who could enter this cloud unscathed. Denki’s mother’s Quirk was a threat to everyone but her family. 

That made what he was about to do even worse. 

Finally, he found the wall of the dam and followed it over to the tunnel-like bridge and, beside it, the set of rickety stairs leading up to the top. Denki took the steps two at a time, adrenaline and fear carrying him faster, no longer feeling the burning in his lungs. His mother’s storm clouds cooled him, the constant influx of static giving him energy. 

He reached the top, and all was darkness. Though he knew it was dark out, with the moon waxing dimly overhead, within the reach of his mother’s influence, the world was nothing but darkness and fog. 

“Mom!” he shouted, throwing caution to the wind. No one else would be nearby to hear him anyway, and it was his fastest way of finding her. “Mom! Mom, where are you?!”

At night, lost within the stormcloud, it was nearly impossible to see, but the occasional flashes of lightning would light the world up in haunting, shadowless blurbs. He let his own electricity pump through his hand, sparking in his palm, adding what little light it could. 

“Mom!”

“Denki?”

Out of the murk, she appeared. In the depths of the fog, with her long platinum hair, she looked like a ghost, frightening and ethereal. When she caught sight of him, she smiled, but not the warm, motherly smile he knew. Her lips were thin and bloodless, her cheeks pulled too tight, her teeth glowing a ghastly white in the gloom. 

Something was wrong. 

“Denki!” she said again, hurrying unsteadily to his side. She lost her balance and fell to the side, barely catching herself on the railing, nearly pitching over and falling into the reservoir below. “Sweetie! Baby! I wondered who was coming - I thought it was Renjirou at first, but… Look at this! Look at me! I’m doing it! I’m defending the dam all on my own!”

The pride and elation in her voice sounded… off. Like it was coming from the voice of a child, or someone whose mentality was on level with a child. She managed to get back to her feet, and then, a moment later, she was at his side, grasping his shoulders to steady herself, breathing heavily with unnatural euphoria.

Her eyes… they were wide, pupils dilated, jerking about sporadically… 

Drugs. 

Quirk-enhancing drugs. 

That was the only explanation. How else could her Quirk have grown so powerful so quickly? Why else would she be behaving like this? But where…?

His father. He’d been working for the last couple of months at one of Re-Destro’s warehouses. They kept all kinds of things there. If he’d managed to get his hands on some illegally-imported Quirk Enhancers… He could definitely see his mother angling for something like that. Especially after what had happened the last time she’d gone into the field. And there was nothing Renjirou Kaminari wouldn’t do for his wife.

Her desperation to prove that she was useful had once again pushed her too far. These drugs were dangerous, and not just because they could turn regular people into monsters - they were highly addictive, wreaked absolute havoc on your body, and left you with terrible withdrawals. Not to mention the high they left you with. It was not at all an exaggeration to say that his mother was literally out of her mind right now. 

How on earth was he going to save her?

“Mom,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady, “we need to go. I… I overheard some of the Heroes talking. They’re going to blow the dam up - we need to get out of here, now!”

“Oh, no, no, no!” she replied, reaching up to smooth his hair like he was a frightened child. “Denki, that’s not the way! This is our chance to make our stand! Remember the teachings of our glorious founder, Destro! If we drive them back now, we prove once and for all that we’re in the right! Look at me, Denki! I can do it! Finally, I have my moment to shine!”

Denki felt a year’s worth of anger and frustration tangle up in his throat as he seized his mother roughly and held her there at arm’s length. 

A lifetime of feeling under-appreciated had led her to this. A lifetime of being told she was never good enough, of being looked over and ignored. A lifetime of hatred towards a society that had taken her father away. And now, with these drugs addling her brain… 

If he couldn’t get through to her before, how on earth was he going to do so now?

“Mom,” he tried again, hearing the desperation thick in his voice. “It’s… It’s over. The Heroes are here in force. Most of the PLF is falling back. I don’t know where dad is. Emi… Damn it, mom, Shigaraki blew up half the city, and Emi… I think Emi is…”

He couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to say it. He’d done all this to keep them safe and now that he knew that he had failed, everything he’d suffered through, all of the terrible things he’d done… They were all for nothing. 

His mother stepped away, grasping the railing in both of her hands and staring out into the heart of the stormcloud. 

“If they took my Emiko away from me, then I will avenge her! Just like I will avenge my father! It’s too late to run, Denki! I have lived my entire life for this moment!”

Her voice was too loud, her lines too hokey, her eyes too wide. She was grinning like it was all a joke, like she didn’t actually understand what she was saying, or what he’d said to her, or what was even going on.

It was no use. There was no getting through to her. There never had been. 

She’d given her life to this cause of hers. And she wasn’t afraid to lose it to her cause either. 

His only alternative was to use his Quirk to knock her unconscious and try to drag her away… that is, assuming the drug hadn’t enhanced her Quirk enough to give her immunity to electricity too. He could try it anyway, but how long had it taken him to get up here? Five minutes? How long would it take him to get back, carrying an unconscious woman’s body on his back? More time. Too much time. 

Even now, over the headset, he could still hear Jirou shouting. It was a miracle that they hadn’t decided to blow the dam yet. They should have. If it was Jirou’s concern for him that was keeping them from doing so, then he owed her and his friends yet another apology. It seemed like, no matter what he did, he always ended up letting them down. 

Over her shouting, as he watched his mother stand on the ledge of both the dam and her sanity, he vaguely began to register the words Jirou was saying. 

Tokoyami had gone down. Mina was hurt. Kirishima was missing in action. Yaoyorozu had made it to Todoroki on time but both had been too badly injured in the fight to join the others. And now Shigaraki had broken away from Midoriya and Bakugou and was racing back to the city. They’d been trying to stall Gigantomachia, but if Shigaraki made it back, then it was all for nothing unless Midoriya or Bakugou could stop him in time. 

All of this, because he told Jirou not to blow the dam. 

All of this, because he’d once again prioritized the lives of his family members over his friends and the rest of society. 

In his mind’s eye, he’d suddenly gone back in time a year. Back to that day when he’d received word that Shigaraki had taken over the MLA. Back to that day he’d decided to betray his friends to keep his family safe.

In a removed way, he felt like he could almost be forgiven for that - or at the very least, empathized with. After all, forsaking your family members when it could mean their death was unthinkable. No Hero would ever do that. 

But no Hero would place the lives of countless citizens in peril to protect one single person, no matter who that person was. 

It was like all of the grief and anxiety and fear and hurt that had followed him around for the past year suddenly fell on top of him, driving him to his knees. Perhaps if he were smarter, like Momo, or stronger, like Kirishima, or more optimistic, like Mina, he’d have come to a different conclusion. 

But as he knelt there in the heart of his mother’s storm, holding her life in one hand and the life of his friends in the other, he came to a bitter realization. 

It only made sense that things end this way. This whole problem had begun because he’d valued his family over the world. And so many people had died as a result of that choice.

Karma would have it, then, that the war he’d started should end with him being forced to correct that decision himself. 

He could still try to run, of course. And maybe, just maybe, his friends could survive long enough to give him that chance. He knew if they’d been asked, they’d agree without question. But this was up to him, now. And honestly… after everything he’d been through, all the hurt and pain he’d caused… part of him simply wanted it to finally be over.

Besides. He still couldn’t bring himself to abandon his family. He wouldn’t leave her alone now. He and his mother would go together.

Slowly, he lifted his left hand towards the earpiece, unmuting his microphone. His other hand drifted down to his pocket. 

Jirou was still shouting. He wasn’t really listening anymore. He kept his eyes glued on his mother as she turned away from her silent, insane vigil to look down at him. With her head tilted curiously to the side, she almost looked like a child. He wondered if, standing there on the edge like that, this was how she’d appeared to his grandfather back when he’d saved her from falling. 

“Kyouka,” he said, his throat ragged. 

“Kaminari?” she replied in an instant, equal parts infuriated and relieved. “Where are you?! You need to get away from the dam now! They’re going to blow it!”

His mother’s eyes were on his own, confused, muddled with the effects of the drug. They darted up to his ear, then back down to his pocket, where he was slowly removing the detonator Majestic had ordered Creati to give to him. 

The last time he’d spoken to his mother - really spoken to her, when her head was clear and her thoughts sane - she’d stood beneath him on the staircase, guilt-ridden and trying, and had told him she loved him. 

And he’d walked away without a response. Because at the end of the day, while she may not have been the perfect mother, he wasn’t a very good son either. 

This was his last chance to rectify that. 

And so, with one finger on the mic, making sure Kyouka could hear him, and with the thumb of his other hand resting softly on the circular red button of the detonator, he flipped off the safety, met his mother’s steadily-widening gaze of dawning comprehension and fear, and whispered, loud enough for both women to hear, because he meant his last words for the both of them. 

“I love you.”

And then he pressed the button. 

His mother lunged, hand extended towards his own, his name on her lips, but the dam beneath them shuddered violently, knocking her down as echoing booms pierced the air. For a moment, everything trembled, the sound of cracking stone filling the deadened space between them… and then, faster than he had time to process, the dam burst, spewing hundreds of thousands of liters of water into the air along with chunks of concrete and the shredded remains of metal pipes, and the world was lost amidst the roar of rushing water and the sound of someone screaming.

Chapter Text

Denki was left slumped in his white plastic chair outside the Soba shop while the police officer who had been questioning him stepped away to use his radio. 

It was the same seat he’d been sitting in only minutes ago when everything had been right with the world. His kids had been happy. Eating the cake their aunt had purchased for them. Everything had been so… carefree. So peaceful. 

It was astonishing and horrifying how quickly things could change. In a matter of a few short minutes, his entire world had come crumbling down around him. 

His kids were gone. 

They’d been kidnapped by the MLA. Kidnapped by Emiko, his own sister. 

And it was all his fault. 

After his initial breakdown, after he’d calmed down enough to explain what had happened to the concerned cop and shop owner, things had become hectic. Denki had described Emiko’s appearance, as well as the appearance of both of his children and the woman he’d chased into the alleyway. The shop owner had rushed to find his security footage, which showed a van pulling up to the curb shortly after Denki had rushed off and Emiko herding the kids inside. The cop put out an APB on the vehicle and was even now radioing in for backup and requesting assistance from any nearby Heroes. 

And all the while, there Denki sat, hollow and defeated. 

He’d tried to help and had only made things worse. 

Tried to be a Hero when he was anything but, and instead had put the lives of his children in jeopardy. 

It wasn’t fair. He knew his father and sister had every right to hate him, but… his kids hadn’t done anything wrong. Hadn’t he suffered enough for the mistakes he’d made? How long would the universe continue demanding that he pay?

The restaurant owner, a kindly old man who was missing half of his teeth (better to slurp soba, he’d jokingly told him on a previous visit), patted Denki consolingly on the shoulder. 

“Never fear, my boy,” he said in what he surely thought was a bracing tone. “The Heroes will be able to find your kids and bring ‘em back, safe and sound. You’ll see. Just stay strong.”

Only, that was part of the problem, Denki mused as the old man shuffled away. The Heroes were probably being alerted right now. And that meant that his friends and, more importantly, his wife, were going to find out any minute now. 

Despite how all-consuming his terror and guilt were over what had happened to his kids, there was still that voice in the back of his head reminding him that he was going to have to face Kyouka. What on earth was he going to say to her? How do you look your wife in the eye and explain that your negligence and incompetence led to your children being kidnapped by violent, murderous terrorists?

Even if they managed to get his children back safe and sound… he knew Kyouka might not ever be able to trust him again. 

And the worst part was, he couldn’t blame her. 

Would the day ever come where he ceased being a disappointment to the people he loved?

He slumped over, feeling raw inside like his insides had been furiously scoured by the flames of his own shame and self-loathing. He moved as though to lay his head down on the tabletop, still laden with the remains of his and Emi’s lunches and the cakes she’d bought for his kids, when something caught his eye. 

There, under Emi’s glass, was a piece of paper. He hadn’t noticed it before because it had been partially obscured under her plate. 

Slowly, Denki slid it out and held it up to read. 

‘Let’s not mince words.
You know what you have to do to get them back. 
I can promise their safety only so long as you turn yourself over. 
You have one hour. Go to the place we first met. Come alone, or they die. 
Dad really wants to see you again.’

The handwriting… he had no way of knowing if it was hers. He hadn’t seen her writing in years. Still, who else could have left the message but her? 

He figured it would come to this. If Denki’s father wanted him dead, kidnapping his children was a great way of getting him over there and separating him from his Pro Hero friends. The only problem was, going along with this didn’t guarantee his children’s safety. But what other choice did he have? They’d already tried to kill them once. They wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if he didn’t comply. 

If only he hadn’t given Aika his ring… He could use it to alert the Pros to where they were going to take him. 

No sense in worrying about that now. He was losing his hour. He needed to move if he was going to get all the way back to that alleyway where he and Emi had first met. 

The police officer was still talking on his radio. The shop owner hadn’t returned from the restaurant. Now was his chance. 

Carefully, he slipped the note back under the glass. Hopefully, the cop would find it once Denki was gone and alert the Pros. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever told Kyouka exactly where he was when he’d met Emi again. Hopefully he had, otherwise...

He’d have to rely on his friends, actual Heroes, to save his kids. For now, Denki would do what he could. 

And maybe, just maybe… if he turned himself over, maybe his father would show his kids some mercy and let them go. 

Quickly, before the cop noticed, Denki stood and slipped into the crowd passing by on the sidewalk. 

By the time the police officer had finished making his report and turned back to Denki, he was gone. 

Emi stood alone in the hallway. 

It was dark there. Peaceful, almost. The only source of light was the bluish-white fluorescent light that bled out of the open doorway to her left. She was only a few steps away from the makeshift break room in Re-Destro's abandoned warehouse, her back against the cold cement wall. Far enough that she wouldn’t be seen by anyone who was inside. Close enough that she could still hear. 

She was hiding. It was stupid, she knew that it was. Yet somehow, the thought of going into that room, the thought of having to meet their frightened, distrustful eyes… 

It scared her.

They put them in a dog cage. It was a large one, at least. The kind meant for a bigger dog, like a Labrador or a Great Dane. Still… a cage was a cage, even if it was nearly tall enough for them to stand up in. Kids didn’t belong in cages. Especially not her niece and nephew. Especially not when it was her fault they were in there in the first place.

How had it come to this? Where had it all gone wrong?

Ten years ago, she’d been doing her best to live her life. She’d been lonely, of course. She’d missed her parents and hated her brother who had stolen everything away from her and had the audacity to go on and live a perfect, normal, happy life like nothing was wrong. But she was strong. She carried on. She did her best to support the other discarded remnants of the MLA. To make a life for herself out of the ashes of their defeat. To take care of little Yuu, who had been only five and so determined to grow up faster than he needed to. It had been a hard life. A sad life. But a quiet one. 

And then Yuu’s Quirk had manifested. 

She’d heard of things like that happening before. Children whose Quirks were mutations far beyond anything seen before in their family. Quirks so powerful they completely shattered all conception of what was previously thought possible. There had been a girl who was living at Denki’s school who had such a Quirk, granting her the impossible power to rewind a person like they were an old-fashioned cassette tape. It was horrifying and amazing. A testament to how Quirks had changed the world.

Yuu couldn’t do that. But he did have the ability to freeze time. 

That probably wasn’t completely right. They’d never been able to sit down and study it, for several reasons, but it was probable that what he really did was accelerate to such an insane speed that everything else appeared to move in slow motion. And he could also, by touching something, accelerate that object or person as well so that they could also move about with time appearing to have stopped. 

The problem was, like with all Quirks, Yuu had a limit. And that limit prevented him from using his Quirk more than once a year. 

Once he used it, he was forced to wait an entire year before he was able to use it again. During that waiting period, Yuu was essentially Quirkless. It was difficult to say how long he could go - what is time to you when you’ve basically stopped it from moving? - but after a decade of testing, he’d managed to deduce that he could spend about ten minutes in his ‘accelerated’ state - that is, ten minutes as it appeared to him, not ten minutes in reality. But during those ten minutes, he was virtually unstoppable. 

Which is why she’d been so surprised when, two years ago, Yuu had approached her on the eve of the day that he’d get to use his Quirk again and told her, his expression completely serious, that he wanted to use it to help break her father out of prison. 

There was no ulterior motive. It had nothing to do with the MLA, or rebuilding their lost community, or getting revenge on anyone. 

Yuu had lost both of his parents in the war. They’d died the day Emi’s father had been arrested. On the day that Denki had killed her mother. On that day, both had become orphans. They’d met by accident when they’d found themselves gathered together with a cluster of other displaced survivors, scared and hurt and alone. Emi had stolen away into the backroom of their makeshift hideout, a store owned by a survivor in another town, to find somewhere she could be alone and cry and found her spot already taken by little five-year-old Yuu. 

He’d glared up at her, face covered in tears and dust, his nose full of snot, and her heart had broken. And from that day forward, she’d become his only family. 

She could... sympathize with him. Neither of them deserved to be there, homeless and without a family. 

Children didn’t belong on the battlefield. 

The thought was painful now, in light of what she had just done. 

Yuu had only wanted to break Emi’s father out of prison for her sake. Because while he had to live without his parents forever, she didn’t have to. Her father was still alive. His life sentence meant he’d never get to see her again, but if Yuu used his Quirk, they could break him out of jail. They could finally be reunited. She wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

Emi had refused at first. She wanted to see her father again more than anything, but what Yuu was suggesting was a serious crime. Unlike her, unlike the other misplaced PLF survivors, Yuu was actually innocent. He’d been a child during the war. He’d never committed a crime. And silly as it sounded, Emi was determined to keep it that way. If she lost him too, she didn’t think she could go on. 

But Yuu was insistent. And after two years of constant begging and debating, two years of dangling the idea of having her dad back in her life in front of her face, of saving him from isolation, of getting at least a part of her family back… she finally wavered. 

The Pros probably thought that the breakout was some large, well-thought-out, complicated plan years in the making, meant to revive the PLF and once again throw society into chaos. In truth, it was a spur-of-the-moment impulsive decision made by a well-meaning teenage boy and a lonely young woman who just wanted to hug her father again. 

It was never about the MLA or getting revenge or starting up a new conflict. 

It was about family. 

Or… it was supposed to be. 

Getting her father out was the easy part. Yuu took her along when he accelerated and it was just a manner of strolling past the oblivious guards and finding the right jail cell. Yuu’s Quirk did weird things to the law of physics. If they could ever study it properly, she was sure that they’d find that his heightened speed gave extra force to normally mundane punches, but it was a simple matter to break down any doors closed in their way or to break open the cell itself. They wound up rescuing the other men in the cell as well, if only to cover Emi’s involvement since she was supposed to be dead, and then escaped without the guards ever being the wiser. 

At the time, Emi had been too blinded by the sheer joy of having her father back to notice the cracks that had developed in him over his decade of isolation. If his eyes had looked cold and distant, it was only because he’d been so alone for so long. If his smile seemed off, it must be because he’d forgotten what the action felt like. And though his happiness at seeing her again was at least unfeigned - his tears had been real enough as had the tightness of his embrace - she couldn’t bring herself to blame him for immediately asking about the rest of the MLA. He had a life now, one given back to him by Yuu. Of course he’d want to know about what was going on in the world. That was normal. 

So when he began speaking with the other MLA members, after they made their way back to their hideout, about Denki and about pulling together to exact their revenge for their fallen comrades, she really had no one to blame but herself for being surprised. 

She understood where he was coming from. Denki had stolen everything from them, and while the MLA hated him as a whole, no one had more right than they did. She supposed that, after spending ten years locked away with other PLF members, being known as the father of the one who had betrayed them can’t have been easy. Ten years of being at the mercy of their hate and abuse. Ten years of having the unthinkable truth that your son killed your wife thrown in your face day after day… it would be enough to drive anyone mad. 

But even still, she had hesitated. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Denki to pay. She absolutely did. It burned inside of her, day in and day out, that he was living such a normal happy life when she and Yuu and her father had been made to suffer so much. It was just… she had only just brought her father back. Waging a war against her brother, especially considering who his friends were, was suicidal. At best, they would all be arrested this time around. At worst… more of her family could die. And she’d long since decided that she was going to protect Yuu from that life. 

It hadn't taken too long for her father to bring her around to his way of thinking, however. He’d looked her dead in the eyes and said, voice quiet, devoid of its old warmth, “Think about what your mother would want. She entrusted her dreams to you.” 

It was her job, he’d said, to avenge her. And while Emi hadn’t exactly agreed with that, he had at least managed to stoke the fire of hatred for Denki and what he had done to them that had dimmed somewhat over the intervening years. 

It was only now, with the benefit of hindsight, that Emiko was finally beginning to realize just how similar she was to her father. How easy it was for her to find herself pushed along by the will and desires of those close to her. Much like how her father had completely given in to her mother’s obsessive devotion to the PLF, Emi had eventually given in to Yuu’s pressures to save her father and even now had gone along with her father’s insane quest for revenge, all because she cared about him and didn’t want to disappoint him. 

Had she always been so impressionable? Had she always lacked the ability to hold true to her own convictions? As conflicted as her feelings were towards her mother and her brother, at the very least, they had shown the ability to stand up for what they thought was right. No matter the cost, to themselves or those around them. 

It was funny. Ten years ago, though she’d resented her parents and especially her mother for getting her involved in it, she had stood strong on the battlefield and had fought against Pros and police officers alike without any real concern over whether what she was doing was right or wrong. Why was it so different now?

A quiet noise floated out of the breakroom. She recognized it as Rai, her little four-year-old nephew who she’d pulled out of that burning building. He was whimpering in fear. Her fingers tightened into fists, nails digging painfully into her palms.

This was the right thing. It had to be. Denki had killed her mother. He’d been living happily while their father rotted away in prison and she was forced to live in hiding. This was fair. This was just. It was. 

Where was that conviction she’d felt on the day she’d reunited with Denki in that alleyway? Where was the roaring hate that had spurred her forward? She needed it now, more than ever, but all she could feel inside was cold. 

The soft sound of footsteps called out to her, coming slowly closer. Someone approached her out of the shadows of the hallway. It was Yuu, and from his expression, he wasn’t happy. 

“Your dad told me to get you,” he said quietly once he’d reached her side. “Says your brother should be here soon. He wants everyone to get in their positions.”

But she didn’t move. Behind her, on the other side of the wall, two little kids were in a cage, crying and terrified. Because of her. Because she’d ignored the voice in her head that told her this was wrong, had allowed her brother to rush off into their trap, and when Yaso had pulled up in his van, she’d lied to the kids and told them that they would be safe if they got in the car with her. 

And they’d believed her. 

Because she'd bought them cake. Because she'd played with them. Because they thought they could trust her. 

She felt nauseous. 

When she didn’t respond to Yuu’s comment, he turned and settled back against the wall beside her. He was taller than she was now. When had that happened?

“I don’t like this, Emi,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice. “This… This isn’t what I thought was going to happen when we saved your dad.”

Thoughts of Rai crying morphed into the memory of five-year-old Yuu covered in tears and dust. 

Kids didn’t belong on the battlefield. 

All she’d wanted was to have her dad back again. She wanted Denki to own up to what he did. She didn’t want to drag these kids into this. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. 

And now Denki was more than likely on his way. And even though the note she left told him to come alone… Chances were good that, today or someday in the future, the Heroes would descend upon them again in all of their fury. How many family members was she going to lose this time?

Yuu turned to walk away, but Emi reached out and caught him by the arm, holding him in place. 

“Will you… stay with them?” she asked softly. 

Yuu turned back to look at her, his expression unreadable. 

“I just… I just don’t want them to be alone.”

It was more than that, though. Someone would need to stay with the kids, and she knew that Yuu would never hurt them. She’d made her father swear that they wouldn’t be hurt before she agreed to go along with this stupid plan, but the awful truth was that she wasn’t sure that she could trust that promise. Not from him, or from the other MLA members, especially Hotaru or Yaso, if the Heroes arrived and things turned against them. But they would be safe with Yuu - and, in turn, Yuu would be safest with them, and away from the battlefield. 

“...Sure, Emi.”

As Yuu made his way into the break room, Emi slowly turned and started off down the darkened hallway. 

This was it, then. The moment had finally come. Soon, Denki would arrive, her father would confront him, and then… and then…

She shook her head. She knew what was coming. She knew he deserved it. And yet somehow, despite how hard she’d worked to bring them to this exact moment…

She suddenly wished she were anywhere else. 

The moment she exited the elevator onto the floor where her office was held, she was met by the sight of Mina standing near one of the decorative fake plants, talking on her phone.

Her pink friend looked anxious, but from the tone of her voice, she wasn't talking to another Pro or police officer. It sounded like a personal call. 

Mina's eyes lifted up off of the carpet, catching hers, quickly growing wide with concern.

“Kyouka, wait!”

She ignored her, walking as fast as she could on her too-short legs towards the conference room in the back. She almost hadn’t come, despite the message she’d received from Bakugou. She wanted to be out on the streets where she’d be the most useful, but in spite of the severe emotional strain she was currently under, there was still a small part of her, resilient after years of training, that reminded her that there was an order to Hero work. 

Mina was still hurrying behind in her wake, hastily trying to end her phone call. The rest of the office seemed to be empty. Everyone must either be in the conference room or out on the streets already. 

Good. That was good.

She threw open the doors of the conference room with too-much force, and they slammed loudly against the inner wall, causing those inside to jump in surprise. 

“What are the updates?” she asked without preamble, trying her best to sound professional and fully aware of the fact that she had tearstains on her cheeks and that her voice was trembling. 

She was met with an uncomfortable pause. 

There were fewer people in the room than she had expected. Bakugou was there, of course, as he was the one who had called the meeting after they’d all received the notice. Likely, he’d been trying to force some semblance of order onto them and prevent her from racing around the streets like a headless chicken. Even so, the glare he shot her way was devoid of its usual heat. He seemed… guarded. Almost sympathetic. She hated it. 

He was joined by Detective Nakamura, his go-to contact from the police agency who had been placed in charge of finding and arresting her father-in-law. The woman showed all of the emotion of a robot, but in a weird way, Kyouka found that comforting. She didn’t want or need her friends’ sympathy. She wanted to tear down every building in the city until she found her kids and could rip Emiko Kaminari’s teeth out with her own bare hands. 

The only other bodies in the room belonged to Momo, who stood up and immediately made her way over to Kyouka’s side, Kirishima, who had been discussing something with Bakugou before she’d made her entrance and was now gawking at her, and finally her sidekick Gizmo, who was even now fastidiously typing something into his laptop. 

She hoped that the reason no one else was here was because they were all out scouring the city for her children. But there was one notable absence that not only explained the slew of unanswered phone calls and texts, but also sent a shiver of fear up her spine.

“Where’s Denki?” she asked, not waiting for a response to her earlier question.

Her Quirk may have enhanced only her hearing, but she didn’t need Quirk-enhanced eyes to notice the way Momo, Kirishima, and Gizmo all flinched. 

She didn’t think it was possible for the all-consuming feeling of dread and terror that she’d been feeling since she’d been notified of her children’s abduction to get any larger, and yet somehow, impossibly, it did. 

“Sit down, Ears,” Bakugou said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. “We need to talk.”

Kyouka found herself suddenly gripped by the powerful desire to lash out at him, but she reigned it in. She was hysterical, she knew it. She was doing an amazing job of holding it in, all things considered. But shouting at Bakugou wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all her kids. 

She walked further into the room until she was standing next to the table, just a few seats away from Gizmo, but she didn’t take a seat. Mina finally entered the room behind her, looking frazzled, shutting the door with a snap and gently squeezing Kyouka’s arm before hurrying to her husband’s side. 

“Where’s Denki?” she asked again, conscious of the way her voice wavered, already dreading the answer even before Bakugou sighed and scratched at his head. 

“The bastard ran off on his own. The cop who was with him turned his back to radio in about the abduction and when he looked back, Kaminari was gone.”

Why was it that all she could feel building up inside her was fear? She was supposed to be mad. Furious, even. Absolutely livid that her Denki could do something so unbelievably stupid, and yet instead of red-hot rage, all she could feel was a cold, sinking dread. 

“He… He went off? On his own?”

In a removed way, she wondered if her voice sounded as off to the others as it did to her or if the sheer weight of the stress she was under was causing her Quirk to malfunction. 

“The police officer at the scene found this note left on the table,” Kirishima said, picking up the explanation. On the holographic projector, Gizmo brought up an image of a photo that had been taken at the scene. It was a card with a hand-written note, presumably from Emiko, telling Denki to go to where they’d first met.

She couldn't stop herself from hyper-focusing on the words 'or they die'.

Somehow, seeing the note right in front of her made the situation seem all the more real. Her legs wobbled, and she tried to pull a chair out so she could sit down, but her knees buckled before she could get it all the way out. Luckily, Momo was there to catch her. 

Denki. That idiot. He was going to get himself killed. 

“I don’t suppose you happen to know exactly where it was that Kaminari met his sister, do you?” Mina asked as Momo helped her into her seat, her tone cautious as though afraid of setting Kyouka off. 

She shook her head, feeling numb. No, he hadn’t said exactly where it was… and if Mina was asking, that must mean that, when he spoke to the police originally, he hadn’t been asked for the exact location either. She just knew it was in an alley somewhere on the other side of town. 

“That bastard,” Bakugou grumbled, cracking his knuckles. “We gave him a ring to use as an SOS device for just these occasions, but he hasn’t used it. For all we know, he wasn’t carrying it with him. Useless.”

“Do we…?” she began, trying to ask what steps were already being taken, but her voice cut out. The PLF had taken her babies and her husband had rushed off alone and now here she sat feeling powerless and lost. Momo was rubbing her back consolingly, tears in her eyes. 

“Kouda’s on the street,” Bakugou supplied, somehow intuiting what it was she was trying to ask. “He’s got a pack of dogs trying to track Kaminari’s scent, but it’s proving difficult. The card said he had an hour, so wherever he is, it has to be close to the restaurant your kids were taken from. We contacted Denki’s employer to find out where he was sent on the day he made contact with Emiko, and Tape-arms is trying to do an aerial sweep of the streets between there and the soba shop, but we haven’t found anything yet.”

Of course. Her friends were all Pros and were in a clearer state of mind than she was. They were on top of this. She had to believe in them. Everything was going to be ok…

“Earphone Jack,” came the direct, emotionless voice of Detective Nakamura, “forgive me for being blunt, but I’m questioning the logic of having you involved here.”

Every muscle in Kyouka’s body went stiff. Slowly, she lifted her red-rimmed eyes off of the tabletop and stared at the detective seated across from her. 

“I don’t mean this in a rude way,” she clarified, tone devoid of both apology or judgment, “however, it is clear to me that you are emotionally compromised. That is to be expected, of course, however, I don’t know that you can be trusted to act in a professional manner in this case, considering the circumstances. I think it would be best if you stepped back and allowed the other Pros to handle this.”

No one else in the room would meet her gaze. Kirishima, Mina, Gizmo, even Momo - all of them looked away. They agreed with Nakamura. Of course they did. In a distant sort of way, Kyouka realized she agreed with her, too. If this was Momo whose child had been taken, Kyouka would be doing everything she could to save Rei, but she’d want Momo to stay out of the action as well. There was no telling what Kyouka would do, what laws she would break, what risks she would take, now that her kids’ lives were on the line. It was logical. Rational, even. 

But if this woman thought even for a moment that she was going to keep Kyouka away from this fight, then she was sorely mistaken. 

Before she could speak out in her defense (and likely damn herself in the process), someone came to her defense. 

“I disagree,” Bakugou interjected, glowering at the woman. 

“Do you, now?” Nakamura replied, and for the first time, Kyouka thought she heard an emotion there. She sounded… wry. 

“This ain’t just about her kids or her idiot of a husband,” Bakugou explained, leaning back in his seat. “This is about the PLF. If they succeed in killing them, and word gets out, we could be looking at a resurgence not only of PLF and villain activity, but in villain activity targeting Pros and their families. Time is of the essence here, and Ears has one of the best reconnaissance Quirks in the business. More than that, she’s the brats’ mom. She could pick out the sound of their heartbeat if she’s within a kilometer of them, even if they’re behind multiple walls or underground. She’s our best shot at finding them.”

For a moment, the wave of gratitude she felt towards Bakugou was nearly enough to eclipse her concern over her family’s safety. 

She half expected Nakamura to argue back, but to her surprise, the woman merely nodded. 

“That is the logical course of action, yes,” she said. “But I still have concerns about her ability to control herself while in the field. I can only approve of this if someone agrees to take responsibility for her actions and keeps her in line-”

“I will,” Momo supplied immediately, only to be followed up by a “We all will,” from Kirishima. 

“Very well,” Nakamura replied. “Then we need to get moving. Creati, please escort Earphone Jack during this operation. I will remain here to coordinate the search. If, by some miracle, a transmission comes in from the ring we gave to Kaminari, I will let you know at once. You are dismissed.”

“Let’s move it, people!” Bakugou growled, rising to his feet, and just like that, everyone save for Nakamura began to exit the conference room. 

While Bakugou and Kirishima stayed behind for a moment in the office to talk, Kyouka headed straight for the elevator and was joined by Momo, Mina, and Gizmo.

The doors slid closed, and for a moment, there was silence. The soft jazz playing over the speakers felt surreal as she examined her blurry reflection in the back of the metal elevator door.

“Sorry I was late,” Mina said after a moment. “I was with Mieko when Kirishima came bursting into the room shouting about what had happened, and she heard. She’s been inconsolable ever since. I was trying to calm her down on the phone while we waited for you.”

Normally, the thought of little Mieko crying over her friends would have upset her, but right now, Kyouka didn’t have room to worry about anyone else’s kids. 

After another pause, it was Kyouka’s turn to speak. 

“Gizmo, maybe you should stay here with Nakamura and help her coordinate-”

“With all due respect, boss… I refuse.”

Kyouka let out a breath, trying to calm herself down. The elevator was taking forever. 

“We have everyone out looking,” Momo said gently, trying her best to sound reassuring. “Shouto’s out on the streets with all of our sidekicks. Iida’s on his way, with Tokoyami and Hagakure and Shinso… Most of the class is coming.”

“Most of Class 1-B, too,” Mina chimed in. “At least, the ones who were off today. We’ll find them, Kyouka. No one’s going to hurt them.”

She was spared having to come up with a polite answer by the elevator doors opening. She was grateful for her friends - she was - she just wasn't in the mood for conversation.

They would find them. They had to. She would keep her family safe. 

Even if she had to kill Emiko and Renjirou to do it. 

By the time Denki arrived in the old abandoned alleyway where he’d first reunited with his sister, about forty minutes had passed. He was breathless and sweaty, having jogged most of the way there, and was fully aware that he was in no shape for a brawl. It didn’t matter, though. This was a trap, pure and simple. They weren’t planning on giving him a chance to fight back. 

He passed by the old dumpster where he’d leaped out at Emi all of those weeks ago, glancing around under the hot summer sun, unsure where he was supposed to go. There was another alley to his right, some abandoned buildings to his left, and nothing but weeds and cracked pavement going forward. 

Well… He was here. Now what?

His answer came when the doors of the abandoned buildings both in front and behind him suddenly opened, and a group of about ten people stepped out into the alleyway, surrounding him. 

All of them were smiling, cruel smirks and sinister sneers, but Denki paid them no mind. He didn’t recognize any of them anyway. And while he could probably take most of them out with an Indiscriminate Shock, doubtless one or more of them had some way to resist his Quirk, otherwise why were they there? Not to mention that they’d probably take it out on his kids if they tried. 

After scanning all of their faces, however, he frowned. 

“So what?” he asked, not needing to try very hard to sound intimidating; he was still furious that they’d had the gall to touch his children. “Emiko too good to be here herself?”

“She wasn’t needed,” came a soft, familiar voice from behind him, and Denki spun around. 

A man pushed through the slowly-forming crowd. He seemed shorter than Denki remembered, and thinner, and the hair on both his face and beard had gone completely white. But though his eyes no longer held that warm, familial glow that had once been his most striking feature, Denki would still recognize him anywhere. 

He swallowed, mouth dry from more than just the heat and his recent race across town. 

“...Dad.”

“Hello, Denki,” Renjirou replied, his voice low, dispassionate. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” Denki retorted, voice surprisingly raspy, and the older man let out a humorless chuckle. 

“You didn’t think you could escape this, did you?”

The others began to laugh now too as though Renjirou had been telling a joke. For the umpteenth time since he’d left the soba shop, Denki found himself silently praying that Kyouka would find a way to save the day and clean up the enormous mess he'd made.

He met his father’s empty gaze head-on. 

“I’m here now,” he said, ignoring his father’s pointless question. “I came, just like you asked. Now let my kids go.”

The corners of Renjirou’s mouth twitched upward. 

“No, I don’t think I will,” he said as the others began to laugh again. “I didn’t just bring you here to kill you, Denki. I brought you here to make you suffer as I have suffered. To make sure that you know the pain that you put me and Emiko through, and I think those children will end up proving quite useful.”

Denki stepped forward without thinking, feeling his Quirk surge through him, ready to release it all in one powerful blast. His father would just absorb the blow, but that was fine; he could take him in a head-to-head fight, no problem. And it was going to feel really good to pound his face in. 

Only, before he could take another step, he suddenly found himself caught by a large, massive fist seemingly made entirely of rocks that lifted him clear off the ground. 

Before he could react, before he could even cry out, some sort of inky black liquid squirted into his face, foul-smelling and sticky, and almost immediately his consciousness began to fade. 

He coughed and retched, shaking his head, trying to stay alert, but it was no use. Whoever this Quirk belonged to, it was a good one.

As his vision dimmed and the world went black, he kept his eyes on his father. The way he was standing, the madness in his eyes, the long, light hair... it all seemed so familiar...

And then the darkness fully took him. 

Chapter Text

He should have died. 

He should have been dead for hours. Yet, at some point, it occurred to him that he wasn’t dead. Not only that, he was awake. His consciousness had seemingly returned, at least partially, at some point during the past several hours. 

He wasn’t fully cognizant, though. Barely lucid, he registered distantly that he was lying on his back, it was cold, and he could barely breathe. 

He hurt everywhere… or, well, mostly. In a removed way, without knowing how, he knew that his body was under so much pain that his brain simply couldn’t process it. There was a… pressure… on his legs that he couldn’t define, but he couldn’t really feel them anyway, so he let it go. His left arm was certainly broken and was probably bent the wrong way. He didn’t want to think about that either. His right arm, however, seemed to be ok… but he kept reaching out without really knowing why, his fingers closing around nothing, fingernails scratching through mud, coming up empty every time, even though some part of him kept saying that someone was there. Someone had been reaching for him, and he needed to take their hand. It was very important. 

After a while, he realized that his eyes were actually working - he was just somewhere dark and couldn’t see very well. It was cold, wherever it was. And cramped. And the air was choked with dust. His ribs hurt too much for him to breathe properly, making his respirations pained and shallow, but the dust that clogged his airway left him coughing occasionally, which sent shockwaves of pain radiating up and down his body. 

There was also a sensation of wetness underneath him, but whether that was sweat or blood or water, he didn’t know. Probably some combination of the three. The thought of water reminded him of the dust in the air and how thirsty he was, which wasn’t a happy avenue of thought, but even worse, it called to mind images of a reservoir and a large dam and a meeting he had had on top of it…

After an indeterminate amount of time, he became suddenly aware of a sound. Coming from somewhere… close by. It was muffled, barely audible, buzzing around him like a housefly, irritating and hard to catch. 

The sound was quickly followed by another, this one lower, deeper. Were they… voices? Voices, coming from somewhere close by that he couldn’t see?

Something shifted, somewhere out of sight. Dust rained down on him, producing another painful coughing fit. The sounds were louder now. 

“...nder here!” someone was shouting. “I can hear a heartbeat!”

Someone was coming. Coming to save him. Maybe he wasn’t going to die here after all. 

But as that thought skittered across his mind, a second thought interrupted, angry and accusatory. 

Shouldn’t he die here?

Wasn’t that how this was supposed to end?

He didn’t know what that meant, but the thought… it felt right. It felt like that was the way it was supposed to be. 

But someone was coming. Someone was going to save him anyway.

His right hand closed again around nothing. Someone had been there. Someone had been reaching for him, and he hadn’t taken her hand. 

Overhead, the darkness was suddenly pierced by a ray of light. 

A chunk of cement, one of many that had caged him in, was suddenly lifted, allowing the dim morning light of the rising sun to flood into the tiny pocket of space formed around him by the shattered remains of the broken dam.

People were standing over him. Sato he recognized immediately, hefting the enormous chunk of broken wall that had been settled on top of him like a lid. Shouji was nearby, clearing away smaller chunks of rubble. 

His friends had come.

But Denki had eyes for only one person. She was down on all-fours atop another of the broken boulders of cement that surrounded him, one of her jacks extending all the way down to him, wrapping around his wrist. There were tears in her eyes and her face was filthy with dirt and soot, but there, overhead, framed in the light of the rising sun, she looked like a goddess.

She was talking, whether to him or to the others who were trying to dig him out, he didn’t know. The relief of seeing her, of seeing his friends, of being rescued from his cold, cramped darkness, was flooding through him, carrying him away, back to unconsciousness. He fought to stay awake, but it was useless in the face of his overwhelming pain and fatigue. 

The last thought he had before succumbing once more to oblivion was that Kyouka was not who he’d been reaching for. 

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital room. 

It was easy enough to tell. The stiff bed with its scratchy seafoam bedsheets. The off-white, sterile walls. The tubes sticking out of his nose, chest, arms, and legs. More than that was the atmosphere. There was something about being in a hospital that just felt... different... from anywhere else. 

He had no idea what time it was. There were no windows here, though the dimness of the lights and the general quiet that surrounded him implied that it was evening. 

The hospital room called to mind other thoughts. Memories of the last time he’d been in a hospital, when someone else had been the one lying in the bed. The madness in her eyes… how could he have ever known that it would one day lead him to where he was now?

Memories of the battle had returned along with his consciousness, and he shied away from them, wincing like he'd drawn too close to a fire. 

He’d blown the dam. He’d blown it while he and his mother stood on top. 

He should be dead. It was… impossible that he’d survived. He’d been almost thirty meters off the ground, give or take. There was no way he could still be alive. His thoughts were still too murky to really think clearly, but unless someone had tried to catch him with their Quirk mid-fall… or maybe he’d been caught in the exploding torrent of water and had… somehow landed in the river? No, that still didn’t make sense. Sometimes, you heard stories about people surviving impossible situations, plane crashes or car accidents or the like, for seemingly impossible reasons. Maybe that was all this was. Some stupid fluke. 

What he knew for certain was that odds of him living through that had to have been infinitesimal. A probability so low it wasn’t even worth discussing. 

Why was it, then, that the gods or fate or random chance or whatever you wanted to call it decided to spare him - the traitor who had betrayed his friends, the traitor who had betrayed his family, who had caused all of this to happen - and not anyone else? How many people, Heroes or Villains or civilians, had died in that last battle? How many of them deserved this absurd second-chance at life more than Denki did?

Another thought popped into his head. 

If he had survived, impossibly, against all odds… then was it possible that his mother had as well? She had been right next to him, reaching for him, when the dam burst. 

Denki looked around the room, as though expecting to see his family there at his bedside, only to remember that was impossible now. However, to his surprise, he discovered he wasn’t alone.

To his left, seated in a trio of uncomfortably small guest chairs, sat Mineta, Mina, and Kirishima. All three were asleep. Mineta was drooling boorishly onto the armrest, the only one who looked appropriately sized for his seat. Mina was slumped onto Kirishima’s shoulder, snoring slightly, and Kirishima himself was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. All three sported bandages and casts, evidence that they hadn’t fully recovered from the battle. 

He turned his head to his right, fighting past the stiffness and pain that radiated across his body at the motion, to find more people waiting on the other side. 

Sero had created a sling of sorts out of his elbow tape, dangling it from the ceiling, and was using it to support his head while he, too, slept, his snores so loud it was a wonder Denki hadn’t noticed him sooner. 

And at Sero’s side sat Kyouka. 

She was slumped forward on Denki’s bed, using her right arm as a pillow, her hair in complete disarray, falling into her face. Her left hand was wrapped around Denki’s right, something he also somehow hadn’t noticed, and she’d tangled one of her earphone jacks around his wrist with the jack itself pressed against his pulse point, as though she’d needed constant confirmation, even in her sleep, that his heart was still beating. 

For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to wake his friends up, to press them for information - about the battle, about his family - and yet… 

It was obvious that they’d been through a lot. It meant the world to him that they were there, even after everything, beaten up and clearly worse for the wear and yet still they stayed in his hospital room, waiting for him to wake up. He didn’t deserve friends like this. He’d done nothing to earn their friendship. 

Still. He needed to know what happened. Where was his father, his sister? What had become of his mother? Logic told him that there was really no hope, and yet if he had survived, impossibly, against all odds, then maybe… 

As though summoned by his need, Kyouka began to stir. She mumbled something under her breath, scowling and nuzzling her forehead against her arm as she was slowly roused from her uncomfortable slumber. 

Her eyes blinked open lazily in that lethargic way that showed she wasn’t really awake yet. Her gaze met Denki’s, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other. 

Then, when it finally seemed to register that he was actually awake, her eyes went wide and she shot upright in her seat, accidentally scooting the chair forward and letting out a loud, ear-splitting squeal as the chair legs scraped across the linoleum floor. 

Miraculously, their other friends remained asleep despite the noise. They must be more exhausted than Denki thought. 

“D-Denki!” Kyouka said after a second, leaning forward to grab his hand again even as her other hand went towards trying to fix her hair. It was a futile effort; her sleeping position had squashed part of her bangs up at an awkward angle and now she kind of looked like a chicken. Under different circumstances, it probably would have been funny. 

When he didn’t reply right away, she scooted a little closer and asked, “How are you feeling?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, but the only sound that came out was a croak. 

His voice was raspy from disuse. He swallowed painfully and tried to start again. 

“...What happened?”

“You… You blew the dam, remember?” she said, looking anxious. From the look on her face, it was evident that she was worried he had some sort of head trauma that had caused him to forget. She was fiddling absently with his fingers, and the sensation was somewhat distracting. “You were too close, a-and you got caught in the blast… I… We thought you were dead, but I picked out the sound of a heartbeat under some rubble near the riverbed while we were searching for the wounded, a-and…”

But Denki shook his head, slowly so as not to aggravate his stiff, sore muscles. 

“No, I know that,” he said softly - though to be fair, he didn't think he was capable of raising his voice any higher than it was. “I meant… what happened?”

That wasn’t any clearer than it had been the first time, but Kyouka seemed to understand because she sat up a little straighter and cleared her throat. 

“The plan worked… for the most part.” Here, she tried to smile, but the exhaustion on her face was so strong that it looked more like a grimace. “We managed to push Machia into the water, but it only delayed him for a bit before he broke out. Still, it was enough. Midoriya caught up to Shigaraki before the two could team up, and Bakugou wound up taking down Machia. We won… but a lot of our friends are in the hospital. Midoriya was pretty touch-and-go for a while, and Todoroki almost lost his leg. Eri was able to save it. She’d have come around here for you, too, but there are so many injured…”

Kyouka kept talking for a while. Lengthy explanations about their friends, the status of the world, how things were changing now that the League had finally been defeated. Underneath her fatigue shone an obvious glimmer of hope. Hope for the new world she and their friends had fought so long and hard to bring about. Hope for a future far brighter than the dark and miserable present they’d been stuck in for what felt like forever. 

And yet, though he knew this information was important, he was finding it difficult to care. 

He needed to know. He needed to know what had happened to his family. 

After a while, Kyouka’s diatribe slowly wound its way to a close. For a moment, the two sat in silence, gazing at one another, not certain how to proceed. 

Finally, Denki worked up the last of his courage and asked. 

“A-and… my family?”

It was evident from Kyouka’s reaction that she’d been waiting for this exact question, but from the way she hesitated, the way that she averted her gaze, the way she drew in her shoulders even as she took in a slow, steadying breath… he already knew the answer. 

“Your father… was arrested. He was apparently caught early on in the battle, and he went quietly, without much hassle.”

Denki nodded. That was a relief. 

“...and?”

She still wasn’t looking at him. She had her eyes glued to their hands, still clasped together on top of Denki’s hospital-issued bedsheets. 

“...we haven’t been able to find your sister,” she whispered, and this time, it was Kyouka’s voice that sounded raspy. “I-it’s possible that she managed to escape, but… Some of the captured PLF members stated that they saw her in the area that Shigaraki had been fighting Midoriya, and m-most of that part of the city was destroyed in the fight, so…”

She escaped, he thought desperately, lying to himself in a vain attempt to keep the despair at bay. She was smart and she was fast. She would have found some way to make it out alive… She had to… 

But now they’d arrived at the question he’d most wanted answered, and Kyouka had stopped talking again. Her hand was squeezing his, almost painfully, and her eyes were hidden behind her bangs. 

He tightened his hand in hers, willing her to look at him, as he asked, barely more than a whisper, “...and my mom?”

But Kyouka shook her head, raising her free hand to wipe at her eyes. 

“We…” she began, only to stop because she had to clear her throat to keep going. She finally met his eyes again, and the hurt and pain that she felt for him was so raw that he felt it press down on him like a physical force, stopping his breathing. 

“We found her body in the river not too far away from where we found you. She… She was already dead when we got to her.”

The words seemed to linger in the air for a moment like clouds, dense and obtrusive. 

He could still see her standing on the edge of the dam. 

He shook his head, denying, refusing. It couldn’t be. 

If he’d survived, then why…?

What had been the point of everything?!

He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he took a gasping breath that sent shockwaves of pain down his body. 

He cried. He cried and cried for who knows how long, and Kyouka held his hand and cried with him. In his mind’s eye, he could still see his mother, hugging him when he got his UA acceptance letter, lying in her hospital bed as they fought, standing at the bottom of the staircase and telling him she loved him. 

The madness in her eyes on the ledge of the dam. The way she’d lunged for him when it burst. Had she been trying to help him? Or stop him and save the PLF? He didn’t know. He’d never know. 

She’d been right next to him. Right there. It wasn’t fair. He could have reached out and touched her. And in a way, he was still reaching, his hand still desperately grasping, coming up empty, like when he’d awoken in the dark, trapped under the rubble. 

But he’d never hold her hand again. Never see her smile. Never get the chance to try to make up for what he’d done, to her, to their family. 

All of this had started because he’d been so determined to save them. And he had failed in the most spectacular way imaginable. 

He was Denki Kaminari, and he had killed his own mother. 

And so, as Kyouka held his hand, as his friends began to stir around him, Denki cried. 

Because what else could he do?

It was over, finally. And he had lost it all.  

Finally, after endless deliberation, Emi pulled the door open, striding into the room and closing it behind her with a snap. Immediately, she turned her attention to the room's only occupant, doing her best to look calm and in control. 

It didn’t matter. Denki wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes, distant and depressed, were staring at the floor without seeing. He didn’t even seem to notice she was there. 

Her brother’s makeshift prison cell was actually a janitor’s closet. The room was small, somewhat filthy, and dimly lit by a single old lightbulb that dangled down from the low ceiling above them. They’d handcuffed him to some metal shelves that his Quirk wouldn’t have any effect on and had removed all of the old cleaning supplies before he’d arrived. 

There, seated in the dust, captured and alone with his eyes devoid of hope… This was supposed to be everything she’d ever wanted. 

She swallowed uncomfortably as the silence stretched on and her brother continued to ignore her existence. 

To be honest, she wasn’t completely sure why she was there. Or, well… no, she knew exactly why she was there, she just wasn’t willing to admit it to herself. 

She was supposed to be gloating. She was supposed to be delighting in the fact that she’d brought him down low, that he was finally made to wallow in the same squalor he’d left her and their father in all those years ago. 

This is what he deserved. This is what happens when you betray the people who trust you. 

The thought made her arm twitch. 

Where had her heat gone? Where was the rage, the fury? Why was it that she was only now second-guessing herself? After she’d come so far? After she’d done so much?

But she knew the reason. She knew it, but she resisted voicing it, even in her head, because the thought alone was incredibly painful. 

She wasn’t supposed to find herself suddenly empathizing with her brother. 

She could still remember, albeit dimly, the day that her brother had come home from UA after performing the betrayal that had set Shigaraki’s war in motion. He’d been so quiet, so withdrawn. So unlike himself. 

She remembered how jealous she was of him when he first went off to school. The fact that he’d gotten into some prestigious academy, that he was on the fast-track to fame and riches, was certainly something worth being jealous about. But honestly, it had more to do with the fact that he was getting out of Deika, away from the MLA, away from their parents. He was starting a new life, on his own, where he’d make his own friends and finally be free. And she’d resented him for it initially, because deep down, she wanted that for herself, too. 

But then Shigaraki had taken over, the MLA leaders had made him betray his friends, and when he came home… he was broken. He wasn’t the same goofy, bright-eyed, idiot of a brother she’d always known. He hid himself up in his room. He wouldn’t talk to her, or to their parents, or to anybody. Their mom hardly seemed to notice, carrying on like nothing was wrong, but her dad had pulled her aside and advised that they give Denki some space. And so she’d tried. Because despite how the two had always used to fight, she still cared about him. He was her big brother, after all. 

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?”

Emi took a deep breath and let it out in a soft rush. 

It was time. Time to finally confront her brother. Time to regain the heat and the rage that she’d somehow lost over the course of the day because she would need it to see herself through to the end. Time to put things to rights. 

“You brought this on yourself, you know.”

That was supposed to come out colder and harsher than it actually did. To her ears, it sounded like she was a child reading lines for a school play. 

Denki let out a short, humorless laugh. 

“You know, I could almost forgive you if that was really the case.”

She balled her hands into fists, feeling some of her old temper returning. Good, there it was. She hadn’t lost it after all. 

“Don’t sit there and try to tell me that you don’t deserve this, Denki.”

“I’m not talking about me, Emiko,” he said, and finally, he turned his gaze away from the floor to look at her. “I’m talking about my kids.”

For a moment, Emi was speechless. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, exactly. Now that they were here, now that she’d brought him down to his lowest moment… She’d expected him to look like their parents. The madness that had shone behind her mother’s gaze there at the end, the madness that even now had taken ahold of their father, the madness she had started to recognize nestled deep within herself - evidence of a singular, all-consuming desire that made them abandon everything and anything else in their lives. The thing she had thought united them as a family, for better or, as it seemed clear to her, for worse… 

Denki didn’t have that. His eyes were cold and sharp and furious, but there was no hint of madness there. He was still himself. 

She didn’t know why she found that thought relieving. 

“Well I am talking about you,” she retorted, both as a way to hold on to her anger as well as to avoid talking about her niece and nephew and her complicated feelings about what she’d done. “I’ve waited ten years for this, Denki. Ten years to make you own up to what you did to mom. No more running. You’ve lived this picture-perfect carefree life for the last ten years, built upon what you did to us, but I’m finally going to get the justice she deserves.”

By the time she finished speaking, her voice was trembling. She’d waited so long for this moment. Finally… Finally, it was going to come to an end.

She’d expected Denki to deflect. To deny his guilt, or maybe lash out. 

Instead, he rested his head against one of the shelves, still gazing up at her with his cold eyes, only now instead of furious, they looked empty and dead. 

“...Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper. 

“What?”

“You really think that I’ve spent the last ten years just… living this perfect, happy life? You really think I could just ignore what I did? That I don’t still have nightmares about it? That I don’t live with the guilt every day?”

“If you think feeling a little guilty is enough to excuse you-!”

“You make it sound like I hunted her down. Do you even know how it happened?”

Emiko licked her lips, not liking how control of the conversation had been taking away from her. 

“Of course I do! You and the Heroes blew up that dam and that’s what killed her! And I know you were the one who pressed the button, Denki - everyone knows! So don’t pretend like it wasn't!”

She expected him to try to argue that it was an accident, that he hadn’t known she’d get caught in the blast. She’d imagined how this confrontation would go, over and over, so many times over the last ten years. Right after the accident, her hatred for her brother had been one of the few things that had kept her going.

“Yeah, I pressed the button. I blew the dam. I killed mom.”

Emi blinked. He admitted it? Just like that?

But he wasn't looking at her anymore. He was staring at the wall, his gaze distant and unfocused. 

“I planted the charges. We needed to stop Gigantomachia to end the war. But mom… she showed up at the dam, even though she was supposed to be avoiding the battlefield. I disobeyed the Heroes, I tried to go back and get her… but she wouldn’t listen to me. We argued. Time was running out. People were dying. I was out of options. And…”

He made an off-hand gesture, or tried to. With his wrists handcuffed to the shelf, it looked more like a twitch. The motion seemed dismissive, but from the look on his face, the tone of his voice... It was evident he just couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Emi was silent. She was supposed to have all of these insults prepared, all of these cruel comebacks. There was a weight to the conversation that had stilled her breath, that was keeping her from speaking out of turn. 

“What would you have done in my place?” he asked softly, almost like he was speaking to himself. “Hundreds of people dying. The lives of your friends and family on the line, but on different sides of the conflict. The best chance to stop Shigaraki and end the war right in front of you. Your only real shot at keeping everyone you love safe… and then your mom shows up to get in the way, and you realize the only way to save everyone is to sacrifice her. What would you have done, Emiko?”

“Don’t…” she began, her voice raspy, “Don’t sit there and pretend like you were doing this for your family-”

But he scoffed, cutting her off. 

“It was always about you, Emi. You, and mom and dad. I betrayed UA in the first place because of you, to keep you safe from Shigaraki. And I rejoined the fight after mom got hurt because I realized that you were all in danger so long as the war went on. I sided with the Heroes and betrayed the PLF specifically to end the war to keep you all safe.”

The fire inside of her was full-on blazing now. 

He had the audacity to claim that?! Pretending like he was trying to help protect them when he was the reason their family had been torn apart in the first place?!

“Don't you dare," she seethed, whole body trembling, "sit here and pretend like you were being some kind of Hero. You killed our mother!”

“Because I had no choice!” he shot back, struggling to straighten up but unable to due to the way his wrists were handcuffed to the shelf.

"No choice?" she parroted, her voice raising an entire octave. "I don't know, Denki, how about 'not killing her'?"

"People were dying, Emiko!" he shot back, struggling to rise so he could face her on his feet, but he'd been shackled to the lowest shelf and couldn't do more than crouch. "I argued with her! Pleaded with her to get down off the dam, but she wouldn't listen! You remember - you know what she was like! If we had waited any longer, Machia and Shigaraki could have united and the Heroes would have lost! Or did you really want Shigaraki to win the war?"

"This isn't about Shigaraki or the PLF!" she screamed, absolutely beside herself. "This is about us, our family! This is about you killing mom!"

"Mom died because of the PLF," Denki grated. "Try to divorce the two if you want, but you know as well as I do how obsessed she was. Hate me all you want, but you can't say I didn't try-!"

“Sure,” she cut in sarcastically. “You tried. Congratulations. If that’s the lie you have to tell yourself to get by-”

“Yeah, and what lie are you telling yourself?” he snarled, and she blinked. 

“What?”

“You think you can sit there and patronize me about what went down with me and mom, but you literally just kidnapped your own niece and nephew to get back at me. You’re working with the people who nearly killed them in a fire! What lies are you telling yourself about what’s going to happen to them? Or do you think they somehow deserve what you’re going to do to them?”

The sudden change in topic left her sputtering like a bucket of water to the face. He wasn't supposed to turn this around on her, this was about Denki and the mistakes he'd made.

“No,” she said quickly, interrupting. “Dad promised me we weren’t going to hurt them. They’re just bait-”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you honestly believe that. Tell me you honestly believe that dad won’t hurt them, that they’re perfectly safe here with the rest of you ex-PLF lunatics.”

She tried. She really did. She met Denki’s gaze dead on with all of the fire she could muster, but the words wouldn’t leave her lips. In her mind, she could see that light in her father’s eyes, could see Hotaru sending his in-laws place up in flames. His kids weren’t safe here. She knew that. She did. 

But she’d brought them here anyway. 

When she couldn’t answer, Denki allowed himself to settle back onto the floor, but his gaze remained on hers, dark and condemning. 

“Honestly, Emi… I can forgive you for wanting to kill me. Hell, sometimes, I even think you’re right. Maybe I do deserve to die. But you’re responsible for anything that happens to those kids today. Vilify me all you want, but you’re in the same boat now. Except this time, the family members whose blood will be on your hands aren’t adults who made the decision to be on this battlefield. You dragged children into this. And you're not going to get away with it just because you're going to kill me. You had better pray that someone else gets to you before Kyouka does.”

As though his statement had been a sign, outside, someone screamed. Both siblings looked around in surprise. It was distant, but definitely from somewhere within the warehouse. 

Emi blanched. It couldn’t be. The Heroes had arrived already?

Her first instinct was to rush off towards where she knew the other MLA members would be gathering, but something held her back. Yuu was still upstairs with the kids. If the Heroes had arrived, it was possible that someone in the MLA might try to use them as hostages to secure their escape. They could get hurt. 

She held Denki's gaze for another moment. She had come here for a specific reason, but it seemed their time together had been cut short. It was possible this was the last time she'd ever see him - either because her father would succeed in killing him or because the Heroes would arrive and rescue him. Either way, she'd failed in settling anything. They were out of time.

If nothing else, however, their conversation had helped her finally come to one conclusion.

Emi turned and left the room without another word. She’d come to Denki seeking confirmation, hoping that talking about what had happened to their mother would steel her resolve and help clear away the doubts that had begun piling up in her mind. Instead, she felt worse than ever. 

The problem was that he was right. She’d kidnapped his kids because she was told to, because she ignored the voice in her head that told her it was wrong, believing that it would work out in the end. For the first time, she finally understood what Denki must have been going through after he’d returned from betraying UA. Sick with guilt. Constantly second-guessing. Not knowing whether the side you were on was the right one, or if there even was a right side. 

There were differences, though. No one had died yet due to Emi’s mistake. And while she still wasn’t certain about what she wanted done to her brother, while a large part of her still thought he needed to pay for taking her mother away from her… another part, a larger part, was telling her that what mattered most at this moment, as the Heroes began to descend upon them, as open warfare between Pros and the MLA broke out once again for the first time in a decade… was making up for her mistake. 

Denki would have to handle himself. He got himself into this mess, he’d need to see it through. 

But as for her... maybe it was time she stopped caring about what her father wanted, or what her mother had wanted, or even what Denki wanted. Maybe it was time to focus on what she wanted. And right now, what she wanted was to get her niece and nephew out of here, even if it landed her in prison with her father. 

Maybe she wouldn’t be forgiven, but at the very least, she didn’t want their blood on her hands. 

Aika sat uncomfortably in the corner of her cage, hugging her little brother and doing her best to appear calm and strong so that he didn’t get any more scared than he already was. 

The truth, however, was that she was more scared than she’d ever been in her entire life, and she wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it. 

There they’d been, sitting at a table outside a restaurant, enjoying the sunshine and the cake that their dad’s cousin Emi had got for them… and then all of a sudden, their dad had rushed off by himself across the street. Then a car had pulled up, and Emi had told them that it wasn’t safe and that they needed to get in so that she could protect them, and she’d gone along with it because it was Emi and her dad had seemed to trust her and she was scared for Raidin and didn’t want him to be attacked again and then…

Here they were. In a cage. In a building full of strangers.

They’d been kidnapped. 

Her dad has always used to warn her about this. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t ever get into a car with someone you don’t know. Sometimes, bad men kidnapped little kids. If you got kidnapped, you might never see your family again. 

But… Emi wasn’t a bad person. She couldn’t be. She’d saved Rai from that fire. She’d even bought her a cake for her birthday. She was her dad’s cousin… wasn’t she? Though she’d never heard about her dad having a cousin before. Actually, he’d never talked about his family ever. She’d tried asking, but it had made him so sad… Maybe something happened to them. Maybe he couldn’t ever see them again, which is why he didn’t like talking about them. 

Was… Was she never going to see her family again?

Rai sniffled in her arms, and she shook the thought off. 

“It’s ok, Rai,” she murmured for what felt like the millionth time. “Mom is coming. Mom’s going to save us.”

The room they were in was stark and quiet, lit by off-color light bulbs overhead that made everything seem blue. There was furniture in here; an old couch, some chairs, a fridge, a table that had been pushed aside to make room for their cage. Other than that, though, the room was pretty small and ordinary.

The cage itself wasn’t very big. Tall enough that Rai could stand up straight, but Aika needed to hunch over. Wide enough for them to sit side-by-side comfortably. Just long enough for her to lay out on her back without touching either end. There was a door on the front, but it had a padlock on it, and she didn’t know where the key was. She’d considered sticking her jacks into it to see if she could unlock it like they did in cartoons, but she had a feeling she’d get in trouble if their guard saw her, and she didn’t want them to try to hurt her or Rai. 

Their guard, who was also the only person they’d seen since they’d been locked up, was a teenage boy. Aika didn’t know kidnappers could be teenage boys. She always thought they were scary old men with evil faces. This boy didn’t look evil, though. He looked nice and, actually, uncomfortable. He hadn’t said anything to them since he’d come in to watch them, but he’d given them some snacks and some bottles of water, which they hadn’t touched, and was now sitting on a chair near the door, playing with his phone and trying not to look at them. 

Weirdly, he almost looked as scared as she was. 

She didn’t know how long they’d been in there now, but it had probably been a few hours. Long enough for her and Rai to stop crying. Long enough for her to admit that she’d grown a little bored, even if she was still scared. 

The only thing she had to pass the time was the ring her dad had given her just before he’d run off. She’d stuffed it in her pocket when Emi had told her to get in the car, and she’d forgotten all about it until she’d been stuck in here for a while and had nothing to do. She’d been turning it over in her hands for about an hour now, looking at it, wondering where it came from and why her dad had taken it off. Ultimately, though, she wasn’t super interested in it; it was just something to do while she waited for someone to save her. 

Idly, she threaded the ring through one of her long, stringy earlobes, watching it slide up and down as she wiggled it through the air before slowly winding her jack around it, watching it spin. The metal part of the jack made contact with the ring with a soft click, and suddenly, understanding bloomed in her mind through her Quirk. 

There was a computer chip in here. 

She didn’t know what it did. There wasn’t anywhere on the ring for her to plug her jack into, but it seemed like it didn’t matter; the ring was made of metal and it conducted electricity, so she could connect to it just fine. The computer chip or whatever it was didn’t have a battery. Maybe it was designed for her dad to use his own electricity on? She didn’t have as powerful a Quirk as her dad did - she couldn’t shoot lightning around everywhere like him - but what little electricity she could produce was usually enough for small electronic devices. Maybe it would work here too?

For lack of anything better to do with her time, she touched both of her jacks to the ring and gave it a little zap. 

It sparked in her hand with a pop and a bright pinprick of light, making Rai and their teenage guard jump. In her mind’s eye, through her Quirk, she had the impression that something had just been sent out to somewhere far away, like… like a sound, or a message…

“The hell was that?” came a familiar voice, and Aika jumped in fear, dropping the heavy ring onto the floor with a loud clatter. 

A man had walked into the room and was now glaring down at her with a twisted smirk on his face. She recognized him vaguely as the driver of the car that Emi had pushed her and her brother into. He was short and kind of bony, with an overly-big head and puffy fish lips. While Emi and the teenage boy who was watching them didn’t really seem like kidnappers to Aika, this scary man definitely did. And the way that he was staring at her made her draw Rai closer into her arms as though that would somehow keep them both safe. 

“What are you doing here, Yaso?” the teenager cut in, the tone of his voice clearly indicating that he wasn’t a fan of the scary man either, and Yaso turned to shoot the boy a condescending look. 

“Oh, Yuu. I didn’t see you there. Figures Emi would want to keep all of her little pets locked up in one place.”

“I’m here,” Yuu snarled, getting to his feet, “to keep an eye on them. What are you doing here, Yaso? Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be?”

The older man shrugged, turning his attention back to the kids. 

“Eh, what does it matter? The old man has Emi’s brother, just like they wanted. Soon enough, the brats’ dad will be dead, and then the Pros will probably show up and we’ll all be in for the fight of our lives. Pretty stupid if you ask me, but eh…”

He stepped closer, smiling down at them, and for a moment, Aika didn’t know if it was Rai who was shaking or if it was her. 

Mom, where are you?

Yaso fished around in his pocket for a moment before stooping down in front of the cage. 

“Y’know, I’m still surprised that Emi actually went along with the plan. I thought for sure she’d chicken out at the last minute, come up with some excuse to not have to go through with it. But no, here you are - she actually kidnapped her own niece and nephew. Maybe she’s tougher than I gave her credit for.”

The way that he laughed, the way that Rai shuddered, the way he spoke so casually of their kidnapping, sent Aika’s fear through the roof. But somewhere in there, mixed into her terror, was a sudden flash of anger. 

“We’re not her niece and nephew!” Aika shouted, as though that mattered at all - though, in a weird way, it felt like it was suddenly really important that she correct this scary man and prove him wrong, as if that would somehow make her feel less powerless. “She’s just our dad’s cousin!”

Yaso, who had been fiddling with the padlock on the front of the cage, stopped to blink at her in surprise. 

“What, is that what she told you?”

And then he laughed, the coldest, meanest laugh Aika had ever heard. 

There was a click, and the padlock dropped off of the front of the cage. 

“W-wait,” Yuu said, suddenly sounding anxious. “What are you doing?!”

“I don’t mean to break your heart, kid,” Yaso said, ignoring the teenage boy and slowly pulling the door of the cage open. “But you were lied to. Emiko is your dad’s younger sister. What else has your dad been lying to you about, I wonder? I bet he never told you that he was a villain, huh? Or that he betrayed all of us, or that it’s his fault your grandfather has been in jail for the last decade, or what it was he did to your grandma… I bet there’s all kinds of things your daddy never told you. How ‘bout I make you a deal? You come here, and I’ll tell you all about ‘em.”

He was holding a hand out as though he expected her to come to him willingly. 

Instead, Aika shrank back, pulling Rai behind her. 

“Y-you’re a liar. Dad… Dad was never a… a villain…”

Yaso smirked cruelly, opening his mouth to respond, only to let out a hoarse grunt of surprise as Yuu, the teenage boy, suddenly stepped forward and shoved him, causing him to lose balance and topple over onto the floor. 

“Gah! What the hell?!” he shouted, glowering up at Yuu, but the boy had placed himself protectively in front of the cage. 

“Emi kept me here to protect them!” he shouted, trying his best to sound brave, but it was obvious from the look on his face that he was just as scared as Aika was. “You’re not supposed to be here, Yaso! Get back to your post, or I’m going to tell Emi-!”

“Tell her what?” Yaso scoffed darkly, picking himself back up off the floor. “She doesn’t have time to come here and deal with me - not now that we caught her brother, not now that the Pros are on the way. You always talk a big game when Emi’s around to protect you, but she’s not here now. So come on, you Quirkless little piece of shit. Show me what you’ve got.”

Yuu hesitated, drawing himself up to his full height, clearly not sure what to do. Then, after a moment, he let out a yell and threw a punch right at Yaso’s face. 

Or tried to. The bony man caught his hand in the air, and then a moment later, Yuu was screaming. 

Aika was horrified. Within seconds, Yuu had fallen to his knees, every muscle in his body taut as he screamed. It was the most agonizing, blood-curdling sound Aika had ever heard.

The door to the cage was still open. This was her chance!

She seized Rai by has arm, surging to her feet, rushing towards the door and the promise of escape, but before she could make it, Yaso was there.  

He released Yuu’s hand and the boy fell to the ground, senseless and whimpering, curled up in the fetal position. Aika tried to push Rai back, but the older man’s hand shot into the cage and caught her by the arm, forcefully dragging her out. Rai shouted in fear, and Aika cried out as her arm was twisted painfully behind her back. 

A moment later, she was standing on her tiptoes, her arm secured behind her back by one of Yaso’s hands as the other slapped itself over her mouth, muffling her cries of pain. 

“Let me tell you about my Quirk, kid,” Yaso said, breathing heavily into her ear. “It’s called ‘Agony’. Just by touching someone, I can make them feel the most exquisite pain imaginable. It’s not all that strong compared to folks like your parents, but I’ve found a lot of uses for it.”

Her arm hurt. His hands were big and rough and gross. She tried to shout, to call out for her mom even though she knew she couldn’t hear her, even with her Quirk, but Yaso had her mouth covered and she couldn’t do more than squeal. Rai was still in the cage, hunched over, watching in wide-eyed horror. 

“Now, you may be wondering, ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Well, that’s pretty simple. You can thank your aunt for this. That little bitch is always walking around, lookin’ down her nose at me. But after today, this will all be over. We’re gonna kill your dad, give him what he deserves for what he did to us, but then after that? The Pros will probably hunt the rest of us down. But that’s fine by me. So long as I can do what I love best, that’s all I care about. And since I can’t touch that girl herself, well… I figured I’d go for the next best thing. Besides, something tells me that hurting you three will be more effective anyway.”

And then there was pain. 

It was indescribable. It came from everywhere, above and below, outside and within. Pain, like had been lit on fire. Pain, like millions of needles stabbing into her. Pain, like she was being crushed beneath an enormous weight. She screamed and screamed and screamed but time had lost all meaning and there was nothing else that existed in the world but pain and screaming and pain. 

And then, suddenly, just as she thought she’d certainly lose her mind, a familiar voice shouted, barely audible over the sound of her screams, “Let my sister go!” and then Rai was there, right in front of her, full of fear and four-year-old fury, and he clapped his hands right in Yaso’s face.

A boom shook the office, rattling the cage and all of the furniture. A few of the light fixtures overhead exploded in a salvo of sparks and glass.

Aika’s heels hit the floor as she was released, and she stumbled to the side, nearly losing her balance, just barely catching herself on the wall of the cage. It took her a second to realize that she couldn’t hear anything other than a loud ringing in her ears. Her vision swam, tears dripped down her cheeks, and her head seemed to throb with both the aftershocks of Yaso and her brother’s Quirks. 

She turned her head, disoriented, struggling to keep her balance, only to find Yaso was in even worse shape than she was. 

He’d collapsed backward onto the ground, blinking stupidly at the ceiling as blood dribbled out of his ears and nose. He tried to pick himself up, but the damage Rai had done to his eardrums seemed to have robbed him of his equilibrium, and he was having trouble getting his limbs to move correctly. 

Someone grabbed her hand. It was Rai. He was shouting something, but she couldn’t hear. It didn’t matter though; he was tugging her in the direction of the door. Now was their chance. They had to escape before that evil man recovered. 

Still, it was hard to walk straight. She lost her balance and fell against the doorframe, struggling to reclaim her bearings. Behind her, Yaso had managed to get to all-fours and was slowly getting up, wobbling drunkenly. His mouth worked, but she still couldn’t hear. She needed to move, but her legs…!

Yaso took a step forward, then suddenly tripped and hit the floor. Behind him, she could see Yuu, still on the ground, had caught him by the ankle. He was saying something, his mouth working frantically, but she still couldn’t hear. The world around her seemed to swim. 

Rai still had her hand in his, and he tugged her along, out of the room they’d been held captive in and into the darkened hallway. 

Together, they ran. Two frightened little kids, alone in a building full of kidnappers, Rai having to support his sister so she didn’t topple over.

There had to be a way out of here. There had to be. 

Chapter Text

As luck would have it, Kyouka wound up being the closest to the PLF’s temporary hideout when Detective Nakamura sent the message out that a location had been received from Denki’s ring. 

She’d been with her sidekick Gizmo, racing up and down the abandoned alleys and less-busy sidestreets sprinkled in between the soba shop and the general location that Denki had first run into his long-lost sister so many weeks ago. This was an older, less populated part of town, so there were fewer civilians on the streets, but that didn't stop her from getting odd or concerned looks from passers-by. Using her earphone jacks, she’d been scouring the city for any potential sign of her children’s location; looking for secret underground rooms, conversations about villainous activity, hyper-focusing on every individual heartbeat to see if it matched that of her children or her husband…

That was how she’d found Denki all those years ago. After the dam had blown, after he’d stopped responding over the radio, everyone else had given him up for dead. But Kyouka, desperate, heart-broken, and delusional with grief, had refused to give up. She’d wound up saving a lot of lives in her search for Denki, but when she’d heard his heartbeat under the rubble near the river bed, the same one she’d used to secretly listen to in class every day, pretending like it was just Quirk training and the fact that she chose his heartbeat every time had no deeper meaning… The sound had been like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the clouds that had been clogging her vision all night. Her first spark of hope. 

She was experiencing that same sensation now, even as she raced to the location Nakamura had sent them, only a couple of blocks away. For the first time since her children had been taken, she felt like she’d found a secure line leading her to them. She wasn’t going to let this lead go. Single-minded determination had seen her through the worst of times before, and it would see her through again. 

The only problem was, literally everyone was trying to hold her back. 

“We can’t charge in, guns blazing!” Momo was shouting over the headset. Her best friend wasn’t far away; she and Mina had both split up to cover more ground but had stayed near enough to Kyouka and Gizmo so they could keep their promise to Detective Nakamura about keeping an eye on her. “We don’t know how many PLF members are in there! We’re facing unknown numbers with unknown Quirks, and they have hostages! I know how you feel, Kyouka, but we need to be smart about this!”

Momo was right, of course. She usually was. But just as Nakamura had feared, logic had seemingly vacated Kyouka’s brain entirely, leaving behind nothing but a ravenous, all-consuming fury. 

Her kids and her husband were being held captive by a cult of deranged homicidal lunatics with a bone to pick, and they really thought she was going to stand around outside the building and wait?!

Her friends were on the way, of course. Not just Momo and Mina, but Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, Mineta, Sero, Kouda, and others. All bringing along sidekicks. They would be here within the hour, most within a few minutes. Considering how far apart most of their typical stomping grounds were, even within the same city, that was quite a feat. 

The problem was, her family may not have minutes. There was no telling when Renjirou was going to follow through with his threat and kill them. For all she knew, they could already be dead. 

The street the hideout was on was wide and, predictably, abandoned. It looked like a warehouse district, albeit a defunct one. Most of the buildings here were large but had seemingly gone out of business years ago. Dirty windows, unkempt trees, litter on the streets… Some of the buildings had signs out front indicating that they either were for sale or had already been sold. 

The building in question, however, did not have any such sign. Ten years of abandonment had done a number on its facade; some of the windows on the ground floor had been boarded up, the grass out front was dead and brown, and the heavy chain that sealed the double-doored entrance was rusted with age. Even so, it was obvious to Kyouka, now that she was looking, that it was much more heavily trafficked than the buildings that surrounded it. The walkway up to the building from the street had less dust, and if you looked, you could see footprints in some of the dirt patches mixed among the dead grass. 

This must be one of the old Detnerat Inc. warehouses that had somehow flown under the radar during the purge a decade ago. It was a large building, around four or five stories high, give or take, with a cracked concrete exterior and haunted, empty windows. There was a road leading around to the back of the building, presumably where trucks would load and unload cargo. She was willing to bet that was where the actual entrance was. 

She immediately started back in that direction, using her jacks to sense for human presence, when Gizmo caught her by the arm. 

“Boss,” he said, sounding equal parts nervous and firm. “You know you can’t go in there by yourself.”

She shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder. In her aggravated state, everything seemed to be irritating her, even him. What with his height, his stupid lab coat, his dorky tool belt, his flyaway hair. He never used to tell her what to do before. Clearly, she’d been too lax on her sidekick. 

“I’m just doing recon, Giz,” she said, fully aware of how tense and snappy her voice sounded. “That’s my job, remember?”

“Sure, yeah,” he said, releasing her arm and scratching at the side of his head awkwardly. “Of course. I knew that.”

Of course, if she ‘happened’ to stumble across the entrance and then just ‘happened’ to take the guards out herself, well… sometimes, that was the way things went. 

Unfortunately for her, before she even made it half of the way towards the back of the building, she was interrupted yet again by the arrival of Mina, skating swiftly on her acid-squirting shoes. And Mina wasn’t as easily cowed as Kyouka’s naive little sidekick. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Kyouka?” her pink-skinned friend demanded, sliding around Kyouka and Gizmo and coming to a stylish and athletic halt directly in front of them, blocking their way. 

“S-she’s just doing recon!” Gizmo piped up, either defending her or, more likely, defending himself for allowing her to do it, his hands held up in a way that was probably supposed to be placating but instead made him look like he was surrendering. 

Mina shot him a flat look that seemed to say ‘and exactly how stupid do you think I am?’

Excuses weren’t going to cut it for Mina. She wasn’t book-smart like Momo or Gizmo, but she was a genius when it came to reading people, and she could see through Kyouka like a windowpane. 

“We’re running out of time,” Kyouka said, dropping all pretense. “Hell, we may be out of time already!”

“The others will be here in a few minutes-!”

“A few minutes we may not have!” Kyouka cut in, taking care not to shout just in case they were overheard, though it was admittedly a struggle. “And what’s going to happen when they do get here? We’ll stand around for a couple of minutes debating and then someone is going to have to conduct recon so we can find out where the hostages are and how many enemies we’re up against! I’m not a fighter like Bakugou or Todoroki, and I’m not an all-around genius like Momo, but I am the best Support Pro in the city, so stop wasting time and let me do my job!”

After a moment of stern frowning, which was about as mad as Mina usually got, she relented. 

“Fine,” she mumbled, clearly sulking. “But I’m coming with you.”

“Me too,” Gizmo chimed in, not wanting to be left out. 

“Whatever.”

So long as neither of them tried to radio Momo or Bakugou to tell them what they were up to, that was fine. But now that Mina was here, they suddenly had more options. 

Stepping closer to the wall, Kyouka stabbed the metal tip against the outer stone, warm from a day of baking in the sunlight, and focused all of her attention on listening. 

It came to her in undulating waves, in echoes that wafted up out of the void. She sometimes wondered if this was how bats or whales saw the world. She’d need to ask Kouda one of these days. Eventually, a picture began to form in her head. 

“What do we got?” Mina asked after a moment, whispering as though that would interfere less with Kyouka’s Quirk. 

“It’s big,” she replied softly. “Maybe… four floors in total above ground, but they’re unusually tall. Lots of shelves - like, lots of shelves - and wide-open space for merchandise. Can’t tell what kind. There’s a basement as well.”

“And bodies?”

Kyouka grunted, then shook her head. 

“Too many to get an accurate count. I’d say around three dozen, spread all around, including a few near the back where the entrance probably is. I can’t pick out Denki or the kids from here, not with all the distractions. They must be too far away.”

Mina made a disgruntled face. 

“Three dozen? And we don’t know any of their Quirks aside from Renjirou’s and Emiko’s. This could turn ugly fast.”

“But there’s good news,” Kyouka continued, shooting Mina an expectant look. 

“Oh?”

“There’s no one on the other side of this wall.”

It took Mina a second to see what Kyouka was getting at. When it finally clicked, she blanched. 

“What?! You want me to melt a hole through the wall?!”

“It’s the safest way in,” Kyouka countered hastily. “We’ll sneak in, and once we’re closer, I’ll be able to use my Quirk to pinpoint Denki and the kids’ location. We’ll transmit that info to the others once they arrive and we can coordinate our attack. It’s our best plan.”

Kyouka would have found a way into the building regardless, but the best part about this particular excuse was that she was right. None of the other Pros who were on the way would be able to pinpoint the hostages from outside of the building. They were mostly specialized in taking down large or violent villains, subduing groups, or quick apprehension. Perfect for a raid, but less so when they didn’t know what they were up against or where the hostages were. Sure, a couple of the sidekicks her friends were bringing had sensory Quirks like hers, but none had Kyouka’s range or her familiarity with her family. 

There was very little that was professional in Kyouka’s reasoning if she were being honest, but even if she was actually motivated by rage and fear, it didn’t matter so long as she was right. 

“I don’t know, Kyouka…” Mina said, trying to deflect, but Kyouka held her gaze. 

“Mina, please… My kids are in there.”

It was a cheap move, and it wouldn’t have worked on someone more serious like Iida or Momo. But Mina wore her heart on her sleeve, for better or for worse, and she quickly gave in. 

A moment later, a hole had been melted into the outer wall by Mina’s powerful acid, and the three Heroes slipped their way quietly into the building. 

They’d entered into what appeared to be a bathroom, though, from the layers of dust on the floor and the hollow sounds from the pipes under the tile, it wasn’t being used. After checking their surroundings again with a jack to the wall, Kyouka gave a signal indicating the coast was clear, and together they snuck out into the outer room. 

They were in the warehouse proper now, and Kyouka was instantly grateful that Nakamura had sent along blueprints of the building when she’d sent out the address because it made her job of scurrying around under cover of darkness that much easier - though of course a villain hideout could have made any number of modifications since the construction of the building and they weren't always completely accurate. 

The bulk of each floor consisted primarily of storage space. The backside of the ground floor was the loading bay, where shipments had been dropped off and loaded up when the warehouse had been up and running. Much of the intervening space was filled with row upon row of shelves or pallets stacked high with old, unused merchandise. The rows ran perpendicular to the wall along the north and south sides of the building, but in the central-eastern portion of the warehouse, they switched direction and ran from north to south, forming a large 'U'.

Detnerat Inc had been Re-Destro’s business, a front and source of financial power that he used to fund and support the MLA. They sold everything from clothing for Quirk users of all body types to support gear for Heroes (or villains, more often than not), and the shelves and pallets were stuffed to the brim with everything from dusty coats and specially designed footwear to belts and shields and more specific tools that would be of more use in combat. 

The warehouse itself was dimly lit, and Kyouka was immediately grateful that they’d entered in through the bathroom. They could close the door behind them and hide the sunlight streaming in from the hole they’d made in the outer wall which would have immediately given them away. As it was, they’d exited the bathroom in an untrafficked part of the warehouse, if the layers of dust were anything to go by. To their left was a wall and a few rows of old forklifts, as well as a freight elevator that presumably led up to the higher floors. To their right, rows and rows of shelving that served as perfect hiding places. 

As the trio ducked down behind a nearby pallet full of what appeared to be rolls of capture tape, Kyouka carefully used her Quirk to sense around for any sentries who may have drawn near since her last scan. Surely they must have a few; they had to be prepared for the possibility of the Pros coming after them. 

From what feedback she was getting from her ears, however, it seemed like the bulk of the villains were up on the second floor. There were a few on this floor, of course, slowly pacing around the center of the warehouse or stationed back near the rear entrance, and there were a couple in the central walled-off portion that held the front entrance as well as the returns area. However, there didn’t seem to be any nearby. 

What held Kyouka’s attention, however, was the fact that she still didn’t sense her husband or children. She should have been close enough now, but... with so many bodies in the building, it was hard to get an accurate reading. They must be upstairs with the rest. 

Unfortunately for them, the staircase on the south side of the building, where they’d entered, was apparently being guarded. But from what she could gather with her ears, the staircase on the north side was not. Whether these PLF remnants were being lax, or someone had slipped away for a moment, she didn’t know, but it worked in her favor, so she didn’t question it. 

Thanks to Kyouka’s Quirk and the endless rows of tall, packed shelving, sneaking past the handful of sentries on the ground floor proved fairly simple. She could hear each of their locations, tell from their footsteps which direction they were facing. Because there were only a few, slipping past them, even across such a large warehouse, wound up being surprisingly easy. A little too easy, if she were being honest. Though that would change once they reached the second floor, where the majority of the PLF members were apparently waiting. 

The northern stairwell was cold and dark, just like the warehouse proper. Thick cement walls cut off sunlight and prevented the outer summer warmth from seeping in. She couldn’t hear anyone here, but the trio made their way up the stairs as quietly as possible so as to not draw attention to themselves. 

They paused once more in front of the doors to the second floor so Kyouka could use her Quirk again. She stabbed her jack into the wall, closing her eyes and focusing all of her attention on the multiple vibrations echoing out from all over the large, old building. 

The first thing that caught her attention was some sort of commotion upstairs. Someone was running, though not towards them. It was an adult, though from what she could tell, they were smaller than Denki. Female, perhaps… or just a small male. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t her husband or her kids, so they could wait. 

She still couldn’t hear her kids. She refused to consider what that might mean. There were a lot of bodies on the second floor; they might have been masked by sheer numbers… though there was something up on the third floor that might have been them. There was something off about the heartbeats, though. Almost like something was muffling the noise. Were they… wrapped up in something? Or was that just a villain with a strange body?

She wanted to investigate, but that was up on the other side of the building, and it sounded like there were people right above them, just outside the stairwell entrance to the third floor. They could climb all the way up to the fourth floor, which sounded mostly abandoned, cross the building again and descend the southern staircase, or they could try crossing floor two and ascending there, even though it had the most people on it. 

What made up her mind was a familiar thumping sound echoing from close by. She hadn’t noticed at first because she’d been looking for her kids, but there, only a dozen or so meters away, in another room, was the sound of her husband’s heartbeat. 

“Denki,” she breathed, speaking aloud without realizing. 

“What? Is he close?!”

Rather than answer, Kyouka pushed the door to the second floor open and strode out into yet another warehouse floor stuffed to the brim with shelves and pallets full of junk. Her Quirk had alerted her ahead of time that the path was free and devoid of PLF members. Why was that? Even a group of renegades had to have known how to better guard their own base. The PLF members she’d fought ten years ago had been much better organized. 

Whatever. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. She was only here for her family. She would focus on the PLF later. 

From what she could hear, most of the PLF members here were gathered around the central part of the warehouse. Much like the ground floor, the warehouse portion formed a large ‘U’ shape around a walled-off ‘room’ near the front of the building. On the ground floor, that room was the front entrance and reception area. On the second floor (and also the fourth), according to the schematics, it was a break room; the third floor held offices for the warehouse management. 

Kyouka and co. had exited the stairwell on the north side of the building, on the side of the breakroom, hidden from the other PLF members who were somewhere to their left by the many walls of shelving. To their right was a dead-end that held nothing but a pair of bathrooms, a cluster of old, rotted push brooms, and a janitor’s closet. 

“He’s in there,” she said, pointing to the janitor’s closet. He was so close. “Mina, would you-?”

“Hold on,” Gizmo cut in even as Mina strode forward, “you should probably let me handle this. Don’t want to leave too many breadcrumbs…”

Mina shrugged, stepping back, and Gizmo approached the old wooden door, fishing two small bits of metal out of his toolbelt. 

Part of Kyouka wanted to argue. Using Mina’s acid would have been faster. Plus, it’s not like leaving the door intact was going to fool the PLF for long. As soon as they opened it, they’d know Denki had escaped, and all hell would break loose. 

On the other hand, she knew she wasn’t in the right headspace to be making decisions right now. Even if it only bought them a couple extra seconds, it would be worth it if those seconds saved their kids. 

A moment later, Gizmo managed to successfully pick the lock, and with a soft creak, the door to the janitor’s closet swung open. 

And there he was. Denki, her husband. Alive and seemingly unharmed. 

He was sitting on the floor, handcuffed to an empty shelf. He looked up when the door opened, his expression guarded, only for it to change into a slack-jawed gape when he saw who was standing on the other side of it. 

“Kyouka-?!”

“Shh!’ Mina hissed, looking alarmed, but a moment later Kyouka had swept into the room, fallen to her knees, and wrapped her husband up in a tight hug. 

She didn’t say anything. She wanted to - there were so many things she wanted to say. But she couldn’t get the words out, so she let it be. A moment later, she let him go and got back to her feet, hastily wiping at her cheeks. 

“Giz, Mina, could you-?”

“Already on it, boss,” Gizmo said, stepping closer and kneeling down so he could touch Denki’s handcuffs. A moment later, his Welding Quirk had sliced through the metal, freeing Denki’s hands, and he was helping the older man to his feet. 

“Good to see you’re alright, Kaminari,” Gizmo said with a friendly grin, only to be shoved away by Mina as she grabbed him in a tight hug. 

“Denki!” she squeaked, overcome with emotion. “I’m so glad you’re ok!”

“What are you doing here?” he asked after Mina stepped back, his eyes and attention focused on his wife. 

“Saving you, duh,” Mina responded. 

“B-but what about the kids?!”

“We haven’t found them yet,” Kyouka replied. “They might be upstairs though. We snuck in through the outer wall to find you. I thought I heard-”

“Wait, you snuck in? Has a fight not started yet? But then who was screaming?”

There was a pause as he looked at each of their faces expectantly, but when no one supplied an answer, he began to panic. 

“I haven’t heard any screaming,” Kyouka said slowly, and coming from her, the statement had more significance. “When did you hear it? From where?”

“Upstairs, I think,” he said quickly. “I thought… I mean, I assumed it must have been you guys, but…”

“What did it sound like?”

Her question was too vague, too demanding. Her panic and anxiety were getting the better of her. Someone screaming could mean her kids.

Thankfully, Denki knew her well enough to know what she meant. 

“It was male,” he said, “young, maybe, but too old to have been Rai. This was a few minutes ago. It might have been before you entered the building. But… there was another sound after that. Female. Definitely quieter than the first scream. It… It’s hard to say from here, but… It may have been Aika.”

Kyouka’s fury had abated temporarily upon recovery of her husband, but if anyone had laid a hand on her daughter…!

“Do you know where they are?” she asked, her face tight. 

Denki shook his head. 

“I haven’t seen them - or anyone, really, except for Emi - since they locked me in here.”

A shame. But then, with Kyouka’s sense of hearing, they wouldn’t be able to hide them from her for long.

“Come on,” she said, turning to exit the room. “We’re running out of time.”

Denki caught her wrist before she could exit the closet, however. Mina and Gizmo both pushed on ahead, giving them some space. 

“Kyouka…” Denki said softly, looking down at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. “I…”

“Not now,” she cut in, voice barely more than a whisper. 

“But I-!”

“Not now,” she repeated firmly, and she reached up to grab his chin and force him to match her gaze. “There is a lot I need to say to you, but now isn’t the time. Until our kids are safe - until my family is out of here - nothing else matters.”

He nodded, looking equal parts determined and defeated, and he followed her out of the closet without another word. 

There was a lot she wanted to say to him. She wanted to scream at him for risking their children’s safety, for ever allowing himself to begin trusting his sister, for racing off by himself when he knew it was a trap. Truth be told, she wanted to beat him senseless with her fists. But there was also a part of her that had just experienced nearly losing the man she loved for the second time in her life, and she just wanted to hold him in her arms and cry. 

No time for that now. 

First, her kids. Then, revenge on Renjirou and Emiko and the entirely of the PLF. She’d deal with Denki after that. 

Only, she discovered as she and Denki rejoined Mina and Gizmo behind yet another large, dusty, junk-covered shelf, there was a problem.

The PLF members on this floor were far too many to sneak around. And they were all still clustered around the central part of the room.

They could barely see them through the shelving, but with Kyouka's Quirk, that didn't matter. Most of them were just lounging around, not patroling or anything. It was like... they were waiting for something. Only, that 'thing' clearly wasn't the Pros, because otherwise, they'd be taking this a bit more seriously.

“Shit,” Kyouka hissed, digging her fingers into her knees. “The stairs are on the other side of the room, but there’s too many to sneak around…”

They could always go back to the staircase they’d come up before, but she’d heard guards standing around the third-floor entrance. They could try fighting them off, but they’d cause a commotion that would alert everyone on the second floor to their presence...

“We could try that freight elevator we passed,” Mina suggested, but Kyouka shook her head. 

“No chance they wouldn’t hear that. If only there was a way to knock them all out at one time…”

Mina looked instinctively at Denki, but after a pause, he shook his head. 

“At least some of them have Quirks that resist mine,” he said softly. “When they captured me, someone who could turn into a large stone golem caught me from behind. I didn’t get a good look at their face, so they could be in there with the rest of them. If we mess up, he’d go wild, and that would ruin everything. I get the feeling he could tear this building apart.”

Kyouka was literally growling under her breath. 

“If only my Quirk had a wide-enough range… but at this distance, with them that spread apart…”

“Actually,” Gizmo cut in, sounding thoughtful, “we may have a workaround.”

The other three turned to stare at him, and he shrugged. 

“Look. These shelves are full of unused merchandise. A lot of it is just junk, but Detnerat prized themselves on having options for ‘Quirk users of all types’ - that went for their clothing line as well as their support gear. And some of it,” here, he paused to pull something off of the shelf that resembled a small speaker, “we may just be able to repurpose to give Jirou’s Quirk a little… boost.”

Kyouka looked around with the others. It was true; the shelves around them were apparently loaded with different kinds of speakers and amps in various sizes. Some of them looked normal. Some of them were clearly designed to be worn on one’s head, or arms, or chest, or... tail? But Detnerac didn’t sell just normal amplifiers - definitely not ones meant to be worn. These must have been for Heroes or Villains - amps and speakers meant to be used with Quirks. Maybe one of these could do the trick… or, failing that, Gizmo might just be able to put something together for her. 

Her sidekick was already at work pulling various speakers off of the shelves and giving them a look-over. 

“Yes… Yes, this should do the trick,” he murmured, clearly talking aloud to himself. “I’m familiar enough with Jirou’s support gear since I tinker on it from time to time, and these look similar… I should be able to outfit them… only…”

“Only?” Jirou parroted, already helping Mina and Denki pull more speakers off of the shelves for Gizmo to play with. 

He sighed, scratching at the back of his head. 

“Well, most of these appear to be missing their power sources. I don’t know if they’re just old, or maybe they never had them, but… Part of the problem with your gear is that they’re just not powerful enough to create a soundwave of sufficient size. Unless we can find some really long extension cords, I don’t see how we’re going to have enough juice to weaponize a big enough speaker.”

Kyouka and Mina exchanged a look before rolling their eyes in tandem. 

“Giz, I think we’ll be fine. We have a power source.”

He blinked, looking up at her in confusion, then followed her thumb as she jabbed it towards her husband. 

Denki smiled and waved. 

“Hey, one human battery, coming right up.”

Gizmo slowly pressed his palm against his face. 

“Wow… I’m so dumb.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just get to work. Mina, use your Quirk to help him break the gear apart so he can get at what he needs. Denki, you keep watch.” That last she said mainly because she knew he was hopeless when it came to machines - they already had her keeping watch, but he'd just get in Gizmo's way. 

“And you?” Denki asked, still pulling down speakers. 

“I’ll radio Momo and let her in on the plan,” she said, reaching up for her headset. “This is bound to make a lot of noise, but I know roughly where the rest of the PLF members are stationed. If we can time their break in with our attack, we should be able to capture the rest with limited fighting.”

And hopefully, avoid getting her kids caught up in the ensuing battle. 

“Actually, this is kinda exciting,” she heard Mina confiding to Gizmo as she tore through the devices and he used his Welding Quirk to arrange the pieces into something usable. “Team Thunder and Lightning, back for one night only.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m kinda geeking out,” Giz joked back in barely more than a whisper. 

Kyouka resisted the urge to join in. As true as it was that this was the first and likely only time that she and her husband would be able to use their Quirks together for Hero work, she had other things to worry about for now. 

Nothing else mattered until her kids were safe, especially not some silly teenage daydream. 

Still. It was hard not to focus on the small smile on Denki’s face. 

It took about a minute for her to explain the situation to Momo, who had already arrived outside the warehouse along with Todoroki, Kirishima, Bakugou, and Sero. Needless to say, none of her friends were pleased with her and Mina, but after enduring several choice insults from Bakugou, they agreed that the plan had actually worked out in their favor. It only took them a minute to arrange themselves around the building according to where Kyouka could sense the PLF members waiting. As soon as she gave the signal, the cavalry would charge. 

On Gizmo's end, his proficiency as a mechanical genius was on full display. With Mina tearing apart and him putting together, they'd managed to swiftly Frankenstein together a large collection of powerful speakers and had fed their old power cords to Denki who was holding them gingerly in his hand like they were fuses to a bomb. 

It wasn't pretty, exactly, but it didn't have to be. So long as it worked. 

Within just a few short minutes, Gizmo announced that he was done. At Kyouka's instruction, the three gathered behind her as she inserted her jacks into the makeshift sonic canon. 

"All of you, cover your ears and open your mouths," she said, even as Denki's Quirk activating, illuminating the row of shelves in golden light. 

It was war, finally. And the first shot was hers. 

By the time Emi had made it to the third-floor break room, it was too late. 

She stood in the doorway, out of breath, staring at the carnage and struggling to comprehend what it was she was seeing. 

The cage was open. 

The kids were gone. 

Some of the lightbulbs overhead had apparently broken, leaving the room dim and shadowed. Shards of glass glinted dimly on the floor. Yaso was here, but he was lying on the ground, blood all over his face, senseless and unresponsive. 

And there, sitting on the floor beside the dog cage, was Yuu. And he didn’t look so good. 

Emi entered the room, ignoring both Yaso and the way the glass crunched under her shoes, crouching down beside her surrogate little brother. She reached out, cupping his cheek, checking his eyes, looking for injury. 

“Yuu?” she asked, struggling to make her voice sound soft and comforting and not give in to the steadily-rising panic. “Yuu? What happened? What’s wrong?”

He met her gaze blearily, blinking a few times, but didn’t respond right away. He looked out of it, like he’d just been roused out of a deep sleep. He didn’t have blood on his face like Yaso did, but his eyes looked glassy and red and there were tears on his cheeks. 

“Emi…?” he croaked after a moment. “I… s-sorry, I can’t hear very well…”

He couldn’t hear? What did that…? No, wait - Denki’s wife, Earphone Jack, had a sound-based Quirk. Had she showed up and rescued her kids?

“Where are the kids, Yuu?” she asked, saying the words slow and loud, exaggerating her mouth movements so he could read her lips if he needed to. 

He seemed to understand because he shook his head slightly as if to clear it and said, his words slightly slurred, “Y-Yaso… came in. Opened the cage. I tried to stop him, but he… His Quirk… hurt the girl. The boy did… something… They ran out the door about a minute ago.”

Emi remained where she was for a moment, processing Yuu’s story. 

So then… the screaming she’d heard, it wasn’t the sign of the Heroes arriving. It was Yaso being a bastard and hurting Yuu and Aika while she was away. Yuu’s hearing loss must have been from Rai using his Quirk to save his sister. She must have just missed them. 

They hadn’t been rescued yet. In fact, it was somehow even worse now. They weren’t being held hostage by the MLA; they’d run away and were now lose and alone in the MLA’s hideout. 

If someone else found them first… Someone who didn’t care about their safety… Someone like Hotaru…

“Stay here,” she said, absently patting Yuu’s head. “Don’t leave this room. I’ll find them and bring them back.”

He said something in response, but it came out as more of a hoarse grunt. She frowned at him, concerned. His disorientation was due to more than just Rai’s Quirk. She recognized the symptoms of someone who’d been at Yaso’s mercy. 

Standing up, Emi left Yuu behind in the relative safety of the breakroom, trusting that he’d be safe here if and when the Heroes really did arrive. Her niece and nephew, however…

Before she left the room, she stooped down and placed her hand on Yaso’s bony back. 

A brief, powerful electric shock coursed throughout his body, making him spasm violently on the floor. 

There. She only had so much juice stored up in the battery packs she had strapped to her body, but at the very least, that would keep him down for a while. 

Then she kicked him in the face for good measure. She left him there, lying unconscious on the floor, blood pooling out of his broken nose. 

Sick bastard. 

Back in the hallway, she looked around. There was no way of knowing which way the kids had gone, but odds were, they’d escaped out into the main section of the floor and were hiding somewhere among the many shelves and pallets full of garbage that littered the warehouse. With any luck, they were still on the third floor. It shouldn’t be too hard to find them. 

The third floor of the warehouse wasn’t as full as the two floors beneath them, and the fourth floor even less so. Still, if they’d gone up to the fourth floor, they probably would have been caught already. That was where most of their sleeping quarters were. That was also where her father should be. That, or down in the basement. She wasn’t sure. 

But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was finding Aika and Rai, and then getting them and Yuu out of here. 

There weren’t very many MLA members on this floor. Most of them were gathered on the second floor, where her father had instructed them to wait. That was where he’d planned on executing Denki, on full display in front of everyone. But that was too much to think about right now. Her feelings about her brother were too tangled up and confusing. She just needed to focus on what was right in front of her. 

Back in the main section of the warehouse, Emi had to resist the urge to call out Aika and Rai’s names. It wouldn’t do to alert the others that their hostages had escaped. Plus, there was no guarantee they’d respond to her calls. Not after she’d kidnapped them. They probably didn’t ever want to see her again. 

She’d made it about halfway across the massive room when it happened. 

There was a… boom of some kind. Not quite an explosion, but whatever it was, it made the entire floor vibrate beneath her feet, and the shelves around her all clattered together in reverberating unison like an army of metal skeletons. 

Emi stared at the grimy cement floor in surprise. What on earth was that? 

Was it Rai again? Had they actually made it downstairs?

Before she could decide on a course of action, there was a second explosion. Except this one was real, and it was right in front of her. 

The outer wall of the warehouse literally burst open amidst a torrent of smoke and bricks and broken cement. The shelves creaked again, some of them falling over, knocked down by the blast, toppling into one another, crashing down in waves like dominos and sending dust and junk flying through the air. 

Her cry of alarm was lost under the cacophony of falling, unsold merchandise. But as terrifying as this sudden, unexpected explosion was, it wasn’t anything compared to what she saw next. 

There, standing in front of the newly formed hole in the eastern wall, his figure silhouetted through the smoke and sunlight, stood someone she’d only ever seen on television. 

Japan’s current Number Three Hero and son of a previous Number One - Shouto Todoroki. 

The Heroes had arrived. 

Emiko didn't even think about it. She turned and ran. 

Already?! So soon?! Denki had barely been here for an hour! He hadn’t been followed - they’d checked. How had the Heroes known where to find them?

It didn’t matter. She’d known they’d show up eventually, even if it was faster than she’d expected. All that mattered was finding Aika and Rai before someone else in the MLA did. Before they got caught up in all of this fighting. 

She ran away from the fire-and-ice Hero, heading towards the southern staircase, praying that the kids hadn’t hidden themselves amongst the shelves in the other half of the warehouse, most of which had now crashed to the ground in a tangled, disheveled heap. Part of her wanted to curse at the Pro for entering the building so recklessly - but then again, it was her fault the kids were here in the first place, and they had probably counted on them having the kids locked up somewhere safe, not randomly roaming the warehouse…

From the sound of shouts and crashing behind her, it seemed like the MLA members who’d been on this floor had moved to engage Shouto. Good, let them buy her time, even if they didn’t stand a chance against him. 

Try as she might, she couldn't stop the rising hysteria from building within her. What the hell had they been thinking?! Three of the top ten Heroes in Japan worked out of this city, and they also happened to be close, personal friends with Denki. Her father’s plan had been insanity from the get-go! How many times had she told him that?! How many times had she tried to get him to see reason?!

Why had she gone along with it?!

She reached the staircase, taking the steps three at a time, arriving on the second floor and throwing open the doors. 

Chaos reigned. 

This was where most of the MLA members had been stationed, but from what she could see, the only member who was fighting was Takeshi, who had turned himself into his massive stone golem form and was going wild in the center of the room, staggering around drunkenly, knocking over shelves and causing absolute pandemonium. 

Where were the others?! There had been almost twenty people here when she’d come to visit Denki for the last time. They can’t have all been capture already… could they?

That explosion before… could it have been…?

Over the madness, she could hear the sounds of battle echoing out from the floors above and below her. 

The Heroes really had arrived in force. 

They had lost this fight before it had even started. 

This wasn’t a repeat of ten years ago. That had been a war. This? This was barely even a skirmish. 

The kids, she reminded herself. They were here, somewhere. Lost amidst this madness. She needed to-

Takeshi lashed out with a stone arm, smashing through a row of shelves, sending a wall of garbage careening toward her. 

Emiko darted to the side, using up some of her stored electricity to increase her speed, barely making it out of the way before she would have been crushed. 

Coughing violently as a wave of dust assailed her, she ran around the remainder of the row of shelves, past what appeared to be several outdated winter coats and an entire shelf of just backpacks before arriving at an open walkway that she could try to use to cut through to the other side of the room. 

She came up short and literally felt her heart skip a beat. 

There, standing in front of her, having just come out from behind a different row of shelves, was a familiar dark-haired Hero. 

Denki’s voice seemed to echo back into her mind. 

“You had better pray that someone else gets to you before Kyouka does.”

Both women stood still for a moment, completely stunned. 

Then, the other woman smiled.

“Well now,” Earphone Jack said, breathless and covered in dust and yet no less intimidating for it. “Hello, sister-in-law. We finally meet.”

Jirou was shorter than Emi had expected. She’d seen her on TV before, or on posters in music stores, but never in person. Her hair was in disarray, her clothing filthy, and yet… Her eyes were wide and blazing with hate. She didn’t look like a Hero right now. She looked like wrath incarnate. 

All of a sudden, Emi found herself wishing she was back upstairs fighting Todoroki. At least with him, she knew he’d do his best to arrest her without hurting her too badly. 

Truth be told, Emi was fairly confident that, in a straight-up brawl, she could take her sister-in-law. She was bigger, her Quirk could knock her unconscious with a single touch so long as she had the juice, and even ignoring that, she could also use it to enhance her physical strength. She was stronger than the average person. Faster than the average person.

But that was the problem. 

She was faster than a person. Not faster than the speed of sound. 

And Jirou had every one of her speakers pointed directly at her. 

Emi licked her lips and slowly backed away. 

“Hold on,” she said, lifting a beseeching hand as she wracked her brain for some avenue of escape. “You don’t understand. Your kids got out - they’re here, in this mess. I’m trying to help!”

“Thank you for that,” Jirou replied, her tone oddly high and soft, slowly walking forward, matching Emi’s pace. “But I’ll take care of it. I’d rather my children never see you again.”

Emi opened her mouth, trying to find the words but unable to think of anything to say in her defense, to placate the monster who was slowly bearing down on her. 

Finally, she just gave up. 

Throwing as much juice as she could into her legs, she tried to escape. She leaped up, into the air, aiming for the top of one of the shelves, hopeful that she could climb on top of one and escape Jirou that way as she wouldn't be able to outrun sound by racing along any of the straight paths between the shelves around them. 

She underestimated Jirou’s reaction time.

The wall of sound hit her before her feet even left the ground. It was almost like she’d been clubbed over the head. Her vision swam, the world spun, her eardrums burst with a shrill, painful ringing. Worst of all, she still jumped - her body launched into the air, not physically impeded by the powerful attack, and she wound up slamming face-first into the side of the shelf about six feet off the ground. 

She caught on by reflex more than anything, but with everything spinning around so dizzily, she couldn’t quite manage to pull herself up, and a moment later, she fell, crashing heavily back to the floor. 

The wind was knocked out of her lungs. Terrified, disoriented, she sent electricity crackling all up and down her body to keep Jirou at bay, to prevent her from attacking her. It was a pointless endeavor. Electricity would stop her from physically touching her. It didn’t do anything to stop the sound waves. 

The attacks came relentlessly. Brief, powerful explosions of sound, one after another, assailing her, making her skull rattle, the world tremble, her ears bleed. The vertigo was intense, every new attack sending the world spinning ever faster, and she pitched to the side, struggling to get up, to crawl away, to escape, unable to tell up from down. 

Finally, after an eternity, the attacks stopped. 

Emi opened her mouth to cry out, or maybe curse the Hero, or maybe beg her to stop, and instead vomited everywhere. 

Slowly, her vision came back into focus. She couldn’t hear very well, but it seemed like the battle was still going on around them. 

She felt sick, like she’d been stuck on the teacup ride at Tokyo Disney Land for three straight days. She reached out, feeling her shaking fingers close around the edge of the nearest shelf, letting the cold metal ground her, pull her back to reality. 

Jirou was standing over her. Her eyes were cold and murderous. Just like her father's.

She was talking, but Emi couldn’t hear what she was saying. It didn’t matter. Her eyes were saying enough. 

This is what she got. She took away this woman’s children. Brought them into this dangerous situation. Emi had no right to hate Denki for what he’d done, to demand that he pay for it, if she wasn’t willing to pay for what she’d done in turn. It was a circle. 

But it wasn’t over yet… She could still… get away…

A shadow loomed overhead. Jirou looked up, eyes growing wide and fearful. 

It was Takeshi, still in his powerful stone golem body. He wasn’t facing them, didn’t see them there, as he slowly backed away in their direction, away from whatever it was he was facing. 

His rock arm hit another shelf, sending it toppling over into another, and into another. Directly towards them.

They were going to be crushed. 

And she was too dizzy to move. 

Jirou ran forward, out of the way of the falling row of shelves. At first, Emi thought she’d left her behind to die. Then, to her complete surprise, she felt something wrap around her wrist, jerking her backward. 

The shelf came crashing down right where she’d been laying. It would have crushed her legs if she hadn’t pulled them up in time.

She came to a stop beside Jirou’s feet, and her sister-in-law quickly unwound her earphone jack. 

Emi gaped up at her, confused and still disoriented. 

“Y-you… saved me…?”

Jirou looked down at her and frowned. 

“I’m a Hero, not a murderer,” she muttered, just barely loud enough for Emi to hear over the still-deafening ringing in her ears. “And you are going to jail with that bastard you call a father.”

Her father…

Jirou was close now. If she was quick, she could reach up and shock her. Knock her out. This was her chance. 

Another explosion rocked the building, only this time, the ceiling above them suddenly caved in. 

Chunks of brick and cement rained down on them, along with entire shelves and pallets full of merchandise. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see what caused the ceiling to give out, but it didn’t matter. She seized her opportunity.

She didn’t shock Jirou, however. Instead, she sent the electricity down to her legs. Still lying on her back, she placed her foot on the fallen shelf that had nearly crushed her and kicked with all of her might. 

She slid backward down the aisle like a bobsled, propelled by the force of her kick and aided by the years of accumulated dust on the floor. Jirou let out a shout, rising to her feet to follow, but Emi was moving too fast, and with debris falling from the ceiling, it was too dangerous. She came to a stop when she crashed into a pile of boxes that had fallen off of a nearby pallet, but it was good enough. 

Pushing herself upward, Emi fought her way past her lingering dizziness and vanished into the chaos of the fight, letting endless rows of shelves and pallets and the chaos of battle separate herself from her sister-in-law. 

That had been too close. She had thought for sure she was going to die. But now… Now, she wasn’t the only one who knew the kids were out here. And since it seemed like the Pros were more likely to find them than she was… Maybe it was time she got out of here herself. 

Her father’s plan had completely collapsed anyway, and if she were being honest with herself, she was finding it hard to be too upset that Denki was more than likely going to escape. Killing him hadn't been what she'd wanted from this anyway. 

All she’d wanted was to set her father free and live a quiet life with him and Yuu, her new family. 

And maybe… Maybe, now that everything had fallen apart, now that he could see that it was futile… Maybe she could finally convince her dad to leave with her. 

She’d leave her niece and nephew to their mother like she wanted. Instead, Emi would find her father and Yuu and get them out of here. Let Denki live out the rest of his life with his family, living with what he’d done… And Emi would live out her life with her family. And she’d have to live with what she’d done as well. 

With that somber thought to sustain her, Emi pushed forward, holding to a shelf to support her as she made her way towards the staircase that led back up to the third floor. 

Chapter Text

After escaping from Yaso and the cage, Aika had been led by the hand, stumbling and disoriented, by her brother Rai on a mad dash out of the prison cell and into the villain’s hideout proper. They didn’t really have a plan outside of ‘get as far away from Yaso as they possibly could’. Only, it had turned out that the building they were in was really big, really dark, and they had no idea where the exit was. 

They’d run around for a few minutes, lost amidst a labyrinth of tall shelves full of dust-covered junk ranging from utility belts to specialized shoes to what looked like grappling hooks until the sound of voices up ahead had them stopping, terrified of being caught again. 

More bad guys, just like the ones who'd stuffed them in the car. It didn’t sound like they were looking for them. Whoever they were, the villains were just standing around talking, but the fear of being captured again, of being trapped in another cage or tortured, had left both kids literally shaking. They’d gotten so turned-around amidst the tall, dusty shelves that they didn’t even know which way they’d come from anymore.

That was when Aika had noticed that one of the big cardboard boxes in front of her on the shelf had been ripped open and was full of old sweaters, and she had an idea. Which is how she and Rai ended up buried within a box of old clothes.

Aika shuffled around anxiously, trying not to make too much noise. Her position at the moment was awkward and uncomfortable, and her leg was starting to fall asleep. That would be really bad if they needed to abandon their hiding spot and run. Thankfully, her ears were slowly starting to work again, and she felt like her dizziness was finally dying down. Maybe having a chance to rest was helping more than she thought.

The sweaters themselves were pleasantly soft, even if they smelled kind of weird. They were also really big and had six sleeves. What was all this weird stuff doing in this building and who was it for? Maybe Uncle Shouji had a sweater like this? 

What mattered wasn’t the smell, though, or who wore these kinds of clothes. What mattered was that, as long as they were quiet, no one would find them here. They couldn’t wait there forever, but mom would be coming to get them eventually. She had to. She was a Hero, and she was their mom. And as long as they were patient, as long as she could keep her little brother safe… everything would be ok. 

Thoughts of her family, however, inevitably led to thoughts of her dad. That bad man, Yaso… he had said that Dad used to be a villain. She didn’t believe him, of course. He was a bad guy, a kidnapper, and a villain. Everyone knew that bad guys were liars. 

But then… Why hadn’t dad ever told her about his family? How did dad go to the same Hero high school as mom and his other friends, but only he wasn’t a Hero? And why would their dad’s cousin… or their aunt, maybe? Why did she kidnap them? 

None of it made any sense. She wanted to find her dad and ask him about it. Or, more accurately, she wanted to find her dad because if she did that would mean they were safe again and everything would be ok.

Without warning, the ground began to shake. She didn’t notice at first, wrapped up in her cocoon of sweaters, but the shaking caused all of the tall shelves around them to tremble and groan, like a forest of haunted trees. 

Rai reached out and grasped her hand instinctively. She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but she was sure he was terrified. 

“What was that?” he whispered. 

In her heart, she wanted to say, ‘It’s the Heroes!’, but honestly, she didn’t know. Before she could poke her head up out of the box to take a look, however, the sound of an explosion rent the air, and both Aika and Rai screamed reflexively. 

A crashing noise sounded out in the distance, loud and metallic. It repeated, again and again, steadily getting closer and closer. Before she could figure out what it was, something struck the shelf they were on, rattling them within their box. The world began to tilt, everything shifting forward, until, with another crash, the shelf they were on slammed forward onto the next one, and everything came crashing to the ground. 

For a moment, the two kids remained still in their cardboard prison, groaning and struggling to reorient themselves. After a few uncomfortable moments of awkward struggle within the sea of sweaters, Aika managed to find the open top of the box and poke her head out to take a look. 

All of the shelves around them had fallen over. It was hard to see with all of the junk that had fallen on top of them, but they were essentially buried alive under a mountain of garbage. The only reason they hadn’t been crushed was because of the shelves’ thick metal frame. Even so, there was so much garbage on top of them, she didn’t see how they were ever going to get out. 

“Aika,” Rai whined from inside the box, “I’m stuck! I can’t… breathe…!”

“Shh!” she hissed, giving him a panicked kick that was mostly cushioned by old sweaters. “Someone’s gonna hear you! And you can so breathe! If you couldn’t, you wouldn’t be talking!”

He whined again, wriggling his way to the top of the box so he could poke his head out beside hers. Together they examined their surroundings. 

It was pointless. They could try crawling their way out, but some of the junk on the shelves had broken and looked dangerous. Broken glass, lots of sharp edges... Plus, they probably attracted a lot of attention. The bad guys were going to come running to see what had happened, and then they'd be caught...

"What's that noise?" Rai asked, giving her shoulder a shake. 

"What noise?" she asked, impatient. Her ears were still ringing from Rai's Quirk. 

"I dunno. It sounds like... It sounds like fighting."

"Maybe it the Heroes?" she said, feeling suddenly hopeful. 

"Maybe it's mom!" Rai exclaimed loudly, prompting Aika to slap her hand over his mouth. 

"Shh! What if someone hears us?!"

"Don't we want the Heroes to hear us?"

"Yeah, but we don't know if it's them yet. Let's keep quiet until we know for sure."

It was the best plan she could come up with. If they were wrong, they'd give their location away to the bad guys. That being said, trapped under the mountain of shelves, she had no idea how they were going to find out if the noise Rai was hearing was the Heroes or not. They couldn't see anything. 

Worrying about it now wasn't going to help. She just needed to stick it out and keep Rai quiet. Mom would be able to hear them once she got there. Everything was going to be ok.

Then the ground beneath them shuddered and everything started to fall. 

It was gradual, at first. There was a roar of breaking stone followed by a distant crash. The shelf they were trapped in began slowly tilting downward. Another crash followed, then another, and then the shelf that had been underneath them suddenly tore itself free as the ground opened up, plummeting down to the story below, smashing against the floor in a heap of twisted, rusty metal, spewing out shrapnel and sending the merchandise that had been resting on it flying in every direction. 

Without the support beneath them, their shelf began to fall as well, but was miraculously halted halfway by the weight of the shelves pressing down on top of it. That didn’t stop gravity from pulling all of the loose merchandise that had been knocked free from tumbling through the open air and smashing on top of the broken shelves down below, the boxes bursting open like rotted melons, strewing their contents everywhere. 

The box of sweaters Aika and Rai had taken refuge in was one of said pieces of loose merchandise, but Aika had managed to wrap an arm around one of the vertical bars of the shelf just in time, and, as the box fell away, sweaters flipping through the air like streamers, she was left hanging, one hand on the shelf, the other desperately trying to hold on to her brother. 

For a moment, dangling into the open air over the chaos of a battle down below, both kids could do nothing more than scream.

Even for an eight-year-old, Aika wasn’t very strong. Fear and their cocoon of sweaters had left both kids a little sweaty, and not only was Rai slowly slipping through her fingers, but so was the shelf she was trying to keep a hold on. To make matters worse, the shelf itself was still trembling, still threatening to give in to the pull of gravity and take the dive down to the floor below. If it did, it would crash right on top of them, and they would both surely die. 

Over the sound of her frantic screaming, she noticed a sudden chill gust of air. Then, like a miracle, she noticed ice beginning to accumulate around the edge of the hole, enveloping the shelf, cementing it in place to prevent it from falling. At the same time, a familiar figure slid down from the floor above, creating a pathway of ice along the edge of the shelf, quickly making his way down to them. 

It was Uncle Todoroki. 

He managed to suspend his ice bridge over the gap, angling down below the shelf, till it extended to just underneath them. She waited until he arrived, her fingers aching from both the cold and their combined weight, and had grabbed ahold of Rai before she let go of her brother’s hand. One arm around her brother, holding him to his chest, he reached out with his other hand and wrapped it around Aika, pulling her free of the shelf. 

“You two ok?” he asked, sounding calm and professional and not at all like they had both nearly just died. 

For the first time in her life, Aika understood why so many of her friends thought that Rei’s dad was attractive. 

Before either sibling could respond, something roared nearby. 

There, smashing its way through the pile of broken shelves, stomping furiously towards them, was a massive stone golem. Just like you’d see in a video game. 

Rai screamed again, Aika squeezing Todoroki as tightly as she could. Todoroki was one of the best Heroes around, but… could he fight a big scary monster like that while protecting both of them? While they hung in the open air on a tiny pathway made of ice?

From the look on Todoroki’s face, he was certainly willing to try. But it became a moot question when, a split second later, with a staccato of explosions, a familiar figure flew past them at high speed. 

She only had time to hear him begin to yell “Howitzer-!” before Uncle Bakugou’s open palm collided with the stone golem’s face and an enormous explosion filled the room, searing her cheeks with a wave of heat. 

The golem was blasted backward, his face fractured, legs stumbling over the twisted metal wreckage below him, and he fell to the ground with an almighty crash, rocky carapace cracking open like an egg, revealing a man buried inside. 

Before Aika or Rai could do much more than gape in shock, Todoroki had already extended his ice bridge to the nearest still-standing set of shelves on the floor below them, and, angling down at a gentle slope, the three slid safely away from the center of the battle and the hole in the ceiling and back towards a relatively quieter section of the warehouse. 

From atop the shelf, he made yet another slide, and a moment later, the three were safely back on the ground. 

“Are either of you hurt?” her best friend’s dad asked, crouching down to look at them both in the eye. His familiar monotone was almost as comforting as his presence in how normal it was. 

“No,” Aika answered, and Rai reached out to take her hand again, shaking his head in response when Todoroki glanced his way, apparently still too scared to speak. 

“Good,” he replied, standing up straight again. “I’m going to guide you both to the ground floor where I’ll leave you with the police. Your mother is-”

“Todoroki!”

Rounding the corner at the end of the aisle of still-standing shelving came Aunt Mina as well as Gizmo, the former of which fell to her knees just before reaching them so she could scoop both kids into a tight hug. 

“Oh!” she squealed, squeezing them both so tightly Aika thought her head was going to pop off. “You’re both ok! I’m so relieved!”

“Where are Jirou and Kaminari?” Todoroki asked.

“We got separated in the commotion,” Gizmo explained, since Mina was clearly too busy fussing over her and Rai. “We knocked out most of the PLF members, but one of them turned into a big stone monster and went wild-”

“Dad is here?” Aika cut in once Mina let her go and she could breathe freely again. 

“Well yeah, we came to save him, too!”

Before she could ask Mina what she was talking about, two figures rounded the corner at the end of the aisle, rushing straight towards them. One of them had an enormous blond pompadour that hung forward comically over the front of his head; the other was a skinny dark-haired woman with sunken eyes. 

Todoroki immediately threw up a wall of ice. 

“No time to chat,” he reprimanded, turning and leading the way down the aisle. “We need to get to the staircase, now!”

As they raced along, Gizmo carrying Rai, Aika struggling to keep up on her shorter legs, the sound of the battle around them raged on. With all of the shelves around them, however, it was difficult to say where it was coming from. There were still echoes from the upper floor, and what sounded like maybe some fighting on the ground floor too, but Aika had a feeling the maze of shelves wasn’t helping anybody. Though Todoroki seemed to know where he was going, more or less, so many shelves and pallets had been knocked around in the fighting that the place had become a maze in truth. It was enough to make anybody dizzy. 

As they rounded another corner, forced to diverge paths once again due to the way forward being blocked by an avalanche of old skirts and what looked like specialty thermoses, they found their path barred by a sinister-looking middle-aged woman with red hair done up in a tight bun and a fox-like face. 

Todoroki acted instinctively, releasing a wall of flame to drive the woman back, only the weirdest thing happened. 

The flames rippled and undulated in the air for a moment, before suddenly twisting around, coiling like a snake until they came to a rest behind the fox-faced woman, glowing behind her shoulders like a red-hot wreath. 

She smiled, the act not at all pleasant. 

“My thanks for the support, Hero.”

She lifted her hand and the flames struck, lashing out like a whip straight towards Gizmo and Rai. 

Todoroki’s ice wall barely made it in time, but it exploded in a blast of water and steam from the force of the flames now under the villain’s control. 

“Take the kids and run!” Todoroki shouted, freezing the ground beneath him, creating spears of ice that lanced upwards toward the woman only for them to be instantly destroyed by her serpentine flames, which seemed to only be growing larger and stronger as the seconds ticked by. 

Mina seized Aika by the hand and jerked her backward, and together, the two along with Gizmo and Rai raced away, taking another path around the piles of broken merchandise, searching for a new path to the impossibly-distant staircase. 

The comfort that had come from having her parents’ friends there to save them was swiftly beginning to disappear, leaving behind it that same raw terror that had been accompanying her for the last couple of hours. 

As they rounded the debris, heading once more towards the far wall and the hope of freedom, the villains from earlier with the weird hair and the sunken eyes finally caught up with them. 

The woman jerked her arm forward in an upward motion like she was throwing a baseball underhanded, and a glob of black gunk spewed towards them. 

Mina managed to throw up an acid veil, catching and dissolving the liquid before it reached them, though it temporarily obscured her vision as it diluted throughout the shield like ink in a bowl of water. 

The one with the pompadour, which Aika could now see was composed completely of thin yellow needles, lowered his head and fired off a burst of spikes from his hair. Mina managed to catch these in her veil as well, but though most of them dissolved harmlessly, a few managed to stay whole long enough to pierce the veil, stabbing into her arms and thighs. 

“Giz, I’ve got this,” Mina muttered poisonously, taking a moment to size her opponents up as she yanked the needles out of her skin. “Get the kids to the stairs.”

“But-!” the sidekick tried to argue, but another salvo of needles shut him up. 

“I can’t beat them and protect you!” she shouted angrily over her shoulder. “Take them and get out of here!”

With a frustrated groan, Giz caught Aika by the hand and began towing her once more backward in the direction of that ever-distant wall. 

Aika ran to keep up, but couldn’t help from glancing back over her shoulder to watch Mina fight, concerned for her aunt as well as the fact that their number of protectors seemed to be dropping. 

She watched as Mina caught another blast of ink on an acid shield, then ducked under the needles and, skating on the acid she shot from her shoes, managed to close the distance between her and the attacker and caught him with an uppercut so hard that he was literally lifted off of his feet. The woman with the sunken eyes tried to get her from behind, only for Uncle Sero of all people to come swinging down from the rafters and catch her in a double-booted kick. 

A moment later, they were rounding another corner, and her parents’ friends were out of sight. 

“H-how much farther?” Aika asked, gasping for breath. This warehouse was so big it was stupid. 

“We’re almost there,” Gizmo replied, trying to smile reassuringly, only to let out a shout of alarm as a figure burst out of one of the boxes on a pallet and tackled Aika to the floor. 

She hit the concrete with a gasp, feeling pain radiate throughout her body as her skull bounced off of the floor. Someone was on top of her, heavy and kind of slimy. When she opened her eyes, she was terrified and disgusted to find that it was a man with the head and skin of an earthworm. The only human things about him, other than his humanoid body shape, were his eyes, his mouth, and the fact that he had hair - although it was bright green. 

“Sorry,” he said, arms pinning hers to the ground beneath them. “I don’t like messing with kids, but at this point, you might be my only ticket outta here-”

Something thick and heavy collided with his head, knocking him off of her with a pained grunt. 

“Ha!” a voice crowed triumphantly. “Didn’t miss ya that time, did I?”

Aika slowly pushed herself upwards, disoriented, to find a woman she didn’t know rushing towards her. She had short dark hair that she had colorful feathers sticking out of, red and white face paint, brown shorts and a leather vest, and a bunch of small axes strapped to her waist and back. 

“Hey there!” the woman greeted with entirely too much enthusiasm considering the situation Aika had been through. “Remember me? I’m Tomahawk! We met in an elevator once?”

The honest answer was ‘No, I have no idea who you are’, but that seemed like a rude thing to say to the woman who had just saved her, so instead Aika just nodded. 

“Geez, Tetsuo,” the woman continued, casting Gizmo an exasperated look as she helped Aika back to her feet. “Try to pay a bit more attention to your surroundings, yeah?”

Gizmo rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up, Hayase. Help me get these kids out of here.”

There was a certain familiarity in his tone that suggested he not only knew this overly-loud Hero, but that he knew her pretty well, which helped alleviate some of Aika’s unease being around a stranger. 

“Should I tie him up?” Tomahawk asked before they headed off again, nodding down towards the human earthworm. 

“We don’t really have time,” Giz replied, already heading off with Rai still in his arms. “Besides, he’d probably just slip out. He’s the same guy that escaped from Red Riot the other week.”

“I know who he is,” she muttered sullenly, taking Aika’s hand and hurrying along behind Gizmo. “He’s the jerk who got away during that convenience store attack-”

“Oh, the one where you attacked Kaminari by mistake?”

Not following the conversation at all but perking up at the sound of her father’s name, Aika glanced up at Tomahawk and was surprised to find the older woman’s face was completely red. 

“S-shut up!” she spluttered, indignant, not sounding like a Pro at all. “Don’t say that in front of his kids!”

This lady was weird, Aika decided. She wished Mina or Todoroki would come back. Or her mom, wherever she was. 

Finally, after a bit more running and thankfully no more interruptions, they made it to the exit. 

The battle behind them seemed to be dying down, but it was still a relief to get away. The stairwell was dark and creepy, but thankfully empty. It seemed like most of the villains were either currently fighting a Hero or were already taken down. With any luck, they’d be able to get out of here without any more interruptions. 

The ground floor was as dark and grimy as the second and third floors had been, but the commotion seemed to be contained here. Whatever fighting had been happening was already over, and though some of the shelves had been destroyed, and though the ceiling was cracked and damaged, it was mostly quiet now. 

“Mina burned a hole into the outer wall, not far away,” Gizmo explained as the four took a left and began running along the perimeter of the warehouse. “It’s in a bathroom. We’ll be able to get out there.”

Freedom. It was so close! They’d done it! The Heroes had come to save them after all and Rai was safe and everything was ok!

She didn’t see the man stepping out from behind the row of boxes until it was too late. 

His hand closed around Tomahawk’s shoulder, catching her. Aika, who had kept running, felt her hand tug out of the Pro's. Before she could do more than turn her head in surprise, a sharp electric zap sounded out. 

Tomahawk's body fell to the floor, unconscious, as the man stepped over her body, staring down at Aika with cold, manic eyes. 

Whoever he was, he was tall and thin and frightening. He was older, with long white hair that ran past his shoulders, though his facial hair was close-cut and neatly trimmed, accentuating a strong jawline. He was wearing an overly-large dark coat, left open at the front, under which Aika could see multiple bundles strapped to his torso almost like body armor. 

It was his eyes that held her attention the most, however. They were a bright, electric blue, and though they gazed down at her dispassionately, there was something about them that seemed to glow with a hint of madness. 

“Hayase?” Gizmo called out, and it was only then that Aika realized he hadn’t noticed Tomahawk go down. He’d kept running, and was now several paces away from her. 

“Hello, little one,” the man said, in a voice that was deceptively soft and gentle. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

And then he grabbed her. 

After the stereo, after his and his wife’s once-in-a-lifetime team attack, after taking down a majority of the PLF in one fell swoop, Denki had expected things to get a little crazy. 

He hadn’t expected literally everything to devolve into absolute chaos. 

The problem was, one of the PLF members who’d been in the group they’d attacked wound up being that same guy with the Quirk that turned him into a large rock golem. He’d somehow managed to avoid being completely incapacitated by the explosion of sound, turning himself into his large monstrous form almost as soon as the attack had started. The problem was, he’d clearly been robbed of his equilibrium by the attack, so instead of charging at like he'd probably wanted to, he had instead stumbled around drunkenly, smashing things, knocking over shelves, and causing absolute mayhem. 

It was due to the aforementioned mayhem that Denki suddenly found himself alone. A falling pile of crates had wound up separating him from his wife, Mina, and Gizmo. Now, alone on the floor, he was desperately trying to make his way to the staircase, remembering that Kyouka had said she thought she’d heard their kids’ heartbeats upstairs. 

Getting to the stairs alive was proving to be a bit of a problem, however. 

An explosion shook the building, what had to have been the twentieth he’d felt so far. He had no idea what had caused it; defective merchandise, a thug recklessly using his Quirk, Bakugou being... Bakugou. Overhead, the ceiling caved in, heralded by a cascade of falling shelves that rained down on the central part of the warehouse, drowning all other noise out in a cacophony of shrieking metal and smashed merchandise. 

Denki didn’t have time to pay attention to that now, however. The golem was right in front of him, blocking most of his vision, and though he hadn’t seemed to have noticed Denki, he kept getting in his way, usually by accident, constantly blocking his path. 

Luckily for him, just as Denki was beginning to lose his patience, Bakugou, the king of losing patience, rocketed up from out of nowhere and took the golem down with a singular, powerful explosion. 

Unluckily for him, the golem came crashing down almost right on top of him. 

He had to throw himself sideways, literally, landing heavily on his side and scratching up his arm pretty bad on the dirty cement floor, to prevent being squashed by the titanic rock. 

Bits of stone fragments peppered Denki’s body, most of them too small to hurt, and once the dust had settled and he’d gotten back to his feet, he could see that Bakugou had managed to blast through the thick stone body, revealing an unconscious middle-aged man lying amidst the debris. 

Bakugou was standing over him, looking smug. At least, until he caught sight of Denki. 

“Uh, hey…" Denki began, forcing a smile, only to blanch when Bakugou began stomping towards him. 

“This fucking bastard…”

Denki began rapidly backing up, suddenly more terrified of Bakugou than he was of the PLF members who had originally locked him up. 

“W-whoa, ok, hold on,” he tried, scrambling for something to say in his defense, only to feel his back press up against a shelf. Nowhere left to run. “Let’s talk this out!”

But Bakugou came to a halt a few steps away, glowering. 

“I’m going to kick your ass once we get out of here,” he growled, his voice thick with promised retribution. “For being an idiot, and for disobeying your orders. But for now, civilians take priority. Get out of here and let me clean this up.”

“W-wait-!” Denki tried to say, but Bakugou cut him off. 

“If you’re looking for your brats, I just saw them with Icy-Hot. They’re probably heading to the south exit.”

With a quick thanks, both for the information and for not killing him, Denki took off across the warehouse at a dead run. It was still dangerous, even with the rock guy down for the count, but if Todoroki had his kids, then things were going to be fine. He just needed to catch up to them as fast as he could. 

He spotted glimpses of his friends as he crossed the room. Momo was busy rounding up and confining all of the PLF members he and Kyouka had knocked out earlier, though it looked like more than one needed medical attention, probably because of the idiot who'd turned himself into a giant rock. Kirishima emerged from the other side of the room, leading another gaggle of restrained would-be villains. It seemed their impromptu surprise attack had worked out after all. The battle was drawing to a close already, at least on this half of the building. The other half, the part in the direction he was running, still showed signs of an ongoing conflict. 

It was the spout of flame he saw extending over the wall of shelves to his left that had him changing course at top-speed. Flames almost certainly meant Todoroki, and if he was letting them out, that meant trouble. His kids could be in danger. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find them, even amidst the ruined warehouse. The flames were sort of hard to miss, especially in a building as dark as this one. 

Todoroki wasn't alone, but he also wasn't with his kids. Denki noticed that almost immediately. 

However, that concern took a momentary backseat the second he recognized the person Todoroki was facing. 

It was that fox-faced woman from the alleyway. The one who manipulated fire. 

The one who had burned his in-laws’ house down and had nearly killed his son. 

“You know, you’re not as skilled with your flames as I thought you’d be,” the arsonist tittered smugly. “Considering who your father was, I would have thought you’d have more talent.”

“You knew my father?” Todoroki asked, voice deadpan, though Denki knew him well enough to recognize the note of surprise and curiosity. 

“Oh, no, not personally. But I did admire his talents. We were… of the same mind, you could say. He and I can do things with a flame that you couldn’t even imagine.”

Something about the way she said that, the smugness, her punchable face… it set Denki’s blood boiling. If ‘burning down houses with children inside’ is what she meant by that, then Todoroki was better off, as far as he was concerned. 

That being said, his kids were somewhere in this chaos and he needed to talk to Todoroki to figure out where. She was just getting in his way. 

Denki stepped out from behind the shelf, not bothering to hide. The woman had her back to him and thus didn’t see him, but Todoroki did, and in his surprise, he neglected to respond to the woman’s inane statement. 

It didn’t matter. She opened her mouth to goad him again, but by that point, Denki had already reached her. 

This was the point where real Heroes, like All Might, would bust out their cool one-liners. But Denki wasn’t a Hero, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood. 

Instead, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and let his Quirk surge. 

Her muscles locked up, her whole body spasming, before she fell to the ground in an unintelligible lump, her flames winking out harmlessly. 

Damn, he hoped that had burned her. 

He met Todoroki’s surprised gaze and winced. Oh, right… He wasn’t supposed to use his Quirk like that. He didn’t have a license. 

“Uh… Sorry, I just-”

“It’s fine,” Todoroki said, relaxing. “I’ll look the other way. If you’re looking for your kids, they’re safe. Mina and Jirou’s sidekick took them to the exit. They should be outside by now. You should join them.”

“Perfect,” Denki said, letting his relief show on his face. “Thanks, Todoroki. Uh, would you mind telling Kyouka? I don’t have a headset, and I have no idea where she is.”

He nodded wordlessly, dismissing Denki without a second thought as he turned his attention to the downed villain, and Denki rushed off in the direction he was pretty sure the stairs were located. 

He was honestly surprised at how well everything had gone. Too well, if he were being honest. An hour ago, he had been prepared to die in the hopes that his kids would be spared. Instead, his friends had come to his rescue yet again. For all the terrible things he’d done in his life, he definitely didn’t deserve to have friends as amazing as they were. Or a wife and incredible as Kyouka. 

That being said, he did have an uncomfortable conversation to have with Kyouka when this was all over… He had no idea how he was ever going to gain her trust back, not after what had happened, but he could focus on that later. His kids came first. Then Kyouka. Then, if he survived that… well, Bakugou was apparently going to kill him. He deserved that, he supposed. One step at a time. The end of this eternal night was finally in sight. 

He managed to work his way to the end of the warehouse within a couple of minutes with only a handful of detours around piles of discarded merchandise or broken shelving units. The stairwell was dark and cool, perfect considering how sweaty he was after all this running around. 

He hit the bottom step and sprang toward the door, throwing it open, only realizing afterward that there had been PLF members down here too and announcing his presence like that may have been a terrible idea. 

Almost immediately, his eyes landed on the group of people standing just a little way to his left between the outer wall and yet another shelf, and he came to an abrupt halt as he recognized the tall man in the center. 

It was strange to consider that this was only his second time seeing the man, when it had felt like his entire life over the past few weeks had revolved around him. To be honest, from the moment Kyouka had come for him, all throughout this mad search for his kids... he'd actually forgotten all about him. He certainly hadn't expected to run into him here, at the finish line, just when everything was going so well. 

“Dad…” he breathed, not willing to believe his eyes. 

“Hello again, Denki,” his father replied, turning his wide blue gaze on his son, and Denki felt his stomach drop out.

He had Aika in his arms. Her back was pressed against his chest, one arm wrapped around her torso, pinning her in place, the other hand secured around her mouth, his fingers digging into her cheeks. She squeaked in pain, struggling fitfully, unable to speak as frantic, fearful tears spilled down her cheeks and over Renjirou’s fingers. 

Denki could see the battery packs under his coat. 

One zap is all it would take. Less than a second. He could pour all of the electricity he had into Aika’s tiny body faster than Denki could do more than shout.

He was at a loss. 

If he tried to charge his dad physically, he’d kill her. He couldn’t let out an Indiscriminate Shock with his Quirk because not only would Renjirou just absorb it, but it would hurt Aika. The only other people around were Tomahawk, who was down, presumably unconscious, and Gizmo, who was a couple meters away on Renjirou's other side, holding Rai. But unless Giz had some secret tool in his belt that could knock Renjirou out faster than it took for him to electrocute Aika, he wasn’t going to be of much help here. 

Denki had only one option. 

Stall. 

Stall until an actual Hero could show up to save his little girl. 

“Dad,” he said again, struggling to keep his voice level. “Please… Don’t do this.”

A slow smile wormed its way onto Renjirou’s face. 

“Why?” he asked, voice soft and composed. 

Denki swallowed, desperately struggling to find some way to reason with the man. All at once, he was back on top of the dam, staring down his mother. That madness in his eyes… 

He’d wondered on more than one occasion, since the night Kyouka had come home and told him his father had broken out of prison, what a confrontation with his father would be like. Would it be violent? Would they scream at one another, level accusations, lay their grief bare?

It was only now that Denki realized that there would never truly be a confrontation with his father. The man he used to know was dead. He’d died the day that Denki had killed his mother. This… This person, this ghost in front of him, kept alive only through the sheer force of his own hate, was not Denki’s father. 

“She’s just a little kid,” he tried, taking a small step forward. “She… She has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, Denki…” his father replied, slowly shaking his head. “You don’t seem to understand. This isn’t about her. This is about you.”

“I know,” he said quickly, raising a hand to his chest in supplication. “And… And I’m right here. Just… let her go, and you can take me instead. Just like you wanted.”

“What I wanted…” he mused, his wide, unblinking eyes fixated firmly on Denki as though the entire world revolved around only the two of them. “I doubt you could ever fully comprehend what it is I want, Denki.”

Though the sounds of battle still continued on overhead, the floor around them seemed to be quiet. Where was everyone?! There had been PLF members stationed down here, too! Had they all been captured, the Pros having moved on to other parts of the building?! Was there really no one around who could help?!

“For the past ten years, I have dreamed of this moment,” Renjirou continued, apparently unconcerned about the possibility of reinforcements. “I considered so many possibilities. Did you know I considered taking one of your children away, just like how the Pros took you away, filling your head with nonsense… They would come back to you, and betray you, just like how you did to us so many years ago…”

“Bullshit,” Denki spat, desperate to buy more time. “This isn’t about me betraying the PLF. This is about us. About… About mom.”

The light in his eyes… His gaze looked so much like hers it was scary. He hadn’t been able to get through to her that night on the dam. What on earth made him think he was going to be able to get through to his father now?

“I learned a great deal from Emiko, you know,” his father said, abruptly changing the topic. “She told me all about your kids, about their Quirks, their temperaments… They seem to love you a great deal. It’s truly a blessing to have children who love and respect you. But I wonder… Would they still love you if they knew the truth? Could they still look you in the eyes if they knew what you were?”

He shook his head, eager to change the topic. 

“Dad-”

“Say it, Denki.”

“I-”

“Admit what you did to her!”

He hesitated, licking his lips, uncertain how to proceed. His father, the lunatic, held his daughter’s life in his hands… If he didn’t go along with him, he might just snap and kill her. But this… This was the last place he wanted Aika to learn the truth. 

Still. He couldn’t risk her life, not when his father was clearly out of his mind. 

“I…” He had to stop to swallow, to work up the nerve. He struggled to keep his eyes fixated on his father’s. 

“I killed mom.”

Denki couldn’t keep his eyes from darting back down to Aika. She was still terrified, still sobbing… But her eyes had grown wide, the hysterical fear now tinged with disbelief and horror. He should have told her. He should have told her months ago. 

He’d been so worried that she’d learn the truth from someone else, how awful his inevitable confession would be… He’d never paused to consider how much worse it could get. 

The door to the stairwell behind him burst open, and out came Kyouka. 

“Denki-!” she started, only to come to a stop a few paces behind him as her eyes took in the scene before her. 

He wanted to curse. She’d clearly been in a rush, desperate to finally get to her kids who she’d been, likely by Todoroki, told were already outside. She hadn’t used her ears to sense for trouble before exiting the stairwell. She must have thought the ground floor was cleared already. 

Kyouka’s earphone jacks jerked instinctively down towards the speakers on her wrists, but Renjirou jerked Aika’s head around threateningly. 

“Keep your ears up,” he spat. “Up, where I can see them. Do it, now.”

Kyouka did as she was told, slowly stepping up beside her husband. The look on her face was pure murder. 

“It’s nice to finally meet my daughter-in-law,” his father continued with a fake smile.

“Let her go, you sick bastard.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Renjirou replied, taking a small step away from them. “Not yet, at least. I still haven’t done what I came here to do.”

“You had me already!” Denki cried out, exasperated. “You don’t need them! Let them go and you can have me!”

“But you still don’t understand, do you, Denki?” his father explained, his entire face lighting up with his manic, deranged smile. “I don’t just want to kill you for what you did. I want you to suffer in the same way that you made me suffer. I want to take away the things you love. Your wife, your son, your daughter… I want to watch as you lose them all at the hands of someone you once called family. Only then will I kill you. Because only then will you have paid the price for what you did to us.”

Kyouka stepped forward, desperation thick on her voice as she said, “Take me, then! You lost your wife - if you take me, that makes you even! Aika has nothing to do with this!”

But the madness in Renjirou’s eyes had confirmed even before the conversation had started that there was no negotiating with him. Losing Sora had broken him. He had filled the hole in his heart with his hatred for Denki and his drive for revenge. His obsession with that goal had driven him to this, just like his mother’s obsession with the MLA had eventually led her to that moment on the dam. 

And it was only now, Denki was realizing, that his own obsessions had led him here, too. He’d been so blinded by his desire to pretend to be the Hero he’d always wanted to be that, when he was offered the chance to play the part of bait, he took it without a second thought. His desire to make up for his past mistakes and somehow win Emiko back had led him to risk his children’s lives by taking them out on the street when it was dangerous and trusting her when he knew he shouldn’t have. 

Madness had damned his mother and his father… and it would seem it had damned him just as surely. His selfishness and self-interest would cost him everything. 

He wasn’t a Hero. He never had been, not really. He could see that now. 

But a Hero was what he needed, desperately. 

Someone, anyone. Please. Most of his friends were here, in the building. One of them had to notice. Momo, Mina, Sero, Kirishima - anyone! He knew he shouldn’t be asking them to clean up his messes, not anymore, not after they’d already forgiven so much… But Aika was going to die. Somebody needed to save her. 

As though in answer to his prayer, two more people suddenly emerged from the stairwell behind them, and for a moment, he felt his heart begin to inflate with hope. 

And then his eyes landed on Emiko, and he felt all of that hope die. 

She wasn’t alone. There was someone else, a teenage boy with messy dark hair. Denki ignored him though. His eyes were locked on Emiko’s, who was taking in the scene in front of her with a mixture of alarm and dread. 

“Emiko!” Renjirou shouted, suddenly elated. “Finally, our family reunion is complete! Come to me, my dear! Our long-awaited moment has finally arrived!”

But Emi hesitated, her eyes bouncing around from Denki to Kyouka to Giz and Rai and Tomahawk down on the ground before finally settling on Aika. 

Slowly, she stepped forward until she’d passed Denki and Kyouka, joining her father’s side. 

“Dad,” she said softly, “what… What are you doing?”

“I am achieving our long-held desire,” he replied, satisfaction dripping from his every word. 

But Emi shook her head slowly as though she didn’t understand him. 

“You…? Look around you. We lost. It’s over. The other Heroes will be here any second now. I... Listen, I got Yuu! There's still time if we hurry! We need to get out of here before they arrest you again!”

“Then let them arrest me!” he said, proud and defiant. “We have lived the last ten years of our lives for this moment! I will not be made to falter now!”

His words… They were grandiose and absurd, like a child reading from a fairytale. Just how far gone was he?

Emi, however, was getting desperate. 

“Dad, this… This isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t break you out of prison to take revenge on Denki, I broke you out to give you your life back! So we could be together again! You and me! A family!”

“Plans change, Emiko,” he said dismissively. “Isn’t that right, Denki? Sometimes, things don’t go the way you think they will, and people die. That’s just the way of the world. There’s no sense in fighting it.”

Denki’s fists were clenched, shaking with fury, electricity sparking off of his knuckles. But Emi wasn’t done talking yet. 

“You promised me,” she said, stepping closer to her father, desperation thick on her voice. “You said they wouldn’t get hurt. That was the only reason I-!”

“Enough, Emiko!” their father shouted, shaking her off. “You didn’t hesitate to go through with it before but now you have cold feet?! This has to be done! For your mother! For justice!”

“Mom wouldn’t have wanted this!” Emiko shouted back, beside herself. “She may have been zealous, and… and misguided, but she never tried to hurt her family intentionally! That girl is your granddaughter!”

“I do not have a granddaughter because I do not have a son!” Renjirou roared, spittle flying out of his mouth, his wide-eyes bugged out with insanity and grief. “Not anymore!”

Emiko stepped back, surprised, and a little scared, as though seeing him for the madman he was for the very first time. 

“But perhaps you don’t feel the same,” Renjirou continued, turning back to face Denki and Kyouka, Aika still struggling and crying in his arms. “Perhaps neither of you really loved your mother after all.”

Emiko flinched as though she'd been slapped, but though his father's callous comment had seemingly cowed her, it had the opposite effect on Denki. 

"I did love mom," he said, his eyes boring into his father's. "We all did. But a parent shouldn't prioritise their own dreams over the safety and well-being of their children."

It hurt to say out loud because it was as much an indictment of both of his parents as it was of himself. He of all people should have known better. 

Renjirou was glowering at Denki now, a twisted smile on his face, delighting in his moment, but Denki’s eyes had shifted seemingly of their own volition to his sister's. She was staring at him now with an unreadable look on her face. He had no idea what she was thinking, what was going on behind those golden eyes of hers. 

She, however, apparently understood what was going on with Denki, because after a moment, her expression changed to one of grim determination. 

Denki’s stomach tightened painfully as she stepped up beside their father. 

“Alright, dad,” she said softly, turning her gaze away from Denki and up to their father. “You win.”

Renjirou smiled, pride and satisfaction shining on his face. 

Slowly, Emiko reached out with her left hand and gently touched his shoulder. 

There were tears in her eyes as she looked up at him, her familiar lopsided smile trying to work its way onto her face. 

“I… I love you, dad.”

He didn’t respond. He simply stared down at her in confusion like he didn’t understand what the words meant.

The only warning was the brief flicker of lightning on her right arm. Faster than the eye could see, she jerked her fist up, catching her father just under the chin with the strongest punch she could manage. 

He stumbled back, stunned, Aika dropping from his arms as his eyes, wide with shock, rolled into the back of his head. He crumpled to the ground, boneless. 

The world seemed to erupt into motion. 

Kyouka darted forward, seizing Aika, pulling her into the safety of her arms. Yaoyorozu and Kirishima appeared around the distant corner, catching up to them too late. Gizmo moved to check on the still unconscious Tomahawk, still holding protectively onto Rai. 

But Denki stayed where he was, his disbelieving eyes locked on his little sister, watching as she sank to her knees beside her unconscious father, who she had just betrayed, hugging herself and crying. 

Chapter Text

Approximately two years after the death of his mother, Denki Kaminari was released from prison. 

A large guard whose body appeared to be entirely made of wood, complete with a long mane consisting entirely of trefoil leaves and a thin mustache of rigid bark, had come to get him from his cell earlier that morning. They’d walked through the narrow, white-bricked halls of the complex in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, the overhead lights dying everything in a grotesque urine yellow color, before Denki had been left in a cold, empty room devoid of any decoration aside from a small, hard chair and a scuffed metal table, both of which had been bolted to the ground. 

And then, he had been given paperwork. A lot of paperwork. 

Finally, after being given a set of ill-fitting street clothes that he was allowed to change into - a pair of cheap jeans and a thin white T-shirt without any brands or markings, he surrendered his prison garb and, without any sort of fanfare, was given permission to leave. 

If he had had it his way, he would have been in for longer. 

After waking in the hospital and hearing the news from Jirou, Denki had basically lost the will to go on. 

His mother was dead. His sister was still missing in action though he was fairly convinced he’d lost her, too. His father had been arrested as well. The majority of the PLF members were expected to receive life-sentences as a result of all that they had done to aid Shigaraki in his nation-wide war. And even though he’d done his best, even though he’d changed sides and had risked his life to help the Heroes and police put an end to the conflict… Well, he’d have to have been incredibly naive to think that he was going to get out of it scot-free. 

His friends had initially rallied to his side. It had surprised him, honestly, how vehement they were, insisting that they’d testify on his behalf at his trial, that they’d speak out for him, that they’d do whatever they could to get him acquitted. 

He was touched. He was. It meant a lot that they were willing to risk their newly-won popularity and public images by supporting the man the news had begun calling ‘The UA Traitor’. His friends were better people than he had the right to know. 

But the problem was, that’s not what Denki wanted. 

The time from hospitalization to trial was relatively short, all things considered. He’d been allowed a couple of weeks to recover, but once he had, he’d been escorted away from the hospital in handcuffs and towards a prison cell where he would await his trial. 

Due to the large number of criminals who had been apprehended in that final battle, it had taken some time, but before too long, only a few months thanks in part due to his being a higher-profile case than a majority of the PLF members, the date of his trial came. 

And to the frustration of his friends who had turned up in support, to the horror of his lawyer, one of the best in the industry, hired by Yaoyorozu, Denki chose to throw the entire case they’d meticulously built on his behalf straight out the window. 

He looked the judge dead in the eye, acknowledged his guilt, and asked to receive the maximum penalty she could give him. 

The onlookers were confused. His friends agast. The prosecutor delighted. 

Denki felt nothing. Nothing at all. 

He had lost everything. After the things he’d done, he didn’t deserve the second-chance his friends were trying to give him. He’d apologize to them later for the time and money he’d allowed them to waste on his behalf, but… This, this was what he deserved. To be locked away in prison, where he could rot in a hole, alone, where no one could see. 

Someplace where he wouldn’t have to face the world again. A world without the family he’d failed to save. A world in which he could never be a Hero like his friends. A world that he no longer wanted anything to do with. 

The judge was an older woman who honestly looked like she probably should have retired several decades before. She was wrinkly and shriveled, grey hair tied back in a tight bun, with a protuberant nose that supported a pair of tiny though surprisingly thick spectacles. The loose skin that dangled under her neck quivered with every breath her tiny frame took, like the wattle of a turkey. 

But the look in her eyes as she gazed down at Denki from her seat of power seemed to pierce right through him. Her stare was clear and cold and calculating. And she appeared to size him up in an instant. 

“I recognize that look in your eyes, young man,” she said, voice surprisingly sonorous for a woman of her advanced age. “I’ve had countless villains brought before my courtroom in my many years, and I’ve learned to recognize the difference between those who are penitent, those who are proud, and those who are pawns. But you, young man… You are none of these things. You are afraid.”

Denki stared, not understanding. 

“I have already familiarized myself with your case,” she continued, clasping her knobbly fingers together and observing him through her beady glasses. “And I’m afraid I am not going to dismiss you in favor of defaulting to the highest penalty, even if that would free up my morning schedule, whatever you may wish. I am here to see that justice is served, and to that end, I am going to hear this case out till the end.”

And they did. Denki remained quiet for the most part, with the exception of when he was called to the stand. They questioned many people, from his friends and the faculty of UA to others from the PLF who’d been arrested. 

It was a long trial, longer than he wanted. Hearing his crimes recounted only made the pain of his loss and the guilt of his mistakes even worse. And though his friends did their best to speak in his defense, though they tried valiantly to extol his virtues and the many things he’d done to help bring the war to a close… in his heart, it didn’t matter. 

He knew what he was, what he’d done. All he wanted now was to stop delaying the inevitable. 

Seeing Jirou on stage had been the hardest, however. The passion in her voice as she tried to defend him, her recounting their reunion on the hill, the warnings he'd passed them, his final efforts, his decision to blow the dam…

But he couldn’t see it that way. To him, her testimony merely damned him further. 

He had killed his own mother. He should have died there with her. 

Getting to keep living, even locked away forever in a prison cell, was more than he deserved. 

Why couldn’t his friends see that? Why were they even trying?

Finally, after a couple of hours of legal jargon and the repeated recounting of the worst events in Denki’s life, all of which floated by in front of his listless eyes like a dull, torpid dream, the judge announced her decision. 

“You have my sympathies for your loss,” she began, and in truth, she really did sound sympathetic. “I cannot imagine the pain or suffering that you are going through right now. But I’m afraid that, if you were hoping that I would consign you to a life of imprisonment, you are sorely mistaken.”

Denki blinked, and for the first time that morning, for the first time in months, since the day he’d awoken in that hospital bed, an emotion echoed throughout his body. 

Fear. 

“I will not allow you to hide away forever in a prison cell simply because you wish to run away from your problems,” the elderly woman continued, and there was a sharp crack of condemnation in her tone. “I don’t believe in waste. I am certain that you believe it would be much easier for you to be hidden away somewhere where you wouldn’t have to deal with your problems anymore, but I do not agree. You are of no benefit to anyone, least of all yourself or the society that you have wronged, while locked away.

“Thus, it is my ruling that you shall have a punishment that fits your crimes, as well as the price you have already paid in trying to correct them. I sentence you, Denki Kaminari, to two years in a state penitentiary, with the possibility of early release for good behavior. But even more, I sentence you to having to return to the world you are trying to run from.”

Denki swallowed, feeling a confusing mixture of fear, despair, and gratitude swirling around inside of him. This… was not what he wanted, but… 

The elderly woman could apparently read his expressions as clearly as a book. 

“People and stories like to pretend like the sum of a person can be defined by a singular act, a singular moment, but that is romantic drivel. Not only is it untrue, it is also unfair. People are too complex to be so easily defined. You are young still, with a long life ahead of you. You’ve made mistakes, yes, terrible ones - but you’ve also done your best to correct them, and, even if you haven’t always succeeded, you have good friends who want to help you. 

“The storms of your life have not yet finished beating upon you, Denki Kaminari… but if you take what you’ve learned from the storms that have passed, you can prepare yourself for the ones that are to come. Learn from your mistakes, take ownership of your short-comings, but do not let them define you… and the day will come when you can hold your head up proudly again.”

Denki would repeat the woman’s words in his head many times over the next year. He rejected them at first as naive platitudes from someone who could never understand his situation or the things he’d been through. But as time passed, isolated in his prison cell, away from even other prisoners on account of the fact that many wanted him dead for betraying the League and Shigaraki, he found himself returning to them again and again. 

He had thought that he’d been ready to give up on life, but the deeper he fell into his depression, the more his nightmares of his mother’s final moments haunted him, the more he found himself subconsciously reaching for any source of hope or light that could lift him from his despair. 

Visits were not allowed, so during his incarceration, the only contact he had with the outside world and his friends were through letters or gifts that they’d occasionally send him. He’d get care packages on occasion; mochi from Uraraka, sweets from Sato, a blanket from Asui, books from Yaoyorozu, porn mags from Mineta. Everyone wrote him letters, albeit at different frequencies. Some, like Mina or Kirishima, wrote him at least once a month, keeping him up to date on their lives and the goings-on in the world, telling him how much they missed him. Others, like Todoroki or Bakugou, he was lucky to hear from once in a blue moon. 

Jirou wrote to him every week. Her letters were simple, full of her signature dry humor and affectionate insults. They never discussed what happened. The letters were superficial - friendly and a welcome distraction from his darker thoughts, and he would reread them constantly over the intervening months, but they never spoke about what had happened on the night of the attack, about his mother, or his confession to Jirou over the headset moments before the dam blew. 

Perhaps she was being kind, not wanting to be yet another reminder of his failures. Perhaps she hadn’t heard him; it had been loud, the frequency busy… Perhaps she didn’t know. 

In a way, he almost hoped she didn’t. After all, what right did he have to love someone like her anyway? She was better off without him. 

That didn’t stop him from responding to her every letter, or the letters from his other friends. Though he told himself he deserved to rot alone, he greedily awaited their letters like a dehydrated man in a desert. They sustained him, kept him going. They were all he had. 

And then, a year and three months later… he was released. Early, on good behavior. He tried to view that as a good thing - a positive sign. But it was true that he’d considered attacking a guard or pretending to escape on more than one occasion just to get his sentence extended. He hadn’t gone through with it. He was afraid of how his friends would react. 

Regardless, he was out now, and it was time. Time for him to fulfill the second half of his sentence. Facing the world again. 

He pushed open the double-doors, exiting the prison for the first and final time, and found himself once more outside in the warm spring sunshine. 

For a moment, he simply stood still, feeling the warmth of the sun slowly soak into his body.

The sky was… so blue. Had it always been that way? 

The air… The sensation of the breeze tickling the hairs on his arms… Had it always felt so wonderful?

There he was. Alone. Unemployed. Homeless. Without a single yen to his name. 

Did he have the right to feel like this again? Warm? Free?

He jumped when the sound of a car horn loudly interrupted his thoughts.

There was an old grey minivan in the parking lot nearby with its engine running. When he didn’t recognize the vehicle right away, his thoughts turned to PLF survivors and the potential that he was already being targeted, and he began to panic. 

Then the driver-side window rolled down and he found himself staring at Jirou. 

“Hey,” she greeted in her familiar deadpan. “Get in the car, loser.”

Numb from surprise, Denki didn’t even realize he’d obeyed her until he was already buckling his seatbelt. 

Feeling awkward and completely unsure about what was going on, he hazarded a nervous glance in her direction like he was an awkward middle-schooler again only to find her watching him, biting her lip and trying not to laugh. 

“...What?” he asked, suddenly defensive. 

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, throwing the car into reverse and backing up. “It’s just… you look like such a dork.”

He grunted, not sure if it was still ok for him to banter with her like they used to. He felt so out of sorts, like this was a dream, like it wasn’t really happening. That he could be in such a normal situation with Jirou again, after all that had happened… it felt wrong. It felt impossible. 

“Who’s car is this?” he said instead, vying for a more normal conversational topic. The vinyl seats were uncomfortably hot from being exposed to direct sunlight for too long.

“My dad’s,” she answered as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the long, narrow road that would eventually lead them to the highway. 

“Oh,” he said simply, then, after an awkward pause, “That makes sense. I didn’t exactly peg you as a minivan type of person.”

She snorted. 

“What, but my dad does?”

He opened his mouth, looking for a response and finding nothing. Talking didn’t use to be this hard. Finally, he breathed out a laugh. 

“Yeah, ok… You got me there.”

And then… there was silence again. 

The radio was on, the volume turned down low so you could barely hear the soft rock buzzing through the speakers. The music was nearly drowned out by the drone of the air conditioner, pleasantly cool in the otherwise humid vehicle. The green, hilly terrain outside whizzed by at a high speed as Jirou swept him away from the prison and off towards his uncertain future. 

Finally, when the silence became too uncomfortable, he spoke again. 

“So… where are we going?”

What he really wanted to say was ‘There’s nowhere for me to go’, but that sounded too pathetic and he didn’t want to dump any more of his problems on her. He’d promised to face the world again. He’d figure things out eventually. Hopefully. 

Jirou gave a nonchalant shrug, her eyes fixated on the road ahead of her. 

“Back to reality, I guess. Fair warning - the others are throwing together a surprise party for you later this evening. They won’t all be there - some of them have to work tonight - but it’s gonna be a lot of people. That might be a bit of a shell-shock for you after being locked up for so long, but… well, I don’t think we could stop them if we tried. Brace yourself.”

Denki was staring, but he couldn’t help it. They were… throwing him a party? For him? Why? He didn’t… They didn’t need to…

And Jirou, the off-hand, casual way she referenced his time in prison, like it was nothing. Didn’t she care? How could she treat him like everything was normal, after all that had gone down?

He’d been quiet for too long. She shot him a curiously glance and caught him staring. 

“What? Is there something on my face?” 

She reached up to feel around her cheeks and chin with her hand, suddenly looking anxious. 

“N-no, no,” he replied quickly, turning away to gaze out the window. “You’re perfect. I just… I’m a little surprised, that’s all. You act like I was just… gone away on a trip for a bit. But… I’m not… I don’t deserve...”

He couldn’t finish the thought. His depression, the constant reminders of what he did, his mother, his betrayal… It loomed behind him like the moon, inescapable, casting twisted shadows on everything around him. He could pretend, for a little while, like things were going to be ok again, but… Well, they weren’t. How could his friends throw him a party like everything was back to normal? Like he actually belonged with them, when they all knew he didn’t? 

“Deserve…” she muttered to herself, looking cross, and Denki, thinking he’d misheard her, looked back in her direction. 

“What?”

“What you think you deserve doesn’t matter,” she said, gripping the steering wheel tightly in her hands and scowling at the road. “Our friends are throwing you a party because they missed you, idiot. There doesn’t have to be a deeper meaning than that.”

But Denki shook his head, unable, or perhaps just unwilling, to understand. 

“I get that, Jirou, but… It’s just… We all know what I did. I’d rather not pretend like I can just be forgiven when we all know-”

But he was cut off by a loud, “It’s not about that!”

He stared, mouth slightly agape, as Jirou struggled to get a hold of herself. 

“You just… You keep talking about what you deserve like you can make up for what happened by completing a bunch of arbitrary tasks and marking out check-boxes, but…! That’s not how this works, Denki! Our friends are throwing you a party because they miss you and they want you back in their lives! That’s it! You don’t have to do anything else, just… be their friend again!”

But that sounded too simplistic, too naive. You couldn’t just ‘be friends’ again. How could they ever trust him? How could he ever look at them without being swallowed by shame?

“But… why?” he asked, aware that Jirou was already upset and that making her even angrier was only going to end poorly for him, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. How? How could they bring themselves to be willing to forgive him when he couldn’t even forgive himself?

“Because!” she said loudly, not quite yelling but almost. “Because we - they - I mean, I…!”

And all of a sudden, her frustration with his pessimism melted into surprise embarrassment. Pink burned its way across her cheeks like sunburn and she sat up stiffly in her seat, casting him several quick, accusatory glares out of the corner of her eye. 

Finally, after a moment of tense silence, she said, her voice soft and vulnerable, “...You never gave me a chance to respond to you. That night, when you went to the dam… I thought I lost you. I thought those were going to be the last words I ever heard you say and you didn’t even do me the decency of letting me answer.”

Denki felt his throat go dry. This… was not where he’d expected this conversation to go. 

She wasn’t looking at him. Which was a good thing, because she was driving and he didn’t want to crash. But he kept his eyes on her anyway, on the rosy stains on her cheeks and the way her earphone jacks seemed to wriggle anxiously through the air as she struggled to put her words together. 

After another lengthy pause, she shot him another quick, nervous glance and mumbled, “I… I l-love you, too… You idiot… We all do. N-not necessarily in the same way, but… Ugh, whatever! The point is, don’t talk about not deserving us, because it makes it sound like you don’t want us around. 

“Us wanting you back in our lives, it’s… It’s just something we want. Yeah, the decisions you made to try to fix your mistakes played a big part in winning us back, but… It’s not really about that. We forgave you because we wanted to. We’re giving you a second chance because we wanted to. It’s… It’s not about what you deserve. We just love you.”

And for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. 

She loved him. His friends loved him. Even now, even after everything. 

Denki wasn’t worth loving. Not after what he’d done. 

And they knew that. And they loved him anyway. She loved him anyway. 

He had to turn away so that she wouldn’t notice the tears that had suddenly flooded his eyes. 

They drove along in silence for a while, both too emotional and, honestly, too embarrassed to move the conversation along any further until they managed to collect themselves. 

Finally, as they neared the city, Denki spoke. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unusually raspy, and Kyouka shot him a look that was equal parts concerned and threatening, as if daring him to turn her confession down. “I just… It’s hard to accept that that could be possible, after all this time. But… I promise, I… I’ll do my best. I’ll work hard, I’ll start over again and…”

He wasn’t sure what he was trying to promise here. He wanted to get to the point where he could believe it, that he could feel like he was worthy of her, of them. He just didn’t know that that day would ever come. 

But Kyouka smiled, seeming to understand, and, hesitantly, she extended one of her jacks, wrapping it gently around his wrist. 

“It’s ok,” she said, muted voice barely audible over the hum of the engine and the buzz of the radio. “We have all the time in the world.”

He smiled. They had the rest of their lives, didn’t they? He’d lost so much over the course of the last few years, but… Finally, things were looking up for him. Maybe it was ok to feel hopeful.

Denki gave his head a quick shake, eager to abandon their serious conversation and move on to something lighter, something more… Denki and Kyouka. 

“Well, first things first,” he said, vying for a more jolly tone, desperate to recapture the old him. “I’ve got to find a place to live, first, cause… I’m totally homeless. Also a job. Also, pants that fit.”

“O-oh,” Kyouka said, suddenly retracting her jack and once again looking embarrassed and uncertain. “Well. I can’t help you with the last two, but… I mean… M-momo and I, we were living together, but, um… She recently moved out, so… I have a… spare bedroom. Y’know. I-if you… If you want…”

She wasn’t looking at him. Again, this was good because she was driving, but this time she had her face turned away so he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. A pointless effort, because he could see the red climbing up her neck, making her ears glow like cherries. 

Denki could only stare, disbelieving, at the impossibly adorable woman sitting next to him. 

Slowly, a spark of the old Denki began to glow deep inside.

“Wow,” he said after a moment, affecting a flat tone to hide the excitement and nervousness that were still bouncing around inside of him, “you work way too fast.”

“What?” she asked, whipping her head around. 

“You just told me you loved me,” he said, deadpan for all that those words thrilled him beyond belief, “not even three minutes ago, and you’re already trying to proposition me? Girl, you need to slow down a bit. You’re never gonna catch any fish with that aggressive approach-”

Kyouka, who’d been getting redder and redder with every word, finally snapped. 

“Fine then!” she shouted, beside herself. “Do whatever you want! Go beg Bakugou to let you room with him! See if I care!”

“Kacchan?! He’d kill me within a week!”

“Good! Maybe he’d let me help!”

“What?! What happened to you being in love with me?!”

“S-shut up! I definitely don’t love you anymore!”

“But that’s not what you-! Keep your eyes on the road!”

The rest of the ride back to the real world was filled with shouts and jokes, playful insults and infectious laughter and everything that was Denki and Kyouka. And while he knew he wasn’t magically fixed, knew that he’d be fighting his guilt and depression and the ghosts of his past for as long as he lived… Well, as long as she was there, he had a feeling it was going to be ok. 

Whatever storms lay in wait in his future, he could weather them all so long as he was with her. Her, and their friends. His family. 

He didn’t know if everything was going to be ok in the end. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like the possibility was not only there, it was strong. There was something for him to look forward to, now. A reason to keep fighting, to push through every new day. 

And he couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

The clouds overhead were thick and dark, rumbling with the threatening promise of a storm still to come. Small raindrops were already cascading down in ones and twos, not yet a full rain shower, but even still, they worsened the chill that already permeated the air, carried on a bitter breeze that sliced through his too-thin shirt like icy needles. It was early still for it to be as cold as it was, but there were musings on the news about a cold front passing through the country, bringing with it the possibility of an out-of-season snowfall. 

Denki’s kids had been excited at the possibility of a snowball fight over the weekend, but Denki had been quick to try and caution them towards the distinct possibility that it may not snow at all. He hated it when they got their hopes up only for something to come along and crush their fragile little dreams, but… well, weathermen were notoriously unreliable. 

Hugging his arms to his midriff in a vain attempt to retain his body heat and regretting not putting on a coat that morning, Denki hurried forward up the set of cement steps that led to the visitor entrance of the Hosu Women's Correctional Precinct. This was the first time in about a decade that he’d been to a prison. This was also the first time he’d been to one as a visitor and not an inmate. 

It had been about two months since the events of his tumultuous summer had come to a resounding close with the abduction of his children, his confrontation with his father, and the full-on battle with the remnants of the PLF. 

The aftermath had been a blur. No major injuries had been sustained by any of the Pros who had arrived to help out, and while the structural integrity of the building had been called into question, the warehouse had managed to contain the bulk of the fighting and there hadn’t been any lasting damage to the neighborhood. 

The villains were carted away by the police shortly after the fighting had ceased. Some went to hospitals to get checked out, but most wound up delivered straight to holding cells. 

This included his father and sister. Renjirou had still been unconscious when he’d been loaded into the back of a police van, the battery packs he’d strapped to his torso stripped away, but Emiko had been fully alert. 

He’d kept his eyes on her as she was helped into a van, not bothering to resist. She looked defeated, like not even she could believe what she’d done there at the end. He recognized the hollowness in her eyes, the listlessness of her movements. She’d lost everything today, due to her own actions - both starting and ending the conflict. He’d been there before. 

But there hadn’t been time to think about his sister then. Aika and Rai were safe. Traumatized, certainly, but safe. Alive. Back with their family, where they belonged. 

They were taken to the hospital to be checked out but hadn’t stayed for long. Denki, Kyouka, and Rai had little more than a few scratches. Aika had sustained some damage to her inner ears thanks to her little brother’s Quirk, but after a few tests, it was determined that it wouldn’t be permanent. She would heal on her own after a few days. What they needed now was rest.

Gizmo had offered to take over paperwork duty for Kyouka after he checked on Tomahawk’s condition, and the agency decided to give her the rest of the day off in light of what had happened. And so, after leaving the hospital, the exhausted family of four returned home. 

Entering their apartment together after all that had happened had been a surreal experience. 

They took showers and changed out of their dusty clothes. Ordered takeout because both parents were too tired to cook. And, for the most part, passed the evening in a state of awkward, reserved quiet. 

It wasn’t that Denki didn’t want to talk to his kids about what had happened, he just… didn’t know how to start. So much about being a parent was guesswork. 

Was it too soon? Should he give them space in the familiar safety of their home to calm down before bringing it up again and asking them to relieve the memory of their abduction? Approaching it now, so soon after they’d finally returned to normalcy, seemed cruel and insensitive. 

At the same time, however, Denki wasn’t a complete idiot. He could learn from his mistakes. And not telling Aika the truth about his past when he’d had the chance had wound up being a considerable one. 

And so, after they’d eaten, he and Kyouka pulled Aika into the living room and sat her down so that Denki could finally come clean. He’d debated over whether to include Rai in this conversation or not - he was only four, after all, could he really be expected to understand? - but it wound up not mattering, as he’d passed out almost as soon as dinner had ended and Kyouka had tucked him into bed not long after.

He would need to keep an eye on his son in the future, just to make sure he was ok. Rai was exceptionally good at forgetting things, like the fire from a couple of weeks ago. With any luck, he’d treat this whole ordeal like a bad dream and move on. Still, kids could hold on to memories for the longest time, and Denki didn't want this trauma to come back to haunt him in the future.

Aika wasn’t like that, however. She was smart. She retained things and she held grudges. And after the way the truth about her grandparents had been revealed to her… Well, there was no getting around this anymore. 

The conversation had been every bit as difficult as he’d expected. 

He went through it all slowly, step by step, though he tried to simplify it as best he could so that she would understand. She was still young, after all. Some of it would be hard for her to fully grasp.  He could answer more questions as she got older if she had them. What mattered most was that he was honest with her about what he’d done, why he’d done it, and what the consequences had ultimately been - for him, and for the people he loved. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d expected her to react. Angry? Frightened? Upset? After all, the story of his past, of what had happened to his family, was a difficult one to tell and an even harder one to digest - especially for a young child just learning it for the first time. He assumed he’d see confusion, fear, maybe even mistrust in her eyes. There was a very real part of him that thought that she’d never look at him the same way again. 

However, by the time he got to the end of the story, Aika barely seemed to react at all. She wasn’t indifferent, but her expression… it was closed, hard to read. What was she thinking? Had he ruined the image she had of him? Had he destroyed their relationship forever? 

He asked if she was ok, and she’d said yes… and then, after an awkward glance shared with Kyouka, he gave Aika a tentative hug (which she returned without hesitation, which seemed like a good sign), before leaving the room, hoping Kyouka would maybe be better able to help Aika sort through her feelings.

He stayed in his room for a couple of minutes, anxious and fidgety, before deciding to go hide in his makeshift office instead where he could pretend like he was working on his computer. 

As he passed through the hallway, he could just barely hear quiet words drifting from out of the living room. 

“...worry. You’re safe now, and your dad is still your dad, I promise-”

“It’s not that,” Aika mumbled, and Denki could hear emotion choking her voice. “I-it’s just, I think… losing your mom… would be really hard…”

Denki swallowed thickly, leaning his arm against the outer wall of the hallway, telling himself he shouldn’t eavesdrop yet unable to pull himself away. 

“...yeah,” he heard his wife reply, her voice unusually low. “Yeah, it… It really would be, wouldn’t it?”

There was the soft rustle of tiny footsteps on the carpet, followed by the sound of what he assumed was Aika embracing her mother. 

“I love you, mom,” she squeaked, crying into Kyouka’s arms. 

“I love you too, sweetie,” Kyouka whispered back. 

Denki pushed himself away from the wall, retreating into the office as quietly as he could. He caught a brief glimpse of both of his girls as he passed, arms and jacks wrapped around each other. 

They would be ok, he decided. Aika may need time to come to terms with his past, but if there was a silver lining to any of this, it was that her relationship with her mother seemed to be repaired. And that, at least, was something to smile about. 

Something to smile about...

The prison seemed like a nicer place than the one Denki had been interred in. It actually looked clean, for one thing. Maybe female prisons were just nicer? Like women’s restrooms. Was that sexist? It seemed like it. Denki was almost offended. 

The process of actually getting back to the visitation room was a laborious one. Even though he’d scheduled this ahead of time, he still had to show multiple proofs of ID, his Quirk registration, fill out forms stating his relationship with the prisoner, have his clothing inspected, empty his pockets, take off his shoes… It was obnoxious. 

Then again, the criminal he’d come to see was an ex-PLF terrorist who had broken another man out of prison not too long ago. He supposed regulations like these existed for a reason. 

When he’d finally been allowed to enter into the visitation room, he couldn’t help but take a moment to marvel. 

It looked just like it did on TV! The small desk with the telephone, the large pane of glass separating either half of the room… He was expecting something boring, like just a table with two chairs and a security guard. Well, there was still a security guard, but… still. Exciting. 

Then again, Denki produced electricity, and his sister could absorb it. They probably wanted to keep the two physically separated, just in case. That made sense. 

After a few minutes of waiting, a door on the other side of the glass opened and in entered Emiko, led by a rotund security guard in green fatigues who looked like a bi-pedal armadillo. 

Emi stumbled toward the chair with a glare on her face. She looked… well, it could have been worse. She was paler than before, and thinner, and in her grey, ill-fitting one-piece prison outfit, she gave off the appearance of a child in a particularly uncomfortable onesie. Her hair was down, not being allowed hairbands to keep it tied up in her normal twin buns, which, unfortunately, thanks to the static she tended to gather, left her hair in frizzled disarray. 

She pulled her seat out, her wrists awkwardly handcuffed together, and plopped herself down rudely onto her chair. 

Denki took up his phone, holding it expectantly to his ear. When Emi didn’t move, he made an exaggerated gesture with it and she rolled her eyes. 

Finally, she took her phone off of the hook, bringing it up to her ear and pinning it in place with her shoulder so she didn't have to hold both hands up to her cheek. 

“What do you want, Denki?” she asked, her tone flat and uninviting. 

Denki smiled reflexively. “What? A guy can’t come and pay a visit to his baby sister?”

She scowled, a vein in her temple beginning to throb. 

“We have nothing more to say to each other-”

“I disagree,” he cut in, shuffling around somewhat so he was leaning farther forward in his seat. He held his sister’s gaze for a moment, making sure he had her attention, remembering the last time their eyes had met when their deranged father held his granddaughter's life in his hands. 

“This is going to sound odd,” he began, “coming from the father of the children you kidnapped, but…” 

Emi kept her face still, not reacting to the reminder of her crime, yet he noticed the way her fingers tightened into fists on the desk. 

“...thank you. For saving Aika.”

There was quiet for a moment as the two estranged siblings simply stared at one another. 

Then Emi shook her head, lowering her gaze. 

“Don’t thank me for that,” she muttered, addressing the desk. “I… It was my fault they were put into that situation in the first place, I…”

“That’s true,” Denki conceded, and Emi shot him a brief glare. “But you still saved her in the end. I know how hard that must have been for you.”

And he did know, better than most. 

Emi’s betrayal of their father there in the end had been scarily similar to Denki’s betrayal of their mother a decade past. Granted, their father still lived, there hadn’t been an entire war on the line… there were countless differences that added up to the two situations being completely different. But Emi had still betrayed her parent in order to do what was right, in a vain attempt to correct a terrible mistake she had made. Maybe he and his sister had more in common than he thought. 

Emi had been quiet for a while, gazing down at her hands which lay despondently on the desktop. Her fingers tightened, the knuckles popping like the crackle of electricity. 

“I think,” she began, her voice sounding hoarse, “that I… maybe understand, a little, about what happened with mom.”

Denki blinked, completely taken aback. He had not expected to hear that. Not now, or ever. 

“I still don’t forgive you,” she clarified hastily, shooting him a death glare that lost most of its effect with her being handcuffed and behind a sheet of bulletproof glass, “but… I guess I can… understand… what might have driven you to that point.”

Maybe she did. Again, their situations hadn’t been completely similar, but… 

“I have something for you,” he said, deciding to change the subject. He hadn’t come here to talk about mom. He didn’t come here to fight. 

Instead, he drew out of his pocket two pieces of paper, pressing them up against the glass so she could see them. They’d been cleared by the security guards earlier. One sported a crude crayon drawing of Denki’s living room, with a gaggle of stick figures sitting on what might have been a couch, playing what he could only assume were video games. The other was a letter addressed to Emi. 

His sister stared at the papers. For a moment, she didn’t say a word. 

Then, in a small voice that barely registered through the phone, she asked, “...why?”

“It was their decision, not mine,” he replied, lowering the papers so he could see her clearly again. He laid them down on the desk, watching as Emi scooted forward so she could continue examining them. “I don’t think Rai completely understands what happened, or that you were involved in it. When he heard me talking to Kyouka about coming to see you, he asked if he could come too, and, when I told him no, he decided to draw you a picture and asked me to bring it to you instead.”

Denki wasn’t mistaken. There were actual tears in Emiko’s eyes as she stared down at Rai’s drawing, guilt and shame showing through more clearly on her face than his son’s drawings did on the page. 

“Aika was more reserved,” he continued, glancing down at his daughter’s letter. It was short, barely covering half of the paper. But included in the body of the text was a thank you for saving her and an invitation to her next birthday party. “She does remember, and to be honest, I think she’s a little scared of you. But it seems like, now that she knows she has an aunt and what happened between us, she wants to give you another chance.”

Emi shook her head slowly, still staring down at the papers. 

“But… Why? I don’t… I don’t deserve…”

“You’re right,” he cut in, his voice low. “You don’t deserve it. After everything you put them through, either directly or through your association with the PLF, you should never get to see my children ever again.”

Emi flinched, leaning back, turning her face away. From the tense way her shoulders were set, the glower on her face… it was obvious that this is what she thought he’d come to see her for. To berate her for what she’d done. To attack her on behalf of his children and their safety. 

And if Kyouka was here, that’s probably what would have wound up happening, regardless of his intentions. But she wasn’t here, by design. And he hadn’t come here to fight. 

“...However,” he continued, softening his voice, “someone told me once that forgiveness and second-chances aren’t just about being deserving. Sometimes, people just love you, and they’re willing to take that risk for you.”

Slowly, Emi turned her head, staring at Denki with confused, emotional eyes. 

“What are you…?”

“My kids apparently want to give you a second chance, Emi,” he said, giving her a slow smile. “They’re young, they’re naive. They still don’t understand just how horrible the world can be, and they’re better for it. And I think… I just might be willing to give you a second chance, too.”

True, it seemed stupid. He’d given her a chance before, and she’d betrayed him in the worst way possible. Yet… Denki had been in her position before. He’d betrayed the people he’d loved, made terrible mistakes… and Kyouka and his friends had forgiven him. They’d given him a second chance, even when he didn’t deserve it. Where would he have been right now if not for them?

And, honestly, part of him wondered if that abandonment and isolation, the same that he’d been saved from, is what led to their father’s distortion. The Renjirou who had tried to kill Aika was not the same man that Denki had known ten years ago. If he hadn’t been left alone, if someone had reached out a hand to him… could Renjirou have been saved?

He didn’t know. Perhaps he’d never know. But what Denki did know was that, after the mercy and forgiveness that his friends had selflessly offered him, he had absolutely no right to refuse to offer it to another. 

That was what Heroes did, after all. And in that way, at least, he could still try to live up to that dream he’d lost long ago. 

Emi was staring at him like he had grown an extra head. After a moment, she scoffed and shook her head, looking away again. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said bitterly. “Even if that were true… I’m going away for life, Denki. I’m a renegade PLF member who broke a man out of prison and kidnapped children. Second-chances don’t mean much when you’re going to be locked away forever.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “Or maybe not. I have a friend - a lawyer, who I’ve asked to represent you. He was raised in the PLF, too, so he knows what you went through. Besides, you were a minor during the war with Shigaraki. A brainwashed teen, raised by a cult? People can be more sympathetic than you realize. At worst, we’re looking at kidnapping and breaking a villain out of jail - but the former you actively worked to undo, and it was technically you who apprehended dad, so… We might be able to help reduce your sentence by a bit.”

She’d jerked her head back to him when he said the word ‘breaking’ and cast a nervous glance over his shoulder towards the guard who was monitoring them. 

She licked her lips, suddenly unsure. 

“This is… off-topic,” she began, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, “but… do you know… what happened to Yuu?”

Off-topic? Hardly. Then again, her hesitation made sense. It wasn’t common knowledge yet that he’d helped her break their father out of prison. 

The boy, who’d been taken into custody along with Emi and the others, had been a handful. Bakugou had had the pleasure of sitting in on his interrogation. He’d been very open about his role in the breakout, desperate to take the blame to lessen Emi’s charges. His heart was in the right place, and even crass, narcissistic Bakugou could tell that much. It helped that Aika had already explained how she and Rai had made it out and that the boy had tried to protect them. After giving him some time to calm down, Detective Nakamura was able to cut him a deal. 

“He’s fine,” Denki confirmed, watching the way his little sister’s shoulders sagged with relief. “We got him checked out at the hospital; no major injuries. He was determined to testify on your behalf-”

“You can’t let him!” Emi cut in hurriedly, but Denki waved his hand consolingly. 

“Relax,” he said, skirting around the issue as delicately as he could. The boy’s Quirk was too dangerous to be made public, even if he could only use it once a year, and if he testified, he’d only incriminate himself and wind up in some kind of juvenile detention hall. Best to keep it a secret for now. “We talked him out of it. He’s an orphan, so they were going to put him into the system, but I felt like he’d been through enough, so… I’m his legal guardian now.”

The look of shock on Emi’s face was nearly comical. 

“Yeah, don’t read too much into that,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “The kid doesn’t like me, like at all. I offered him our spare room, but… Well, anyway. We got him enrolled at a nearby high school, so he can come and visit you. We even got him his own little apartment. So long as me or one of my friends checks up on him every now and then, the police say he’s fine to start his life over again. He… hasn’t been accused of any actual crimes.”

Again, skirting the truth. They knew he was involved in the breakout, but he hadn’t participated in any of the other criminal activity, and he’d tried to help Aika and Rai. He was just a kid. It wasn’t his fault that he’d wound up being raised by a group of MLA escapees. And since he couldn’t use his Quirk again anyway for another year, he had been labeled not a threat. He hadn’t really calmed down until Denki had spoken to him about his intentions to help reduce Emi’s sentence. 

“He’ll probably be by to visit before too long; I asked him to let me visit you first so I could explain. Regardless, he’ll be here when you get out - which, hopefully, will be sooner than you think. And I’m not saying you’re going to get out of jail time, Emi, but… I am saying that, when you do get out, you don’t have to be alone anymore. Unless that’s what you want.”

He’d talked this over with Kyouka quite a bit before he’d come to visit Emi. His wife wasn’t too happy about it, but she had eventually agreed once he’d explained his point of view. He didn’t know if the day would ever come that she’d ever fully trust or accept Emiko, but… well, she was his sister, his family. He had to try. 

“Why are you doing this?” she finally asked, meeting his gaze again. Her eyes were heavy with tears and grief, but there was no hint of madness there. 

He hesitated, letting the events of the summer flash by in his mind’s eye like a terrible montage of fear and frustration and grief. 

“Because,” he replied softly, staring at his little sister through saddened eyes, “when I found out you were still alive, when you came to see me in that alleyway… For a moment, it was like I had a part of my family back again. I knew it was too good to be true, but… I thought I had lost you, and then you were back, right there in front of me. We’ve spent so long apart, wronging each other, making mistakes… but it doesn’t have to be that way forever. I know that… you have a lot of perfectly valid reasons to hate me. Honestly, after everything that went down, a part of me hates you too. But...”

He sighed, shaking his head and feeling a rueful smirk take over his face. 

“At the end of the day, you’re my little sister. And damn it… I still love you. You can keep hating me forever if you want. Never talk to me again once you get out of prison. Whatever makes you happy. But if you want it… part of your family is still here, Emi. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Emi didn’t respond right away, and to be fair, he hadn’t expected her to. She likely had a lot to think about. She was still mired in the guilt over betraying her father, in kidnapping her niece and nephew, in all that had happened between them. And even still, he knew that a part of her resented him, would always resent him, for taking her mother away from her. Honestly, he still resented himself. 

But one day, she would come to her own conclusions. And if, on that distant day, she decided she wanted a brother again… he would be there. 

The guard behind him cleared her throat, prompting Denki to turn around. She gestured to the watch on her wrist, and he grimaced. 

Out of time already? Well, they do like to keep these visits pretty short… 

“Looks like that’s it, sis. I’ll tell Yuu to come and see you whenever he has time. Let him know if you need anything from me, alright?”

Because honestly, he was beginning to doubt that he’d be hearing from her of her own volition any time soon. 

He made as if to stand and stopped with a jolt when her hands struck the desk in front of her. 

“Wait!” she shouted, and Denki winced as the shout transferred directly from the receiver to his eardrum. 

“What?”

She hesitated, opening and closing her mouth like she wasn’t sure how to form words anymore. 

“Can I… Is it ok if… I send a letter to respond to Aika and Rai?”

Denki smiled. 

“Sure. I think they’d love that. I’ll leave these with the guard so they can give them to you later.”

He scooped up the papers, rising to his feet and moving to set the phone back on its hook. 

“Thank you, Denki,” his sister mouthed through the glass, a small, familiar, lopsided smile growing on her face. 

Denki smiled back, waving farewell, before turning and heading out the door. 

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how this was going to turn out. Emiko’s problems with him weren’t going to disappear overnight. Still, he was going to stick to his word about helping to reduce her sentence if he could. The way that she had betrayed their father there in the end, the way she reacted to the picture and the letter… she wasn’t a threat to his family anymore. Part of him wondered if she really ever had been, outside of her connection to her father and the MLA. 

Emiko had lost most of her life thanks to the MLA. And part of that was Denki’s fault, albeit indirectly. Still, what kind of big brother would he be if he didn’t try to help her get back on her feet?

As he exited the prison, heading back down those cement steps, he noticed that in the time that he'd been in the prison, the clouds overhead had broken, letting out thin, weak rays of golden sunlight. They weren’t strong enough yet to lift that early autumn chill he’d complained about before, but… now that the storm had passed, it wouldn’t take long. It never did. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and grimaced. He was late for his meeting with Tomahawk. After everything that had gone down, after thinking about all that had happened to him and his father and ruminating on how he'd lost his other job, Denki had come to a decision. 

He wanted to work with a program, or maybe start one of his own, to help ex-convicts get back on their feet. Putting your life back together was hard, but for someone who'd been labeled as a villain, it was almost impossible - which meant that they were basically forced to return to a life of villainy just to get by. 

Denki had been in that situation and had only been saved because others had reached out to help him. Maybe Denki couldn't be a Hero like he'd always wanted, but maybe he could help in another way. Helping his sister was just the start. And inviting Tomahawk into his plans had been a no-brainer, given her influence as a Pro and her family history. 

Plus, inviting her over to dinner to talk about it had been hilarious. He had pretended like it was a thank-you for her help with rescuing their kids, but her nervousness around his wife continued to be a treat every time he saw it. Still. He was going to miss their meet-up if he didn't hurry. 

And so he set off down the street, back towards the train station that would see him eventually back to where he belonged. Together with Kyouka in the home they had built, with the children that he loved and the friends who supported him. 

He had weathered the storm and this… This is what came after. 

That light on the horizon. The promise of brighter days yet to come. 

He couldn’t wait.