Chapter Two

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," Kyoka 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.

Kyoka 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."

Kyoka 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.

Kyoka, 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 Kyoka. 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 Kyoka 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.

Kyoka 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 Kyoka 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 Kyoka exited the bathroom several minutes later, Denki rolled onto his side to face her. Normally, they weren't very cuddly while they slept. Kyoka 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.