Chapter Four

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.