Chapter Ten

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.