Chapter Twelve

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.