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For The Glory

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A hero.

By definition, it was someone who saved people while getting nothing in return. A knight in shining armor, who was ready to sacrifice himself as long as the people who look up at him stayed safe. A role model, a revered leader whose words were poems of wisdom, the man who could flip the world and make a change: A hero.

Many years ago, a newborn baby, right out of the womb had manifested a quirk. A known story, which was no longer surprising anyone, as for eighty percent of the world’s population now had a quirk of their own. It could be the simplest superpower, but it was still supernatural and made you feel special.

A long dream of humanity came true in a blink of an eye, and now there were so many people running wild in the streets and calling themselves heroes that it was hard to count exactly how many of them.

Thus, why was it, that the definition was no longer relevant?

Usually, kids who dreamed about changing the world were laughed at. They told surreal stories, making words turn into nonsense with their mouths and innocent frames of minds. They received a warm smile, and respond: “I’m sure you’ll be a great hero!”; the phrase could be formed in more than one way. You could play with the words and adjust them however you’d like. This was how young souls began their journey into the heroic trap.

After all, it was easy to spread lies.

It was even easier to pledge empty promises.

Not that it was someone’s fault, per se. It took more than one man to devastate the purest essence and turn it into an industry of horrors and illusions. Of empty fame and buffed ego. Just one big circus show of manipulation, wasn’t it ironic?

Honestly speaking, Denki really couldn't say anything, he was one of them. One of the zombies that fell into the trap of the glorified heroic world, blinded by the money and fame it promised to bring you if you dared to step in.

And if you had some ties and relations. Perhaps some spare money to spend, you might just make it.

The moral was: Don’t dream of being a hero, kids. Unless you were rich, had diplomatic or economic ties with influencers or powerful people in the hero industry. Because your skills didn’t matter, how well trained you were, it wouldn’t lead you anywhere. Nothing but favoritism could turn a man into a hero. Most of the successful heroes were rather rich from wealthy families, or people who became friends with rich and wealthy people and found themselves part of them.

Of course, there would always be that one lucky bastard, but he was one in millions. Do that math yourself.

The legend of All Might was just an example of the said lucky bastard. He was well trained, he was doing his job (or at least did) with full heart and passion, making people follow him because of who he truly was but - but it was one in a million people. He was one of a kind.

And you know? When a dumbass failure like Denki concluded this, probably there was something wrong and rotten in this. After all, it was Kaminari Denki we’re speaking about.

The sound was something that could be described as that: a ‘swoop’ sound and then a dull pop, as a few drops of yellow liquid poured on his bare shoulder. The drops didn’t hesitate before they began to trickle down slowly, threatening to slide off his shoulder completely, but they were stopped by the sharp movement of a handkerchief on his skin, a sterile towel actually, which sent a sharp arrow of pain up his spine.

Denki breathed in.

“And...Done.” a pat on his shoulder. Denki lifted his eyes to look at the woman standing above him, who was smiling innocently at him. As if she didn’t just inject a drug into his body. As if she hadn’t been doing it for the past year and a half.

Her pink dreadlocks fell on her shoulders and yellow, eerie eyes were digging into his own. Denki looked away with more force than he needed to. “What’re the results?” he simply asked.

“Results,” she murmured as she wiped her hand. “Is that all you care about, Kaminari?”

He decided not to answer.

“Well,” is all left for her to say after being rejected of a response, “Fine. I found nothing,” she shrugged.

Kaminari shot her a look, his eyes narrowed a bit. “But-”

“I think that you’ve been skipping your daily dose, haven’t you?”

Denki recalled the past few days. “No, I haven't.”

“Hm,” Dr. Hatsume hummed and spinned on her chair, to face the computer screen in front of her. “Then maybe we should change your meds again, but I'm afraid that it’ll make you need to come here more than once in a month.”

“How much more?” 

“Once a week?”

Kaminari swallowed. “Nevermind then,” he didn’t want to visit this place more than necessary.

Mei eyed him from the corner of her eyes, licking her plump, red lips. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, when then Denki stood up and reached to grab his shirt.

 “Are you alright to leave?” she asked, it sounded like a whine.

“Yeah,” he answered shortly, coldly, not wanting to open an unwanted conversation.

She clinged to her tongue. "You used to talk more," she noted innocently, causing Denki’s shoulder to tense a bit, despite his mind being all but a blurry, dazed mess. He shrugged, unable to wreck his mind for a better answer. “I can’t blame you, you poor thing-”

“And whose fault is that?” he retorted, not thinking. Mei snickered.

“I’m doing this because-”

“I know,” he cut her, “Gotta go.”

He felt a little childish when he didn’t respond to her goodbye and slammed the door behind him. It was his way of showing discomfort and maybe a bit of a grudge he had been carrying around for the past year and a half.

Kaminari shoved his hands into the pockets of his purple hoodie and sniffled, trying to avoid all the curious eyes shot at his direction as he passed the white halls of The Institute for Gadgets and Support Items, or shortly I.G.S.I - the one of a kind institute with the best professors, doctors, and scientists, that made machines come to live. It was a special place, specialized for inventors to create support items for heroes, and well the place was fancy and huge by all means.

The opening ceremony had been five years ago, and since then the institute seemed to only get bigger, fancier and gather more passionate scientists. It was open for the whole day and night,  and if you managed to work there - congratulations, no more worrying about money. The salary there was crazy.

Denki was almost jealous, almost. He wasn’t surprised that some of them earned more than the world’s best pro heros.

He stepped outside and breathed the cool air of mid-October into his lungs. After a few moments of standing like an idiot, Kaminari began to walk down the street. It was noon, and the people were flooding the streets from the right and left. Everything seemed to be so peaceful, calm.

Kaminari rummaged through his pocket with trembling fingers for his earphones, trying to take control over his hand with all his might. It seemed that the effect of the drug had begun to start, and he was better to get home before his brain went blank for at least an hour. After realizing that he couldn’t grab his earphones he cursed under his breath, inhaling slowly to calm down. His hand stayed in the pocket.

“Hey, isn’t that Chargebolt?”

The phrase cut Denki’s ears like a sharp arrow, making the color fade his face for a single moment.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Can you even call him Chargebolt anymore? I mean, he retired more than a year ago.”

Whispers all over Kaminari’s head. He shook them off, trying again to grab onto his earphones. He didn’t want to hear it. It had nothing to do with him. Why did they even need to discuss it as they were passing him? Why did people keep doing this every time?

“He changed so much, God.”

It wasn’t him who changed, it was the world that had changed for him.

Denki speeded his walk, and as he went farther from the group of people, the walk turned itself into a run. And soon enough he found himself running. Lungs were burning, sweat gathering on his forehead as his throat dried out and his heart beats increased. He made a sharp turn from an alley, wanting to reach his street as soon as possible - when suddenly something exploded from behind.

Instinctually, Denki turned his head back. A few meters away, a window of the bank was smashed and smoke rose from the building. Some screams, that sounded as though they were staged, echoed in his ears. It felt that the people were screaming just to make the feeling that something supernatural and special was happening. As if they were actors. Waves of them were running to the sides, escaping, as the face of some random villain appeared out of the smoke.

He knew the villain wasn’t looking at him. He knew that he was too far away to even be seen by him - but he still felt his eyes piercing his flesh, judging his body. His legs felt numb, and his mouth was dry. It was suddenly hard to breathe because the instinct to dart forward and fight the evil was just so strong-

But he stood. He didn’t move. There was no need - soon enough a hero would show up and do his job. And he wasn’t wrong, because a moment later someone screamed: “Deku! Deku is here, we’re saved!”

The green haired hero was indeed here. He appeared on the top of another building and leapt down, hitting the villains in the face with his fist: “Detroit Smash!” he screamed in his usual high pitched voice that refused to change since high school. It was funny because he was a buffed guy, a pro-hero of fame and glory. The new Symbol of Peace.

Kaminari's breathing stabilized, as he heard a few more strikes from inside and Deku turned toward the people. He raised his hand and smiled broadly, showing that there was no more threat. That this villain was no effort for him at all. The people around him cheered, they screamed, they adored and worshiped him. Kaminari couldn’t deny the fact that once he also adored his heroes. All Might, for example.

After a short check that nothing was going to pop up and destroy the moment of victory, Kaminari decided to go away before the press would appear, followed by the police and eager fans. He owed Deku for taking away their attention, so he could slip into his apartment building safely, with no need to face the whispers about him anymore.

Denki managed to get to his apartment without many obstacles, only his body that tried to shut down before he hit the bed. But he was used to this, thus he made his way home safely. It was impossible to open the lock when his hand was trembling like crazy, but somehow he managed anyway and pushed the door open with his body.

His apartment was nothing fancy: a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. It was quite small, something he could finance with the little money he had from his current job, and that wasn’t beyond what he needed. Gray walls, plain boring, cold floor. The furniture was mostly old stuff from outlets, so he didn’t spend a lot of money on it. Sometimes he didn’t understand how he had the amount of money to keep him under a roof.

His medication was what took most of his money. All the reassuring promises of Insurance companies, who promised discounts and subsidies were discovered to be sweet nothings. He learned that the hard way, for a year and a half by now. He saw nothing wrong with them earning money on him, but he wished he could skip that stage when he realized that his life was already ruined and scattered into pieces.

He kicked his shoes and dashed toward his bed before he collapsed on the floor. He felt his energy drained more and more, and when he finally managed to enter his room - his body hit the mattress and everything went black and dark.

Chapter Text

“Do you think that this is enough to defeat me, huh?! You damn heroes!”

He is out of his mind. It is no more the Tomura Shigaraki they have been fighting against since their first year of high school. It’s a mad man now. A mutation of a bloodthirsty, brainless nomu and a human being who has lost his last threads of humanity. He turned himself into a monster, and as the new generation of the young pro heroes - they’re responsible for defeating him.

Chargebolt feels the electric currents jump and swirl around him, enveloping his tired muscles.  

Zap.

The pain is gone. It’s so easy to manipulate his nerve system with his quirk.

"Stop it, Shigaraki!” Deku stands a few meters ahead of him. His fists are clenched and body is shaking with pure rage. Not only him, though.

“Make me!” he darts forward and hits Deku, whose body lights up in greens and reds. The force of the collision between the two opponents makes the air around them whistle and swirl in a small tornado which blows away small pieces of the crashed floor beneath them. Deku can’t stop him alone.

Ground Zero roars and soon enough the battle regenerates, even though they were all drained, bleeding. The battle cry of Shigaraki calls the other nomus. Deku and Ground Zero are against him, while the rest prepare themselves to face once again the unscrupulous monsters’ army dashing toward them. Uravity is the first to attack - she forces the crashes around them to float above her head and wrecks it upon the monsters.

Red Riot is the next to leap and smash the head of the closest one. 

Suddenly someone jumps at him from behind. “Come with me,” it’s Earphone Jack who grabs his palm. She is blood soaked as well. Her image is a little blurry in his eyes. When he thinks about it - everything is clogged and moves funny. He shakes his head, forcing his attention to the heroine. “There are still people in the building.”

Chargebolt’s eyes go wide and round, “Shit-” he breathes out, then looks at their friends struggling against the nomus - “But the nomus-”

“You’ll go stupid at any moment now, right? It’s not smart for you to use your quirk - so come with me!”

She isn’t wrong.

Earphone Jack signals to someone behind them that they are going, and both dart inside the crumbling building. They use the stairs -he thinks- and run to the upper floors. His mind is still clogged, it’s as if small clouds are floating all over the place, and no matter how many times he tries to blink them away they don’t leave.

He also can barely feel his body, and it’s’ weird - as if he isn’t the one using it. Chargebolt feels tired.

People scream in terror, their voices echo in the corridors and crack in his ears like drums when the fight outside make the building quake. “Hurry up!” Earphone Jack is leading them outside - when has she gathered all of them? They weren’t here a moment ago! - as Chargebolt checks if anyone had been left behind.

He doesn’t remember doing it.

“Is there anybody here?!” his voice is muffled by the explosion from outside. The whole building trembles, the floor crashes from above. “Fuck-” he swallows a lump of panic, his body is drained and he isn’t able to function properly. “We need to get out of here!” yells, knowing she will hear him. 

He pushes people to move faster down the stairs, sanding electrical zaps to explode anything that’s threatening to smash their heads off. The building is dangerously close to collapsing-

And in fact, it does. 

As soon as the last person comes out of the building, the ceiling collapses. Kaminari leaps forward and pushes Jirou out of the way, a squeak of a surprise rolls out of her lips. Her eyes widening in terror as he falls to the floor.

His face crashes in the rock below. The pain erupts inside him even though his mind is still fuzzy. But wait, isn’t that what happened- or…?

The pain is agonizing. He refuses move.

“Kaminari!” the voice is muffled, almost as if it isn’t here. He can’t lift himself, his legs are trapped; smashed under the collapsed ceiling. He doesn’t feel them anymore.

“Run-” he chokes out. 

Then another explosion shocks the place. 

The sound of a crash echos around him. A scream. Does anyone call by his name? He can’t tell. Nothing feels real anymore. His mind is torn away from the events more and more as an irritating beeping echoes in his ears so loudly that his eardrum is about tear-

 

The annoying buzz of his phone vibrating in his pocket woke him. 

Kaminari jolted up his eyes wide and terrified. Confusion took over him for a few moments before he remembered where he was. On his bed, in his apartment, after passing out from the drug. He couldn’t feel his arm like he fell asleep on it. But he could feel that he was trembling and shivering.

His forehead was sweaty, as cold drops of it dropped down his face.

Everything was so blurry. His head hurt, his mouth was dry and body sore. An anxious feeling spreading in his chest: He had had a nightmare, but he couldn’t seem to remember what it was about. Perhaps it was for the better. His nightmares weren’t welcoming at all.

Kaminari swallowed. Inhaled. Exhaled. Everything was alright. It was just a dream - but his body was aching. Especially at the places where his robotic limbs were connected to what was left of his original ones. He lifted his phone with the other arm, that wasn’t numb and trembling (was it even possible? He wondered). It took him a few moments before he was focused enough to read the name written on his screen - My Pretty Alien Queen - and tons of hearts. 

“Oh Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath and slided to answer, then put his phone on speaker and dropped the device next to him on the bed. “Hey,” his voice was hoarse. Denki cleared his throat. 

“Hey Kami, sorry, did I wake you up?” she giggled, her voice was happy and cheerful as always.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “But it’s fine. I shouldn’t sleep all day,” he stretched his arm and moved it around until the numbness was replaced with prickly tickles and he could feel his arm again. 

“Oh well - Are you coming today?”

Denki frowned. “Where…?”

“To the bar, dummy. Bakuguo, Kirishima, Sero and I have a day off. Remember?” she chuckled. 

“Ah!” his eyes widened with the realization. “Right! Almost forgot, sorry.”

Mina laughed, but it wasn’t easing Kaminari’s discomfort for forgetting again something quite important. “It’s alright. You had your check up today, right?”

“Yah… I’ll probably be dead so excuse me ahead of time,” he joked, but felt that it wasn’t funny. He wasn’t even smiling. 

She wasn’t laughing either. “Then maybe we should-”

“No!” he jerked into a sitting position, and now his head was spinning. “No. It’s alright!” it wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling good. He hadn’t been for the past year and a half. Kaminari held his head and massaged his temples until the discomfort went away, even if just a little bit. “I’ll see you there, bye.” 

Mina sighed. “Bye,” she hung up.

Kaminari fell back and closed his eyes, trying to breathe in slowly. He was still shaking a bit from the dream, unable to remember it. But he could guess what he had been dreaming about. He shoved it to the back of his mind, out of his reach, as he always did.

“Fuck…” he whispered.


The bar was a very loud and messy place. Not that Denki minded, per se, he enjoyed crowded places and the music was nice - but not today. Today it just gave him a headache.

“Stop,” a large arm was shoved ahead of him and pushed him back. It was not strong enough to even make him stumble back, and he could just keep waking because despite how it looked like he could overpower the man easily but he obeyed. “You can enter only after the age of twenty-one.”

Not again. Sero and Kirishima looked back and giggled. “Sir, I’m twenty-six,” demanded Denki, shooting an irritated glance towards the guard. The man in the black sunglasses, even though it was ten pm, observed him for a few long minutes before he stumbled back with realization.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Chargebolt-”

Denki cut him before someone managed to hear him throughout the loud music. “It's alright, just let me pass.” he smiled a forced smile at the man, who nodded and moved away. Denki stepped towards his friends, sighing heavily. “Is this going to keep happening or will I have to be like forty for it to stop?” he murmured, Sero wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“Who knows?” he poked his side playfully, Denki smiled tiredly, and they entered the club.

The dance floor was crowded with people who were probably half drunk, dancing to the rhythm of the loud melody. At least they were happy. 

The bar was full and they barely managed to find an empty table, miraculously, they had settled in before anyone else did. Pink, blue and purple lights flood the place, and it was dazzling. Honestly, he just wanted to sleep. But that wasn’t him speaking, it was the drugs.

“Sweet,” Kirishima chuckled as they receive their menus. “So what’s up, guys? How are you today?”

“Very tired,” laughed Sero.

“Mood,” Denki sneakered, leaning with his upper body on the table.

“I can’t believe that we got a day off. And that we managed to get the same day,” Mina beamed. “I missed you all so much, it’s not even funny!” 

“I would’ve gladly stayed home and sleep,” noted Bakugo, eyes glued on the alcohol menu. Kirishima smacked his head.

“He’s happy to see you too,” he translated. “Kami, how’s your new job has been?” he asked, looking at the blonde. 

Kaminari forced himself into a normal sitting position. “Fine,” he shrugged. Recently, he had started working at a small coffee shop, not that far away from his house. His state of body and mind still didn’t allow him to do a normal job, not that he knew exactly what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t live off what the government paid for a retired, handicapped pro-hero. The money was simply not enough to pay for everything, so he decided to work.

He couldn’t work for long hours, he couldn’t stay focused for a long period and needed a lot of rest. And it wasn’t because of his physical state… It was because of the treatment. And he could do nothing to change it.

“Why don't you find yourself a normal job?” retorted Bakugou. 

“Katsuki!” Kirishima snapped. Denki flinched.

"It's alright,” he reassured Kirishima. “He’s right… but Bakuguo, I’m just not able-”

“What would like to order?” a waitress cut them off.

Denki shut his mouth and looked away, escaping Bakugou's piercing gaze. He could hear his friends talking in the background, but he wasn’t part of it. The heavy feeling washing over him yet again, and he found himself fidgeting uncomfortably with the fingers of his left, bionic arm. 

He was out of his trance when Mina poked his shoulder, it was his turn to order. He couldn’t drink alcohol today, so he just ordered a juice, he wasn’t hungry so he decided not to spend more money than necessary. The waitress smiled kindly- no, excitingly (probably because she served four, famous pro heroes) and left them alone. A heavy sigh escaped his pale lips.

“So-” Kirishima started, all of their attention went to him. He told a story, something funny about his day, involving Katsuki of course, but Kaminari wasn’t listening. He was more like, nodding as an acknowledgment that he heard him, and he felt a little bad doing it - but he still was. 


It was one am when they decided to head home. 

Denki hugged Mina the last, nuzzling a bit into her neck. “Maybe we can meet up someday, just the two of us?” he asked. Mina clicked her tongue, patting his back.

“I’ll text you. Is everything alright? You look off,” she broke the hug and looked at him from beneath. Denki refused to maintain eye contact and wasn’t answering. He didsn’t know what to answer - especially because it was the same as always: The pills. The pills just made his brain wrecked and miserable for twenty-four hours. “Kami… Is there no other treatment?” her voice sounded desperate. 

Denki shook his head. “No. At least nothing that they told me. Everything is just… Worse. Like way worse than this. It’s so fucked up...”

Mina grabbed his wrist and held it up, her yellow eyes observed it as if for the first time. He could feel her fingers rubbing against the cold metal, a new technology that Mei used on him without his permission - that was why he was also drugged by her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled softly. “Well, I gotta go. Is your car here?” only when she nodded and pointed toward the car, he allowed himself to say his farewell to her for the night and both parted ways. Denki couldn’t drive until tomorrow evening, thus he decided to walk home.

It wasn’t like his bionic legs could get tired or anything. 

The allies were dark, quiet. He liked the night time, especially because he was alone in the streets and didn't have to face the looks people gave him. It was ridiculous - he retired more than a year ago, it was time to let it go. Apparently not. 

The breeze was calming, and softly caressing his face. Shivers ran down his spine, but he was comfortable, he liked it. There was nothing scary about it. Denki never thought that he was the type of guy who enjoyed late night walks with only the moon and stars looking at him, but wonders never ceased. 

Denki walked slowly. It wasn’t as if someone was waiting for him…

Oh wow, he hadn't been dating since… His last year at U.A. After breaking up with his ex, he was so busy with work that he hadn't the time for a relationship. And then, the Shigaraki Incidence happened and… From there, it just went downhill. 

He shivered. Denki didn't want to talk about it. 

A knot was formed in his gut, despite his attempts to distract himself from it. He breathed, it came out shaky - and then suddenly he heard footsteps. 

Someone was running, toward his direction. It was followed by heavy panting, which made Denki tense. It could be some alcoholic or drug user, and he really, really didn't want to deal with it now-

Except, that he was wrong. 

In front of him appeared a man, wearing a white lab coat, a scientist maybe? Or at least he thought so. The man’s face had stubble from not shaving, dark hair was greasy, glasses covered in some weird liquid that dripped down his face and chin. He was sweaty and stinky, his body lean and trembling. The man leaned against the wall and his eyes fixed on Denki, who stumbled back a bit, unsure how to react. 

"Uh, sir-" Denki choked on his word. "Are you- are you alright?" 

Why did he care? He was not a hero anymore. He wasn't supposed to be helping people in need. No one helped him when he needed it the most. 

"Kid-" the man coughed harshly, and then his legs collapsed under him and he sprawled on the floor. Denki gasped in surprise and kneeled next to him, eyes widening a bit. 

"Sir, hold on! I'm calling-"

"No!" the man roared, and with what seemed to be his last force, he lifted himself with his arms. 

His long, pale fingers crawled into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He held it out, his hand was extremely shaking as if it was on a breaking point. Only then Kaminari noticed the blood that stained his clothes and his body and continued to spread on the floor below him. The man coughed again, this time spitting blood from his mouth.

Denki's heart raced - he didn't understand, his fuzzy mind couldn't follow what was going on. 

"Take it, and don't -" the man spited more blood as he tried to talk, his arms gave up and he shoved the envelope to Denki - then bumped to the floor. "Don't let them have it…" 

"Wait!" Kaminari cried out, his face was pale and body trembling because he was just so confused. He needed to call an ambulance, the police, the man was about to die-

"Go!" he choked on his words, looking from beneath at the pale blonde. "Hurry-" then, his eyes rolled in their sockets, and he collapsed, leaving Kaminari to stare at him in horror. 

Chapter Text

Kaminari refused to acknowledge the fact that right next to him was a dead body. The body of a man who, just a few minutes ago, was alive.

He pushed those dark thoughts away as his fingers rubbed nervously at the paper of the envelope. His palm was sweaty, and he couldn't stabilize his breathing. It was all too much for his fazed brain to catch up to, he couldn't understand what the man was talking about. 

Them? Who? He swallowed hardly and looked down at the white paper, unable to see clearly. He was exhausted and confused and just-

Another set of footsteps were coming closer and closer. Kaminari jerked his head and looked around himself, before shoving the envelope into the pocket of his jacket as fast as he could - not even knowing why, he'd just done it.

"Kaminari?" 

It was a familiar voice, yet Kaminari was shaken because - oh no, he wasn’t ready to give explanations as to why was there a dead body beside him. He forced himself to look up, seeing the curly green hair slowly pacing toward him, eyes narrow with some weird feeling that the blonde couldn't describe. Something between discomfort and hesitation. 

"Midoriya?" he blurted out, hurrying to stand up as the pro hero approached him. 

He looked up, Midoriya was too close. He could feel his breathing upon his skin, wondering why the young pro hero was panting. Was he chasing someone? Maybe… Maybe that man was a villain that Midoriya was trying to catch? Kaminari swallowed, feeling Izuku's eyes digging into his own from above. It was funny how tall he had become after high school, the thought distracted Denki a little bit from the tension. 

"I'm sorry,"  Deku suddenly said and rubbed the back of his neck. "This guy was unexpectedly fast. Did he hurt you?" now both men looked at the dead body on the ground. 

"No, he- he passed almost immediately," Denki hoped he sounded calmer than he felt. 

"Ah…" Midoriya licked his lips. Something here didn't quite sit right. 

Well, it's none of your business Denki. You’re no longer a pro hero- "Why were you chasing him?" he spoke before he managed to arrange his thoughts. Perhaps that was the main problem with being Denki Kaminari. 

"He…" the green-haired hero looked at Denki, a little bit skeptical for some reason. He studied the blonde for yet another solid minute before he smiled innocently at him. "You know, hero stuff and all."

"Right," Kaminari nodded. He ducked his arms dipper into the pockets of his hoodie, feeling the envelope brushing against the fingers of his right arm. "Well, sorry for interrupting, I'm gunna head home now. Um good luck," he had no idea how did he manage to stay so calm, but he’d done it anyway. Maybe those were leftovers from his Chargebolt's persona, that was beating in his chest like a second heart. 

"No no, I'm sorry for involving you in this," Midoriya approached the dead man as he mumbled the apology, and crouched next to him, lifting his arm. He wasn't looking at Kaminari by now, that was his invitation to leave. 

Kaminari began to walk slowly toward the exit of the maze of allies, which led to his street. He crossed a few meters maximum, not even getting a moment to take a breath before Deku vocalized yet another question. 

"Say…" Kaminari stopped at the sound of Midoriya’s voice. It was deeper and scarier than he remembered, "Was he holding anything?" 

The envelope…? Denki bit his lip, forcing himself to calm down. He needed to give Midoriya the envelope, to tell him about those 'them' the man had mentioned before passing away, to not get involved in whatever was happening because he was no longer a hero, this wasn't something he did, Kaminari was just a civilian who wanted to go home and get some rest-

"No, why?" he turned half body towards Midoriya, golden eyes are meeting green ones and digging deeply into them, searching for a desirable answer. 

The silence was unbearable. It felt as if Denki was crashed and trapped underneath a heavy building, that he couldn't move nor escape Midoriya's eyes no matter where he was at. Ironically, Denki knew how it felt like to be trapped under a ruined building.

"Oh- Uh, umm, nothing. Forget that I said anything," Izuku smiled.

Denki's heart was beating rapidly, so fast it seemed that it was going to burst out of his chest and explode. And that hurt. He forced himself not to flinch, gathering any last will power he had as not to collapse. 

"Okay, if you’re sure," he choked on his own words. "Night."

Midoriya didn't answer.


Okay, you little piece of crap. Denki clapped both his hands one onto another and flinched - because hitting your palm with a metal hand wasn’t the smartest thing, but Kaminari wasn’t smart. You fucked up big time. What are you going to do now? Crying isn’t an option and I should stop talking to myself. 

Inhale.

Exhale. 

His breathing slowly stabilized, just enough for him to calm down and start to think properly. He couldn't really do that. Not at one am and not when he was on drugs. Denki tried to focus his thoughts on something specific, trying to recall the events one by one, the conversation he had with Deku but in no avail - he was too exhausted, and of course it was the fault of his medicine. If he hadn’t been on those drugs today-

Perhaps then he wouldn’t have find himself in this mess.

Kaminari plopped down on his couch and rubbed his eyes, chewing on his lower lip. The envelope. Those ‘them’. The man seemed terrified. What was in the envelope anyway? Should Kaminari check it out or… Or stay out of it because it was none of his business? Why, just why, he got himself involved in it? He had quit - retired a year and a half ago, he was no longer Chargebolt, just a random blonde guy with bionic limbs and a beating heart that didn't belong to him.

Without control, his hand crawled under his shirt, his fingers spread across his chest and clinged to his skin. He could feel the scar. A kind of little hill on smooth skin; but what was most frightening is the faint heartbeat he felt throughout the layers of his skin. The life of the one the heart belonged to flew in his veins, and he almost felt it, almost heard her voice echoing in his ears.

And it was comforting.

Weirdly and inexplicably he found himself calming down, as the thought of her being here, with him, inside of him, crossed his mind and sent relaxing waves. It was a warm feeling that filled him and washed over him, and only then Kaminari was ready to weigh carefully the situation he was in.

His eyes found the white paper on the table, lying there lifelessly. It reminded him that he needed to make a decision, what he was going to do now. He was already in a deep tar that clenched to his body and refused to let go. If he called the police, he would have to spend the next week interrogating. If he called Midoriya and confessed to him that the man had given him the envelope, he would probably be accused of collaborating with whoever this man was.

A dead end.

He couldn’t tell his friends about it, they were pro heros and would have to actually do something and then the two options he listed about would happen. He also couldn't do anything on his own, he had no longer access to all this… Heroic stuff that helps with investigations.

The most important thing was that he didn’t want to.

He promised himself to forget about this rotten world after the Shigaraki Incidence, the world which had taken his dear friend Jirou, the world that had taken his three limbs and forced him to live carrying Jirou’s weight in his chest for his entire life.

What Jirou would have said if she was still here? Kaminari knew, actually. She probably would call him an idiot and rethink for him everything.

Sadly, the only thing that was left from her was the beating heart in his chest.

“Okay,” he breathed out and grabbed the envelope. Before he would have the opportunity to reconsider himself, he ripped it off and threw to the table, spotting a folded piece of paper inside. He unfolded it with shaking hands, sweat covering his forehead.

The handwriting found inside was shocking. He got a headache from just staring at the almost unreadable scribbles on the white paper, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to calm down the panic attack that stroke him again. He was making a mistake, he knew that, but there was no turning back.

Now, eyes were open, he stared down at the paper, unsure if he was ready to whatever was written there.

To: Professor Ryo Hanazaki

Hello, it’s been a while since we have last spoken. You probably didn’t expect a letter at our day and age, but sometimes it’s safer this way. I hope that my handwriting isn’t too horrible, so my apologies to you if it is.

Unfortunately, I had to leave Musutafu, so from now on I must leave you and the business. Some heroes are on my tail, and the Servan suspects something. The last thing I wanted was to ruin all of your hard work, Hanazaki. 

However, you have to be careful too. I’m afraid that Kontrolker knows something. I’ve been working with him for the past year and I can assure you that he isn’t as dull minded as originally thought.

As an apology for my sudden leaving, I’ll give you some information. Our experiment is progressing pretty well lately, but you have to find a way for Birusk to get back on the game board - or else we wouldn’t be able to do the finishing touches. I’m really intrigued to see how his quirk will work with the BQS-M11 , but his retirement isn’t helping.

It’s also delays us from finishing the ultimate form of Seiun . We need to analyze the effects of his quirk on his nerve system and body generally, as well as the signals his brain transmits in the process. If you cannot get him back to business naturally, you'll have to switch to Plan B by January. I know that you dislike playing like that with the laws but it’s necessary so our experiment wouldn’t go to vain. I hope that you understand that.

What you do should consider, however, is that his body is still too weak and unstable to function normally. I know that Hastume has been treating him how I have told her, but I’m still not sure how his meds will respond to his quirk while activated, since I haven’t been given the opportunity to test it on him. My hypothesis is that the effect we wanted to happen will happen, but it’s likely that his brain will be severely damaged, unfortunately, higher than desired.

I’m not able to say more than this, because everything is still too vague. What I do expect you to do is to give Hatsume the prescription that I have put in the envelope with this letter. Tell her that she’ll need to prepare it by herself and give to Birusk in a month or two. It should cover the damage done in the past year. I don’t want our precious experiment to die too soon.

I hope that everything will be alright and that you’re doing great, Professor.

Sincerely,

E

Denki stared at the piece of paper in his hands, his eyes wide and confusion took over him.

He had no idea what he had just read, but everything about the written text beneath his eyes was sending shivers down his spine and making him want to puke. What were those weird words: Servan, Kontrolker, Birusk, BQS-M11, Seiun? It gave him a headache from just reading it alone, without the rest of the sea of words.

And why was Hatsume mentioned in here?

Okay, wait. Maybe there’s an explanation. He tried to tell himself. There were a lot of Hatsume running around in Japan, weren’t they? However, the context it was written in made it hard to not think about Hatsume Mei. But what creeped him the most was the mention about a retirement of that Birusk. The thing that was described in the last three paragraphs of the letter made him think about only one thing: His treatment.

But Kaminari knew that it was silly. It had nothing to do with him after all, hadn’t it? Why on earth would Hatsume feed him with some dangerous medicine? Didn’t make sense.

But then why was he trembling so much?

The prescription.

He really shouldn’t dig deeper, but he still found his fingers crawl inside the envelope again and pulled another folded sheet. He didn’t want to look inside, the anxiety gripping too hard into his chest - thus he unfolded the sheet.

Inside there were too many words and letters for him to really understand what he was reading, but he could say for sure that it was some kind of a recipe. According to the letter, it was to make some sort of… Pills? Drugs? Perhaps it was better to take it to the police after all?

No, that was not even an option. He knew what was really going on between the police and the heroes and he didn’t want to get involved.

He still didn’t get it, though - what the exact connection between the first part of the letter which talked about someone running away from Musutafu, and the last few paragraphs that were describing an experiment of some sort.

He was confused.

Now that he thought about it… Who was Professor Ryo Hanazaki? Though, the name Hanazaki sounded familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere not that long ago.

Kaminari rubbed his neck as he stared down at the two sheets in his palms, observing them carefully. It was rotten. Something wasn’t right. It smelled like troubles.

“I don’t care,” he threw it on his table and stood up, then tugged at his hair. “I really don’t fucking care. I’m not a hero. I’m just a guy that’s working in a coffee shop and has absolutely zero connection to the heroic world. I don’t care, I don’t care, I-”

Professor Ryo Hanazaki. Head of research on the effects of environmental and artificial factors on quirks.

Denki froze. He had met the man when he only begun his rehabilitation, a little bit more than a year ago. Hanazaki was the man who gave him the treatment and ran checks on him with Hatsume, the man that had had put Jirou’s heart in his chest, the one who gave him those limbs. He saved Kaminari’s life after the Shigaraki Incidence.

“Oh my-” Kaminari choked and covered his mouth, beginning to breath heavily. What was happening? It felt so wrong, no - he couldn’t take that anymore. Denki didn’t know how but he managed to grab his phone, to type the number of the closest police station and to press the call button.

Buzzt. Buzzt. Buzzt.

His heart was racing in his chest and pounding as it was going to explode for the second time this night. Sweat dripped down his face and black dots appeared before his eyes, coloring the room in dark tones of fear and terror.

Buzzt. Buzzt. Buzzt.

“Police Department of Musutafu, how can I help you?”

Kaminari forced himself to take a deep breath. “I-” he squeezed the words out of himself with force. “I want to report-”

And then suddenly, his window exploded.

Kaminari yelped and jerked to the side, his phone flying out of his hand and he covered his head with his arms. He rolled to the side, hiding behind his sofa, as the last shuttered glass fell to the floor.

He was pale.

Slowly Kaminari lifted himself, peering from behind the couch and staring at where once was his window. He heard a few screams from outside, probably people who heard the explosion. But it didn’t matter right now.

There was no one outside of the window, at least not a figure he was able to see. He swallowed, anxiety bubbled in his chest; but he pushed it into a dark corner of his mind. He was already in much more terrifying situations than someone shooting his window, damn it!

Very slowly, he raised his left arm. He straightened it and placed it at an angle that would be seen through the window - and just as he had predicted, at that moment a bullet pierced the air and crashed right into his palm. But the bullet simply freezed and slid down, while Kaminari folded his hand back and pressed himself against the wall, frowning.

Whoever tried to shoot him was still there.

He was stuck. Great.

As he was used to, Kaminari simply washed away any fear that threatened to rise in his chest. It was time to handle this situation like a proper pro hero.

What caught his attention next was the sirens of police cars. Shit. He remembered leaving the phone oncall, and the girl who answered him heard everything that was happening. And now there were police cars heading this way. Just fucking great.

Kaminari remembered suddenly why he hated the police.

He licked his lips and turned his arm. It handled the bullet before just fine… He would make it to the door, he just needed to protect his middle part and where his legs and his arm weren’t bionic. He inhaled deeply, before his eyes had lighten up in determination.

It’s now or never. Denki prepared himself and froze. He was waiting for a second, two, three - and then burst forward. His arm was hovering as a shield to his body, and something collided with it. Soon enough he saw the movements in the air as a few bullets darting through his shuttered window.

It happened so fast that he could barely tell what was really going on.

He slid toward the door, grabbed it and opened it sharply. The next moment it was punctured by a number of bullets, but Kaminari was already running down at a speed he didn’t know if he could handle when he was drugged as he was today. He leapt up the stairs and landed down, bursting into the hallway - and then was stopped by a sudden light that smacked on his face and blurred him completely.

“Hands up, it’s the police!”

Kaminari braked and crossed his arms in front of his face. The door burst open, the police officers were flowing in like tsunami waves. They surrounded him, their weapons were loaded and directed at him. The strong light still dazzled him and he backed away, biting his lip.

Well, he thought as an inexplicable smile curled up at the corner of his thin lips, I haven’t had this much action in a while.

Chapter Text

Once again, Denki was reminded why he hated the police. 

They brought him to the station with his wrists cuffed and guns at the ready. They pushed him inside a room, not giving him an explanation nor the ability to ask for one, and that freaked him out - was it even legal to do that? He was clearly the victim here! Not that they seemed to care, the officers wouldn't listen to him. 

The light in the room was blinding, he had to narrow his eyes before it had the opportunity to burn them up. Their cold, harsh hands were all over him, much to his discomfort, pushing and pulling.

He was seated in a hard, black chair, in front of a metal square table where a man was sitting across from him. Kaminari was finally able to breath but only for a brief moment. 

The man cleared his throat eyeing Kaminari, and honestly Kaminari felt shame washing over him in agonizing waves of bashfulness. He couldn’t understand what was happening, it was all going by so fast, and he was exhausted, under the effects of his drugs, medicine, call it whatever you want. He couldn't really concentrate enough on his surroundings at the moment. 

It felt so surreal. 

"Kaminari Denki, am I right?" 

Denki nodded dumbly. "Why am I handcuffed?" he retorted before the officer could insert another word. 

"What do you mean why?" he made it sound as if he was truly confused. "As a former pro hero I think you should know how do we handle criminals?"

Kaminari choked on air. "Criminals?!"

The police officer licked his lips. “Shall I spell it out for you?” his voice was dripping venom - it made a flame of anger flash inside of Kaminari’s chest. How dare this capitalistic pig make fun of him? Of Chargebolt for Christ’s sake-

Ah, but he was no longer Chargebolt. “Can you?” spit Denki sarcastically. It wasn’t like him, to get so angry, but he had the right to... didn’t he? A man died in front of him. He discovered that his doctors were trying to do... whatever with him; someone exploded his window, almost killed him, and Kaminari didn’t have enough money to cover the costs of damage. And turned out that the police thought of him as a criminal?! Who was this man anyway? He had never seen him and he retired only a year and a half ago. It was too much for him to handle at two am.

The man didn’t look offended at all - rather amused by Kaminari’s boiling frustration that he wasn’t in charge of the situation. What a sadist.

“C-R-I-M-”

“Fuck off.” 

The man chuckled.  “Look, Mr. Chargebolt - if I were you, I wouldn’t recommend you to do anything at the moment. You have no control over the situation, so if you want this to end as soon as possible and minimize the damage, you should do as I say. Am I clear?”

Shivers ran down Denki’s spine as he swallowed a lump of nerves. “Or what?” he asked, brows frowning. “I have rights you fucking-”

Suddenly there was the sound of a gun being cocked, as cold metal was pinned to the back of his neck. He froze, eyes widening, a bead of cold sweat slowly trickled down his forehead. They’ve got to be kidding.    

“Yes of course you have rights, but I’m pretty sure your knowledge of the laws is broad enough to know you should consider what I’m saying. I mean, no one will ever know what really happened here, and as long as our story is…” the man smirked, “Well, I believe that you know what I am trying to say,” he chuckled making Kaminari’s rage grow stronger. It was the fact that the man in front of him was actually making fun of him. Some idiotic zombie had a gun pressed against his scull ready to shoot him at any moment, he only waited for the pig to open its mouth and vocalize the order loud and clear.

His blood was boiling and his adrenaline kicked in, as he forced himself to not answer the man, to not satisfy him. To give him absolutely no reason to actually shot him dead.

“Fine,” Kaminari shighed. 

“Thank you, Chargebolt,” he placed a paper on the table. The black letters printed on it made no sense for Kaminari from the angle he looked at it, and his head was aching. “Let’s see what are we going to do with you…”

“Listen-”

“No. We’ve just agreed that you’re the one who's listening!” suddenly roared the man, and the next moment pain exploded on the back of Kaminari head. He yelped and ducked his head down, arms shooting up to try and grab onto it - but he was stopped by a pair of strong arms that pushed his own down. If Denki wanted to he could easily overpower him with his left, metal arm - but he held back.

And still, it was surprising. Did they just dare to hit him?

“Yes,” his voice was dripping venom as he spoke through gritted teeth. 

The man breathed in, before he looked down at whatever was written on the papers beneath his nose. "The report his says, that you broke into a house, exploded a window and tried to steal something-"

"What?!" yelped the blonde, feeling the shock hitting his face. "What the fuck?! It was MY apartment and MY window that exploded!" 

At this moment, anxiety bubbled in his chest and knot was formed in his stomach. 

Something wasn't right. 

Wrong. 

It was all wrong. 

"Well, that's what the report says," shrugged the man, "What were you trying to steal, Chargebolt? Through, I'm not sure I should call a criminal by a hero’s name," a villainous smile crawled at the corner of his lips, which made shivers ran down Denki's spine. 

"Check my bank account. It's my house, I've been paying for that apartment for a year now, stop the bullshit. Let me see the report there's gotta be a mistake!" exclaimed Kaminari, his eyes resembled puppy eyes of an abandoned dog. 

"We've already done that," shrugged, and took out of a black folder that was laying on the table beside him another paper. "We also spoke to your bank to see if there was a mistake, but-" 

"Do you think that I'm some sort of an idiot?" Kaminari cut him, the frustration and rage were now boiling inside of him. "There's no fucking way you could have done all of this! I was brought here less than an hour ago! I worked with the police, it takes you forever to just-" then, suddenly his mouth was shut. More correctly: His lips were forced against each other, with some force around him. 

Okay, so now he's using his quirk against me. A quirk that makes people shut up, cool. Denki snarled angrily, golden tired eyes piercing the men's brown ones. 

"Get him out of here. Not even a hero should be forgiven after an act like this!" he slammed his palm dramatically on the table, locking his gaze with Kaminari once again. 

What?! Denki squeaked in his sit, trying to yell that they got it all wrong. That it was all, simply, nonsense, and that he was baliming Kaminari for something he didn't commit! Why is he doing this?! He cried out in his head, feeling hands gripping his arms and pulling him into a standing position. 

He heard talking in the background but had hard times with understanding what was actually being said. Everything felt like a blurry mass of noises as he was being pushed out of the room. Kaminari stumbled on his feet, feeling he couldn't take it anymore. 

He was so close to shading a tear. 

Suddenly, pain rolled over his left shoulder, and down the small part of what was left of his actual, biological arm. He yelped in surprise and shot his glance, noticing how they were tearing apart the robotic arm. Panic flooded all over him: Were they going to take his legs, too? Was it their ultimate plan to humiliate the handicapped former pro hero? 

No. They didn't even look at his legs. Kaminari swallowed, forcing his mouth shut himself. They… They didn't seem to know about his bionic legs. He breathed, trying to calm himself down, as he watched them throwing his arm aggressively aside and pushing him outside. The thud of the metal hitting the floor echoed painfully in his ears.

He whimpered, shoulders tensing and head spinning from the simple misunderstanding he was soaked in, and then he noticed something that maybe he should have noticed before. 

The police station was awfully quiet.... And empty.


“Get off your lazy asses and get ready for breakfast!”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Kaminari scoffed, half asleep and rolled over on his back. His right arm felt numb, as for he was sleeping the entire night on it. A shaky breath escaped his lips, as he tried to lift his arm and rubbed his eyes - however, something was… off.

Frowning, the blonde slowly opened his gold eyes, which were met with a gray, dirty ceiling. He didn’t remember his ceiling being that dirty. Or actually, gray. Confusion took over him as he glanced to check what was wrong with his left arm, but what was raised instead was the remains of his shoulder, from which a sleeve hung loosely with no arm to hold it up it hit the sheet below. It was a dirty orange color, and the garment was stiff and stinky.

Kaminari narrowed his eyes, as they observed the room he was in. A small, square room, with a bed he was lying on and a metal heavy-looking door. A small window was placed behind him. At first, Kaminari couldn’t wrap his mind around a logical explanation for where he was and why, when suddenly all of the events from the night before stroke his mind. His eyes widened with the realization and he huffed, lifting his right arm and covering his face.

Fuck. Kaminari sat up slowly, it was a little bit uncomfortable without his other arm as a supporter, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Fuck. He breathed in slowly, pushing his legs to the side of the bed and rubbing his temples with trembling fingers. Fuck. Voices echoed all over the place, as he heard talking and walking from behind the door. It was followed by barks of someone, who asked them to walk faster. Or something like that, Denki wasn’t really listening. Fuck. 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

His door opened with a shrill squeak, which made him squirm for a moment and narrow his eyes. His head ached. He forced himself to look toward the direction of the sound, just to see a warden that was staring at him outside the room, frowning. "Come on," he hissed at him, then turned away, apparently opening more compartments.

Jail. He was actually in a jail.

FUCK! Kaminari pounded his foot against the iron under the bed, hearing it bend under the weight of the hit. He stood up and clung to his shirt, almost tearing the cloth apart. His eyes were pursed angrily, while his shoulders trembled. He felt himself on the threshold. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. Why on earth? What did he do to deserve all of this? A shaky sniffle was vocollized by him, as he glanced at the open door.

Thus, Kaminari was hit with the fact that he was a pro hero, and then a handicapped former pro hero, and now he was just a criminal.

The people outside flooded into the corridor, talking among themselves and laughing. His eyes followed them, while nausea formed in his stomach as he realized that some of them were villains he had captured, and he really didn't want them to see him. They probably would be over the moon with excitement. He bet they couldn’t wait to exact some revenge. 

He sighed heavily, shivers ran down his spine. He just needed to survive breakfast somehow, and he'd figure out what he was going to do next.

Speaking of surviving breakfast, he couldn’t recall when was the last time he had eaten. Probably before he took the meds yesterday, but all the stress and events made him lose his appetite. And probably the food here was horrible enough to make him puke. He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked out of the cell he was in, biting his lips nervously. This wasn’t going to end alright, was it?

After realizing he didn’t really know where to go, Kaminari decided to follow the wave of prisoners, all dressed in orange suits and looking like brainwashed wax dolls. They were talking as if they had never committed any crime and lived their life normally. For these people, living in jail meant three free meals per day, a place to sleep, friends to talk to, knowing that they had a ceiling above their heads.

And the was disgusting. Disgraceful. A mess. 

He and other talented pro heroes spent days and nights to catch them and arrest for what? For the authorities to feed them and spoil them? These people didn’t care about what was written in their files, they could just pretend they had changed and be released. Nausea churned inside his stomach. He had never really thought about it. But now, as he was walking amongst them, each step felt like an earthquake and the floor was going to devour him at any moment, he realized that the business was even more rotten than he had originally thought.

But… He also realized that treating them as if they were a piece of trash (which in his opinion, they were) was also wrong. Nothing you could do with them seemed to be right. You just had to take a neutral side and pretend as if everything is perfect. The population of this world seemed to be dealing with it just fine. 

His legs led him to the cafeteria. Honestly, these were the moments when having metal limbs was useful, because he felt that he couldn’t carry his own weight at the moment.

Kaminari passed the wardens standing at the entrance quality, trying to ignore the looks they gave him. Yeah, making fun of a former pro hero must be satisfying. He thought angrily to himself, as he clenched his fist.

The smells in the room were horrible, and he really wanted to turn around and go back to his room. He would rather die than eat this slop. But Kaminari forced himself to grab a tray with the disgusting “food”, and he walked to a secluded, empty place in the corner of the room, reluctant to talk to people. He didn’t want to be noticed, which wasn’t typical of the happy and sociable man.

Kaminari sat himself in a cold chair, almost tripping when he realized that he took a too sharp swing with his body and there was no arm to stabilize himself; And well, the other arm was holding the tray. Fucking christ. He placed the tray in front of him, staring at the… What was that supposed to be? Why was it orange? He wanted to go home.

The voices echoing from the small TV in the room caught his attention. He turned his head sharply, when he heard something that he really wished he was just imaging. 

The lady that appeared of the TV screen was a familiar face. Her name was Sugano Ibu, she was a newscaster that he knew personally. They had met a few times, during meetings and conferences. But he didn’t have a solid opinion about her. They never really spoke that much to get to know each other. He was flirting with her, but he did it with a lot of women in the past, so it really meant nothing to him.
However, when his name left her plump, red lips, he was suddenly very interested.

“Today, at one a.m in the Musutafu Police Department, we’ve received a report that a former pro hero Chargebolt was arrested for breaking into someone’s house and trying to steal from there. The owner of the house is currently unknown, and we don’t have information about what was the young former pro hero looking for. The police officer that’s in charge of the investigation, Hayashi Sawao, tells us that he refused to cooperate with the police.

“The mysterious thing about this case is not only because of the criminal’s disapproval of it. The vague information given to us by the police, tells us that he said that it was his house and tried desperately to deny everything that happened. We tried to contact his friends, such as Ground Zero and Red Riot but they refused to comment nor give any insight into the situation.

For now, Chargebolt is held in the district jail of Musutafu and the surrounding area; However, Hayashi Sawao is doing all he can to move the dangerous threat to Tartarus so he’d cause no more trouble. The reports say…”

Kaminari sat frozen, as he listened to the words flowing from the TV. Bullshit. He breathed heavily, as he heard giggles and saw the people around him pointing fingers at him. Bullshit.

“So this twink is really Chargebolt!” laughed someone from his right.

“Yeah man, who thought that that stuck up piece of shit is the fucking pro hero Chargebolt."

"Am I the only one who noticed that he doesn’t have a fucking arm?" 

Kaminari flinched. It was like a kick to the gut.

"Oh shit, you don't know?" 

Kaminari glanced back, toward the two man who caught his attention. One of them had insanely buff arms and a mischievous smirk on his bear shaped and heavily haired face. The other was pretty normal at first glance, but then, Kaminari's eyes widened as he realized who it was. A knot was formed in his stomach as they made a brief eye contact, shivers running down his spine. 

"Well," the smaller guy pierced Kaminari's eyes, "He was smashed under a building a few months ago. Maybe a year ago, I don't really care. I just know that I really, really want to kick his ass for putting me in this shitty prison," he spat, fully aware of the fact that Kaminari was listening. 

"Are you trying to pick a fight? He's obviously listening to you," a woman noted from behind, playfully pushing his shoulder. 

"Well, I can see that," the man, a face who Kaminari couldn't tag a name to, grinned at Denki. "Yo, fucker!"

Kaminari bit his lip, turning his head toward the plate. He didn't want to make any fuss. Any unwanted turmoil. 

"Hey," his voice was closer. Kaminari moved his eyes into the plate, as if trying to explode it. A hand was placed at his shoulder. "I'm talkin’ to you."

Chapter Text

"Oh," Kaminari breathed out quietly. 

The eyes of the prisoners turned towards him. It felt as if they were ripping apart his flesh and draining his body of blood, leaving a husk of his former self to wallow in its own misery. Electrical sparks ran up and down his body, making him twitch and shiver uncomfortably. 

"Oh? Is this all you've gotta say, scum?" Hissed the man, the grip around Kaminari's shoulder tightened. "What a rich vocabulary you got there."

Kaminari forced himself to frown, despite his unwillingness to do so. He had absolutely zero strength to fight the guy at the moment, especially because he had a vague memory of him chasing that man somewhere in the streets of Mustafu, but he wasn't that dumb. Denki understood that a confrontation was inevitable. 

"What do you want?" he exhaled, turning half body to him. 

"Hm, I wonder," the man slid next to him, facing the tired blonde. "Karma’s a bitch, isn't it?" he smirked, voice dripping venom. 

"Tell me what you want or leave," Kaminari stated sharply, with frustration accompanied by anger bubbling inside his chest. 

"Well, I actually do have a question for you," he shrugged, leaning closer. "So I know how bad I want my revenge to be," his voice wasn't louder than a whisper, and Denki had to gather all of his will power to not headbutt him right here and now.    

He felt his breath crackle on the back of his neck as he leaned towards him, so close that it became an intrusion of privacy Kaminari didn't agree to. 

"Say it already," Kaminari whispered back. 

"What's my name, Chargebolt?" 

Kaminari froze. He breathed shakily, eyes went round and face became pale for a moment. How on earth would he remember a name of a random villain? He guessed that he was talking about his villain nickname, but still - there was no way he'd remember. There were too many villains he had captured. 

"Time's runnin’ out," he said, licking his lips. Weird heat spread on his arm. 

"How should I know?" Kaminari said it in a stoic, monotonic voice. 

The villain leaned back, eyes narrowed, parting his lips. "I’m gunna fuckin' murder you, you piece of shit!" He roared, as suddenly he flipped the trey. It went flying across the table, missing Kaminari's head in a single millimeter. He yelped and backed away, wanting to cover his head but - he had only one arm. Which made it a little bit more… Impossible, than desired. 

If that was your intention from the beginning, why bother wasting my time with threats?! 

Kaminari felt sparks crackling between his long, lean fingers, an automatic reaction of his quirk. He hadn't used it properly in a while. 

The silence was replaced by sudden screams and yells, mostly those bastard whistling and calling out for a fight. The villain cracked his knuckles, an evil smirk growing on his face. 

"What's my name, Chargebolt?!" his hands shone in a bright, bluish light, before water began to spread from his fingers. He swung his arms as he jumped, almost hitting Kaminari's face on the process.

The blonde, without hesitation, leaned sharply back as his arm caught the chair behind him. He hoisted his right leg up, kicking the man under his chin and making him stumble back. The only thing he forgot about was the lacking of his other arm - which caused disbalance, and he found himself rolling off the chair to the floor. 

The humiliation was greater than he hoped it would, and the laughing around him didn't help. 

"Son of a bitch!" the villain cried out, backing a few meters away from Kaminari. Well, that was a perk. At least he wasn’t the only one hurt and humiliated. 

The blonde stood up, looking directly at the villain. "What’s your problem? Yeah I mean I put you here but fucking hell, you deserve this!" 

"Oh did I?!" He yelled, eyes growing wide with boiling rage and hatred. Two water balls formed in his palms while he roared and charged at Kaminari, raising his arm to slam them against his body. It was a dead end, if he used his quirk he risked killing the villain. He couldn’t remember how he'd beaten him last time, but last time he was healthy. He wasn’t missing an arm. He had plenty of room without fear of harming anyone innocent - not that the prisoners were innocent - but to hurt the other people around him wasn’t his top priority.

He barely evaded the attack, causing him to lose his balance for a moment. His leg turned and kicked the other man's ankles, and managed to knock the man down on the floor - but the villain was faster and slammed a water ball right at Kaminari’s face. The water filled his eyes, ears, mouth and nostrilla, causing him to choke and stumble back. As he tried to fight the intrusive water, the villain jumped at his feet and knocked Kaminari to the floor.

“How does it feel, Chargebolt?!” he roared, Kaminari noticing him shifting his arms to a cross position as suddenly he felt his skin drying. It was painful, as if his skin had the water had been sucked out of him completely. The dryness of his throat made him cough, and due to the lack of fluids he felt the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth and pharynx. “You deserve to die! All the heroes do!”

Kaminari had enough. He swung his arm sharply, electric ball was formed in his palm and he shot. The electricity spread in a white, blinding light and hit the man above him. He heard him cry in agony, as his grip on his quirk loosened and Kaminari felt the fluid in his body go back to normal. A heavy breath escaped his now chapped lips. 

Not wanting to waste a second, Kaminari kicked the man to the side and rolled, standing up and panting heavily. A vague memory was formed in his mind, as his eyes narrowed. Trouble in Musutafu: A new serial killer appeared, along with six victims who seemed to have their blood and body fluids sucked right out of them. He remembered the article, a case that the hero agency he was working for asked him to take care of. But he still couldn’t remember who exactly the man was, so it probably didn’t help that much.

The villain rolled on his back and sat up, holding his chest. “I…” he choked on his words. “I was-”

“Hey! What’s going on here?!” roared someone from behind the crowd of prisoners. Kaminari turned sharply back, spotting three guards, and the warden, making their way towards them. They all looked so mad, and tired, Kaminari couldn’t blame there.

“He attacked me,” Kaminari answered automatically. It was a common answer for pro heroes when starting giving a report, so he didn’t even notice how the words left his mouth, with full confidence that they would believe him.

“He electrified me!” cried out the man. “I only wanted to talk!”

Denki glared at him sharply, pure rage reflected for his eyes. “You-”

A hand was placed on his shoulder. He froze, slowly turning his gaze towards the warden, a man with brown tired eyes and flat brown hair with a hint of gray. He was his whispering something to his colleague. “They told us you’d be a pain in the ass…” he murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“Shut up. We’ve made special accommodations for you in case you make a fuss. Guess it’s time to use it,” said another man, talking Kaminari by his shirt’s collar and pulling him towards the exit.

“What?! No!” Denki wanted to kick, to push but he knew that in his current position it wouldn’t benefit him at all. “Why nobody will fucking listen to me?!” he cried out, to the void, because it didn’t seem that they gave a single shit about him.


How DARE they. Denki slammed his feet to the ground. What the fuck is wrong with them?!

He lifted his arm, looking at the silver chains attached to him. It prickled his skin every time he moved. “Special accommodations”, they called it. Denki sucked the air through his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, leaning with his back on the stone cold wall behind him. 

Seriously, is this shit even legal? It all smelled fishy. But why? Who would want to remove him out of… Of…
 
Of what? 

He massaged his aching temples, chewing on his lower lip. He had a lot of enemies, people who wished to see his head beheaded and hung up like they did to Asano Naganori or of his kind. But he really couldn’t point out someone specific, someone who had the power to do it.

Kaminari also wondered what his friends were doing? Were they trying to rescue him? To investigate by themselves? Probably. He knew that they wouldn’t sit still and let him rot in here. Or at least he hoped so.

Biting on his lower lip harder, Kaminari exhaled shakily, fighting a lump of tears in his throat. It couldn’t be happening. Not to him. It was ridiculous, humiliating. He was already humiliated enough since Shigaraki Incidence so why more? Why couldn’t the world let him rest? He’d been retired and wasn’t apart of the rotten heroic world, and didn’t wish to be involved in anything anymore but - but no. This circus of illusions and lies just adored him too much.

He wasn’t even the strongest pro hero! Worthless piece of trash would be a better description to him.

Someone who couldn’t save a life didn’t deserve to be called a hero. Someone who was living at someone else's expense couldn’t be called a hero. Even the heart beating in his chest wasn’t his, and he was supposed to be dead and-

The effect of his medication had already passed. His lips parted as the thought appeared in his mind that he wasn’t a half dead zombie anymore, and could actually somewhat function like a proper human being.

Which meant…

That he perhaps could form an escape plan.

Not the best way to prove his innocence, but he didn’t want to sit and wait.

There was no way of knowing that his friends would be able to get him out of here, so Denki needed to act on his own if he didn’t want to end his life as a rotten skillet in Tartarus. 

The chains… He needed to get rid of them first. With the force of his bionic limbs, in was a piece of cake to break down the door. They could also carry him faster than the people around here could run, which meant he had a good chance at actually succeeding in getting out of here.

A flame of hope sparkled in his golden eyes. 

Slowly Denki pulled himself into a standing position, still leaning on the wall. Okay. He breathed in, calming down his racing heart. It was the sort of excitement he felt every time he went to a mission as a pro hero. He almost let himself feel his blood boil in his veins, feel as if he was Chargebolt again. It sounded weird, but he couldn’t help but like it.

Then he pushed himself away from the wall. The chains were long enough for him to walk three small steps. They trained after him and he dangled on the floor, straightening the chain with his only hand. It felt a little bit ridiculous but no one was watching thus he didn’t care. Denki huffed as he tried to deny the extiment. 

At the moment the chain was aligned and strung on the floor, he swung his leg and smashed the metal. There was a dull thud and then his arm went free. He opened his eyes: It worked! He raised his arm, watching what remained of the metal bracelet on his wrist, but it didn’t stop him moving. How much did they disparage him, exactly?

Now the hard part - he needed to free his legs. He did the same with the chain of his left leg, but hesitated before doing it. He needed to make sure that they didn’t hear him. For a few moments he didn’t move, and when he made sure that no one approached the sealed compartment where they locked him, he performed the same action on the chain of his leg. It broke down with the same lightness as before, and he hurried to do it to his right leg too - thus he was released completely. It's just ridiculous.

Not that he was about to complain.

Kaminari shoved any interrupting thoughts aside, concentrating on the mission ahead of him. He balanced himself on his feet, shifted his weight forward - and then he charged. He turned around as he ran, swung his leg and slammed the door hard, pulling it away. It was flung back and banged against the wall, where it dropped to the side. The sound of the thud echoed all over the corridor, and, of course, a moment later - an alarm was sounded and probably roared all over the prison.

You’re not smart but it's too late now!

He burst into a run. Letting his legs carry his tired body through the corridors. It was a huge maze, and he didn’t have the time to really think about it. No map. No idea where he was exactly. And the yells and footsteps behind him weren’t a promising sign.

So he just ran.

“Stop!” someone yelled from behind, shots were heard. His heart was racing.

Kaminari dodged the bullets and made a sharp turn, entering a hallway that he was familiar with - the one that led to the roof. If I just- On the next moment he burst out running again as they were trying to shoot him from behind. A few bullets a scratched his legs, tearing apart the cloth but other than that left with no harm.

Someone yelled something from behind, sounded like “close the doors” but Kaminari had no time to process. He broke into the stairwell and began to climb the stairs, panting: Doubt of the little tiredness, or of the adrenalin that flooded him. He kept running up until he saw that he had reached the end of the ascent and burst through the door. They were still chasing him.

He ran forward and reached the hedge fence that surrounded the roof and froze, realizing he had completely forgotten about it. Fuck!

His chasers followed him and surrounded him, their weapons were loaded and directed at him. Their eyes pierced his gaze, as all the men were breathing heavily. “Nowhere to run, criminal.”

Kaminari forced himself to swallow the lump of nerves in his throat and smirked, putting on the heroic facade he had long forgotten how to use. “Oh really?” he asked, crouching. “I don’t think so!” he breathed out as he suddenly jumped back, letting all the force hidden in his bionic legs that he had never tasted out go free.

His body strained in air as he shut his eyes, and there was only one thought that crossed his mind as his flipped in the air and a shower of shots were fired at him.

I’m so fucking dead.

Chapter Text

Shinsou flipped through the white papers in his hands as his eyes scanned the text. 

The dates on the top left corner were recent, maybe printed yesterday or the day before. He rubbed his chin with his long fingers, eyes concentrating now on the headlines: “Hero Controller saved that day again!” and much more, all words praising him, and the good job he had done.

Shinsou couldn’t help the smirk that found its way on his lip. Yes, of course they would praise him - they should praise him. He was a pro hero who saved people and nearly got killed while doing it, he was the man who put his life in danger for utter strangers! Obviously, he should be praised.

They would never admit it out aloud, but every hero let his ego burst a bit when it came to the desire of glory. True, his real intentions were to actually protect people, but after the harsh years of studying and training, he had finally gotten to the realization that actually none of it mattered.

Now, the most important thing was to be noticed and be loved by all. However, there were a lot of people he needed to compete with if he wanted to be the number one hero.

Most notably was the current Symbol Of Peace: Deku.

They guy had been trained and basically raised by All Might, which automatically put him ahead of everyone else. People adored and envied him. He was a natural born leader and a sweet person in general. The moment All Might drove the public’s attention to him, his success was inevitable. Honestly, who wouldn’t love the successor All Might himself introduced to the heroic world? Only one idiot.

Speaking of that idiot: Ground Zero. The guy was… Something. Shinsou couldn’t deny that he had a ridiculously overpowered quirk and a natural talent. Because of his good relationship with Red Riot, who was also as adored as Deku, he had gained a considerable following. He had gone from a playground bully to a somewhat genuine person; it sounded like some Americain movie cliche but it worked. The press was thirsty to that kind of development. 

He was also an outed gay, and if Shinsou wasn’t mistaken, he was planning on getting married. Or maybe it was just another rumor, he didn't know anymore honestly. Shinsou knew that Ground Zero would never do any of these things to get rating and adoration, but in the end, it was what pushed him to the spot light. Same for Red Riot.

The last but not least: Shouto. Coming from a wealthy family, all of the people who knew his father accepted him immediately and did all the dirty work for him, a few sad daddy issues to the press and voilà: A fresh baked pro hero right out of the oven.

He was the only one that had to truly work for his spot, he had received a little bit of support from Eraserhead but considering he was an underground hero the man didn’t advertise his support for Shinsou as much as the other heroes. He wasn’t mad or anything, per se, he just wished that the way to the top wasn’t so… Slippery. It was easy to get lost under the spotlight of Deku, Ground Zero and Shouto, so he and every other hero at his level needed to be always ready to jump at any opportunity. Cooperate the best they could with their fans.

This was the heroic world, and he had to survive in it no matter what. 

His phone vibrated and made his bubble burst. Shinsou stretched his neck to look at who was calling, noticing the office number of his secretary. He took the phone, pressing it to his ear.

“Yes?”

"Controller, you patrol starts in five minutes. Shall we get your bike ready?”  

“Sure, I’ll be down in a sec.” 

Shinsou stood up and cracked his back, yawning. Being a hero meant patrolling, but most of the time it was boring, uneventful. The biggest crimes to occur were a thief stealing a wallet from an old lady. Not that Shinsou had thought that it was fine, it wasn’t and should stop but… was just boring.

Very, very boring. 

However, after the Shigaraki Incidence, nothing seemed to be exciting anymore. It was pretty much the climax of his pro hero career, and not just his but everyone who fought in that dreaded battle. Most of the pro heroes had a serious case of PTSD, at least those who were newbies and didn’t participate in the fight between All Might and All For All. After all, the Shigaraki Incidence was as horrible as that fight. 

A lot of pro heroes - both new and veterans - died. Some during the battle itself, some while evacuating civilians, some died from the aftermath, and some from bad injuries. There were also pro heroes who had lost limbs, some who couldn’t take it afterwards and decided to go on a hiatus and recover. It left a strong impact on everyone, especially the hard attacks from the media about it. 

The main reason for that was that it was still a mystery: How did it happen? When did it start? Why? How come they weren’t ready for it and it took them a lot of time and energy to fight back? Too many people, not pro heroes, had died or were injured badly. The catastrophe was blamed even upon All Might who had retired long ago. Some even saying that if he hadn’t stepped down this could have been avoided. But they were idiots. 

No one expected it. 

A lot of lives were lost after that. 

All Might was indeed a legend, a great man, but he wasn't a medium and his quirk didn't contain any part of fortune teller. Well, dumbasses were dumbasses no matter the circumstances. 

He glanced at his watch. 11 am, time for his patrol. He sighed heavily and stood up, preparing for yet another long, tiring patrol in which probably nothing would happen but it was part of his job anyway. If someone thought that being cashiers was boring, then had they ever tried being a hero? Shinsou snorted at the thought. 

The door opened as Mina peered inside, her yellow eyes scanning the room for him. "Hey, I finished. You ready?" 

Shinsou observed her for a moment. 

She looked tired. More correctly: drained. Deep, sleeping bags decorated her round eyes and her pink skin seemed paler than usual. A smile wasn't formed on her lips, and her stature was slouched a bit. The usual happiness was also gone.

Not that he was surprised… After all, her best friend was put into jail not that long ago. 

"Yeah," he mumbled, standing up and passing towards the door. "Are you going to the station now?" 

Mina nodded. "They promised no press or visitors at that hour, so I hope they won't force me into another interview on the way."

"Right…" 

"Bakugou and Kirishima are going," she said offhandedly.

Shinsou raised his eyebrow. "Kirishima dragged him there?" 

"Bakugo does care about Kami," Mina scoffed. "And well, it's Kirishima we're talking about. Then again, I think that they have a death wish, putting one of Bakugo's closest friends in jail for no reason. Must be dumbasses or something."

"Who knows? Maybe they do want to kill themselves but they're too pussy to commit suicide." he retorted sarcastically. Mina elbowed him in response. 

"Shut up. Don't you have a patrol to go to?" 

“Whatever,” he huffed, ending the conversation.

Originally, Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Bakugo and Kaminari formed a squad in high school. After Shinsou transferred into the hero course, he used to hang out with them sometimes. Officially he was apart of the Dekusqaud with Midoriya, Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki and sometimes Tsuyu or Yaoyorozu. Not that it really mattered, those groups were formed only because the endless fight between Bakugo and Midoriya. 

Anyhow, turned out that after the finished college, he, Mina and Kaminari all went to work for the same hero agency. The same agency that Kaminari went for his internship in high school, because Shinsou had none and Mina's bunkrupted. The three of them worked somewhat together, however, after the Shigaraki Incidence Kaminari retired and since then Shinsou hadn't really been in contact with the blonde. 

Though, he was worried when he heard the news from Mina.

Shinsou shook his head and left his office, heading outside of the building to his sidekicks waiting for him to start the noon patrol. The most boring patrol, because most of the action happened rather early in the morning or late at night. 

"Let's go. The usual plan,” Shinsou voiced it out robotically, not even waiting for them to reply before he started power walking down the street, finally mentally prepared for the tiring patrol.


So. Boring.

Shinsou looked across the street, meeting people's gazes before turning their heads in excitement and whispering to each other. He grumbled to himself, eyes narrow and feet aching with discomfort of walking for the past four hours straight. His arm hovered above his head, scratching his hair slowly. It was messy. The wind made it tangle, perhaps he should cut it soon. 

It wasn't as long as it was back in high school, but long enough to be annoying at work by that point. 

Licking his chapped lips, the purple haired pro hero scanned the area one last time before walking down the street to the next set of alleys.

Today was awfully quiet. As if all the villains decided on a mutual siesta and banned themselves from doing whatever they were up too. He rolled his eyes at the thought: As a civilian he was happy that no evil was done; as a hero it just made him so bored. As selfish as it may sound, the rest of the pros could easily agree with him. 

Even though, there was a bad aura hovering around the city, enveloping it with some unexplainable horror and a heavy feeling that something was wrong. 

But what? 

Shinsou massaged his temples, deciding to take the next alley. Soon the patrol would end and he'd get back home… Alone, with his cat, and a cup of noodles because he was too lazy to prepare dinner properly. And his TV turned on so maybe, just maybe, he'd feel less lonely. 

He hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time by now. Two years, perhaps more. Not that he cared, he didn't need anybody because he simply wasn't in love, but he wanted some company sometimes. More than his cat. Though with a lonely wolf like he was, he'd grow tired of the company pretty quick, unless… 

Suddenly something crashed a few meters ahead of him. He stirred out of his half dazed mind, frowning and pulling his mask higher on his face. His body tensed when something crashed again, making him cling to the wall. He began to move on his tippy toes, very slowly and quietly toward the source of the noise - when shots were heard. And police sirens.

Shinsou jumped out of his hiding place, facing a few very confused policemen, and two guys from his patrol. They all stared at him for a moment, guns aimed at him - and then all sighed in relief. 

"Controller!" called out one of his men, Ryu. "We thought you were the villain."

Shinsou frowned. "What happened?" 

A police officer approached him. "A criminal escaped the jail this morning. We're searching for him. His name is Kaminari Denki-" 

Shinsou's eyes went wide. He froze for a moment, trying to recall the police man's words for one moment too long. 

Kaminari is free. Was his first thought.

I need to find him before they do. Was the following thought.

Quickly he snapped back to reality, locking eyes with his sidekicks. "Go there, I'll head this direction," he pointed to the next alley, from where the sound of crashes a moment ago. 

"Yes sir!" called out the rest of the group and resumed their run. Shinsou watched them until they disappeared by the end of the street, and then his legs worked on their on. 

He began to run to where he was sure Kaminari was hiding, or at least was in general. Worry washed his body, followed by the thought of relief that the guy actually managed to escape the jail without getting caught and hopefully without hurting anybody including himself. 

One sharp turn later and he found himself standing panting in the alley, cold sweat rolled down his forehead. Slowly, unsure of what did he expect to see or find, Hitoshi made his way deeper into the dark street. He was suddenly very aware of his surroundings: The way the wind was howling outside of the alley, how they sky began to darken a bit when a huge cloud covered them. 

How his heart was pumping in his chest. 

And then, his eyes went wide and round, mouth agape as he sucked in a breath. Holy fuck. 

Chapter Text

The overwhelming smell from the alley’s dumpster really didn't help the already dank atmosphere. Flies buzzed around, annoying Shinsou with their tiny shrill buzzes, while he waved his arms, trying to make them leave him alone. 

Gross

Slowly he crouched in front of the body that was smeared across the asphalt, one arm stretched forward and the other arm was nowhere to be seen, which kind of creeped him out for a second. A messy tuft of blonde hair covered the guy's face, however there was no mistake when he noticed the black locks that formed a very prominent lighting bolt. 

Kaminari… 

He breathed out shakingly, his arms began to wrap around his shoulders. Carefully he pulled the unconscious man into his arms, making sure he didn’t hurt Kaminari anymore than he already was. It took him by surprise realizing how actually heavy Kaminari was: When he tried to gather his legs closer he huffed from the sudden heavy weight, and then decided to place the blonde gently on the floor so to not drop him or anything. 

His tired violet eyes observed the blond haired man closely, as his hand trailed down the side of the shirt when an arm was supposed to be. Only when he reached the upper side of the arm, he felt the limb underneath his fingers. In his memory, a vague conversation he had had with Mina popped up. 

Uh, right. She had told him about Kaminari's injuries after the Shigaraki Incidence but he… He forgot. Sudden heavy feeling spread in his chest as he looked down at Kaminari and swallowed a lump of nerves. Did he even had the right to worry about Kaminari now? He didn't even visit him- Well, maybe once or twice but they didn't really interact. 

Overall after high school ended they hadn't been in touch expect sometimes during patrols or meetings. They weren't close friends, or actually friends at all, so could he really be so concerned and worried about him now? When he was lying unconscious under him, his face pale and he lips parted, while heavy breathes rolled out in between them and his chest rose up and down slowly. 

Water, perhaps it was his saliva, dripped down his chin. Shinsou pressed his finger underneath it and wiped it gently. He then closed Kaminari's mouth, shaking his head. Idiot. Help him. What kind of hero you are? He scolded himself angrily, then wrapped an arm around Kaminari's ridiculous slim waist. 

Now when he thought about it, he remembered Kaminari a bit wider. Well, with everything that the poor guy had to go through he probably couldn't hold his hero form for long. But still - even with his slim form he was heavier than Shinsou expected. Slowly he pulled him up to his back, securing him with his arms. 

OK… What now? He frowned, stopping in his place. I can't go the way I went here because those idiots will be there… He chewed on his lower lip, while trying to wreck his mind to the most optimal solution. 

Of course that the best for Kaminari at the moment was to get to the hospital. He had no idea what had happened to the blonde, he just guessed it couldn't be something good. But there was no way he would bring him to the hospital when the whole city was thinking of his as a criminal that had escaped from prison. It would be a very ridiculous and reckless move from his side. 

Thus, Shinsou decided to bring him to his apartment. Mina told him that Kaminari's apartment was a complete mess, the police had turned his place upside down looking for evidence. At the moment Shinsou's apartment was the only safe place for him. Kaminari needed to rest. Shinsou would find some paramedic or doctor that he could trust to not tell the police about Denki and bring him to get checked out. Then, he'd contact Kaminari's friends and they'd take care of the blond. 

The only unsolved thing was how to get to his damn house, preferably without getting caught. Good job, Hitoshi. He huffed, feeling his arms growing a bit tired from holding Kaminari's absurdly weighty legs. 

Breath in. 

Breath out.

Let's go. 

Shinsou peered out of the alley, the sun of the late noon hit his face and made him growl in annoyance. He began to sneak slowly and cautiously towards the street where he parked his motorcycle. It wasn't too far, just a few blocks away. The problem was that it was parked in a pretty open place... And they would have to sneak through alleyways so that they wouldn't get caught. It was going to be a tough mission.


"Yes, sorry. I just felt really bad- Yes, sir. I'll take the evening patrol tomorrow. Again I'm sorry- Uh, I had a stomach ache. Probably ate something bad, felt like throwing up- No. I'll be fine by tomorrow. Yes. Good day, thank you Sir." 

Shinsou tapped his fingers on his phone, chewing on his lower lip nervously. Only when he heard the beep that told the phone call was over he let himself exhale loudly, massaging him temples. He didn't know how stressing it actually was to lie to his boss up until today, he simply never had a reason to lie. 

He glanced to the side, looking at Kaminari. The blonde was sleeping peacefully on his couch. After Shinsou placed him there and covered him with a blanket. The quiet snoring Kaminari made were kind of relaxing to listen to, but that was probably because he almost had a heart attack when one of his sidekicks almost caught them on the way to the bike. 

Listening to him sleeping on his couch meant that they had successfully completed the mission, ‘Hide Kaminari and Don't Get Caught’ but it also meant that Shinsou just now committed a crime himself; and he wasn't really sure what to think about it. 

Was helping an innocent to get away with a crime that he had never committed; was a crime? 

Could he really trust Mina that easily with it? She had no reason to lie to him about Kaminari. Heck, if Bakugou was so fired up with getting him out of jail probably Kaminari indeed was innocent but… But who could do it to him? And why? What did Kaminari do to trigger someone into falsely imprisoning him? 

Shinsou plopped on a chair in his living room, burying his head between his palms. It started to ache a bit from the swirl of thoughts attacking him. He just felt so… lost. For the first time in his life he had no idea what to do- Well, maybe not the first time, but it was how he felt anyway. 

A cough caught his attention and burst his bubble of thought. He lifted his head sharply, noticing Kaminari moving a bit. He thought the blond was going to wake up, but he only huddled into his blanket turning his head and letting out an uneasy breath. Shinsou stepped closer to him, pressing his palm to his forehead. It was cool. 

What should I do? He asked himself again, rubbing the back of his neck. After a solid minute, in which the only thing he did was to study Kaminari's features, Shinsou decided to call Mina. 

He found her contact on his phone easily enough and pressed call. He was so damn close to breaking something because instead of Ashido, he was sent to voicemail. God dammit! He took a deep breath, remembering that Mina had mentioned that she was going to the police station today. Of course that her phone would be out of range - she didn't want no one to interfere or locate her. A smart move, he was the dumbass here. 

Next try: Kirishima. He started to search for his contact, only to notice that he… Didn't have his number. He remembered talking to him a few times but he was probably too lazy to make a new contact. Shinsou was now one step closer to bursting. 

Bakugo. I have to have his fucking number. His finger was scrolling down furiously while eyes searched for the name tag Bakugo Katsuki and then - he noticed it, immediately sliding his finger on the contact and pressing the phone to his ear.  

"What the fuck do you want zombie?" Katsuki's irritated voice made Shinsou sigh in relief, despite him hating the dumb nicknames he called him since high school. 

"I need you to uh… Come over, like, right fucking now," Shinsou felt paranoid, but the thought that someone could listen to them talking on the phone suddenly gripped into him and refused to let go. Even when the more rational part of his mind told him that the chances were minimal, he still preferred not to mention Kaminari. 

Especially because he didn't know who else could be listening in.

"Why the hell should I?" 

Shinsou swallowed a lump of nerves. "There's a Pikachu on my couch."

A moment of silence. "What. The fuck." Bakugo sounded very confused. 

"You know, like, whey-" 

"I know what Pikachu is- Oh," the feeling Shinsou had when the realization hit the other pro hero was familiar to a stone falling from his chest. The relief that washed over him was relaxing in ways he couldn't find the right words to explain. "Be right there. Send me the address."

"Ok," when Bakugo ended the call Shinsou hurried the to do it, then he turned around towards the couch-

And almost had a heart attack when a pair of gold eyes were watching his. 

"Oh!" he yelped, hearing his voice cracking a bit. After clearing his throat, Shinsou lowered his tone a bit. "You're awake."

Kaminari studied him for yet another solid minute, as if he wasn't sure who he was looking at. Then he slowly looked around, tired eyes observing Shinsou's plain living room. 

It was nothing special, at least in Shinsou's opinion: a dark purple couch that fitted in its colors to the grayish walls. A few vinyls hung on the walls, from his favorite bands or just some that he thought had some cool designs. He also had a square coffee table and a TV in front of it, and that was it. He didn't really tried to make to living room look presentable. 

"Uh…" Kaminari breathed out, then coughed into his palm, eyes narrowed. "Where… Am I?" whispered, his voice thin and tired. 

"My apartment," Shinsou fiddled with his phone in his fingers, not really sure how to approach him. "I found you unconscious in an alley, the police was chasing after you so I picked you up and hid here."

Kaminari lowered his head, lifting his only arm to rub his eyes. "Ugh... Sorry, can I please have an aspirin? My head's killing me," he mumbled, leaning on his side on the couch. 

Shinsou nodded. "Sure. gimme a sec."

His feet led him to the kitchen, but the moment he was out of Kaminari’s sight he stumbled and had to place his arms on the kitchen table so as not to fall. One of his hands wiped cold sweat from his forehead and he breathed in, forcing air down his lungs. Kaminari had never had an aura that terrifying and sad. He felt that he was choking on something from only standing near him. The usual dumb smile on his face was gone, he looked miserable, drained, and exhausted.

This wasn’t the Kaminari, the Chargebolt, he used to know.

After calming himself down he walked back to his blonde guest, with a cup of cool water and a single pill. He gave it to Kaminari, who drank it all in one gulp, some water even spilling from his mouth. Shinsou watched him carefully, and when Kaminari stretched his arm to try and put the cup on the table, but couldn’t reach, he immediately helped him. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.”

Kaminari wiped his mouth, while awkward silence spread between them.

“So uh…” Kaminari, of course, was the first one to break it. It eased Shinsou a bit. “You found me unconscious in an alley,” he repeated Shinsou’s words, receiving a nod from the other man.

“How did you find me?”

“The news about you breaking out of prison has spread like a wildfire, the whole fucking city is chasing after you.”

Denki snorted. “Cool.”

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, “Mind maybe explaining a thing or two?”

“Ask away.”

Shinsou let out a breath. “How the hell did you even end up in this mess?”

It took the electric user a moment before he finally answered. “They thought that I broke into an apartment and stole something. They funny thing is it was my goddamn apartment.”

"Yeah… I heard something like that from Mina,” once again, a disturbing silence spread through the room. “They’ve been worried about you. They keep trying to convince the police to let you go. I called Bakugo, he’ll be here soon.”

Kaminari sighed. “Sorry, I’m probably a burden to you.”

“A bit, but I don’t mind,” shrugged Shinsou. When he noticed a smile and heard a chuckle rolling from Kaminari’s pale lips, a weird warmth spread in his chest. Was he really that worried about him?

“I really don’t wanna bother you more, but I have no place to go to. They took my apartement and…uh…” Kaminari trailed off. Shinsou narrowed his eyes, noticing the sudden uneasiness in Kaminari’s body language. Was he hiding something? Could it be that there was more to this story? “Never mind.”

Shinsou hesitated before answering. “You can stay here for tonight, if Bakugo wouldn't take you to his place or something,” the blonde nodded. “Though, I’m not sure that it’s a good idea to let you out for now.”

“Probably not.”

Shinsou breathed out too loudly. “Are you hungry?” he received a nod from Kaminari. “What would you like to eat? I suck at cooking so I’ll just order us something.”

“Anything’s better than prison food, so whatever you want.” 

“Ok,” Shinsou glanced at his phone, noticing a new message from Bakugo, saying that he would be there in a moment and that he was with Kirishima. Not that he expected anything else, honestly.

However, the sudden knock on the door was something he didn’t expect.

He noticed how Kaminari strained in his place, eyes darting to the door. “Is it Blast- I mean, Bakugo?”

“No…” Shinsou turned to look at the door. Another knock was heard. He tucked the phone back to his pocket and approached the door, pressing to open the front camera. In front of him appeared two men, wearing black suits. They weren’t police officers for sure, and he couldn’t recognize the tugs on their chests. 

“Were you waiting for someone else?” squeaked Kaminari. He sounded so nervous, as if he was about to puke.

“Not that I remember,” Shinsou whispered. “Who's there?” he called in a louder voice.

No answer. The men on the camera exchanged looks before knocking again. This time, more aggressively. 

“I’m not opening the door until you don’t tell who the fuck are you,” demanded Shinsou.

“Sh-shinsou-”

“Wait, stay still,” hissed at him, hearing another whack on the door. It made the door tremble for a moment. “Fucking tell me who you are or I’m calling the police!” the threats were useless but perhaps it would work. If they didn’t know that the police were useless, that is to say. 

“Shinsou!”

He turned his head sharply towards Kaminari. “What?!” this situation was really getting on his nerves. 

His eyes gone round when Kaminari was darting towards him and bumping into his body, making both of them fall. “What the fuck?!” he yelled - and then a bullet crashed through to window, aiming right to the place Shinsou was standing a moment ago. His head hit the floor as Kaminari’s weight smeared about him. He growled, the pain exploded on the back of his skull, eyes closing for a moment.

“We gotta get out of here!”

“Wanna tell me something else that I didn’t know?!”

“I think they’re the dudes that attacked me then!” Kaminari hopped off him and helped him stand up. The metallic sound his legs made when he hit the ground made Shinsou glance then in concern for a moment, before the blonde was already dragging him to the side faster then he would expect him to be able to.

As if it on cue, his front door burst open, the two men crashed inside of his house. One swung his arms, which caused the floor underneath their legs tremble and two huge metal rods jumped out from the floor and sent it their way, Shinsou’s eyes widened.

Out of instinct he pushed Kaminari to the corridor leading to the balcony, his legs began to run too after the blonde. “What do they want?!” he screamed, trying to sound louder than the crashing sounds around them.

“I have no fucking idea!” yelled Kaminari back, bursting into the balcony. Both of them stopped at the edge, looking back. “Jump on my back!”

“What?!”

“Do it!”

Shinsou really didn’t know if he could trust Denki, but the yell from behind telling them to stop in their place by one of the men didn’t sound appealing, so he didn’t really have an option. He hopped on Kaminari’s back, surprised that his legs didn’t stumble, wrapping his arms around his not-so-wide shoulders. Kaminari was too small for him to sit properly but there was no time to voice it out - because the next moment, the blonde had already jumped out of his balcony.

The initial scream Shinsou had was probably very loud, if he had ever vocalized it, but he didn’t because he just wasn’t the type of person to scream aloud. He gripped harder on Kaminari, forcing himself to not shut his eyes as they were falling. Kaminari strained his legs - and they crashed into the wall of the building next to Shinsou’s, making holes where it absorbered the hit. 

Now his eyes were absolutely round, mouth agape and a total confusion swallowed all logical and illogical part of his mind. He could expect if from Deku, Red Riot; but Kaminari?

They slid down in awfully fast speed, thought Kaminari pressed all of his body weight trying to stop it. Shinsou didn’t wait another moment - He grabbed the cloth wrapped around his neck and swung it up, until it wrapped around a protruding pole from one of the balconies in the building, stopping their movement. Only when they stopped did he notice how heavy Kaminari and he were panting, and that his nails dig through the terrible orange garment that Kaminari was wearing to the point of blood spots were formed there.

“D-dude…”

“Sorry,” breathed out Shinsou, letting go of him. He looked down, and after seeing that there was not much left until they reached the ground, he hopped off Kaminari’s back and leaned on his feet. Then he stretched his arms forward and caught Kaminari - and both crashed to the floor. Once again he forgot that Kaminari was heavier than expected.

“Ouch,” winced Kaminari, rolling off of Shinsou. “Jesus-”

“We could have died!” suddenly burst Shinsou, sitting up.

Kaminari bit his lower lip. “But we didn’t,” he blurted out. Well, this sounded more like Kaminari but Shinsou was still mad.

“It was so fucking reckless. What if your legs broke?!”

Kaminari snorted. “I don’t think so,” he pointed to the building. Shinsou looked up, his eyes widen again to the trail of the broken wall formed there from Kaminari's feet.

“How-” he breathed out.

“I have bionic limbs. Didn’t you know?” Kaminari tilted his head.

Shinsou blinked, and was about to answer - when then sounds of sirens caught his attention.

“Fuck,” he noticed Kaminari’s face turning pale. “Let’s go, we’ll talk later.” he grabbed Kaminari’s wrist, pulling him aggressively to a standing position - and both men began running away from their chasers.

Whoever they were.

Chapter Text

His heart throbbed. 

A string of pain bloomed from his chest, the roots of it running through his whole upper body and if he wasn't running for his life - he probably would’ve curled into a ball and given into the pain. It drummed in his chest painfully, as a friendly reminder that he didn't have a lot of time. But he had to keep running, and had to ignore the constant pain.

“Don’t slow down!” 

The bark distracted Kaminari from the burning feeling inside of him. He wanted to grab onto it and massage the place with his fingers but he couldn’t - Shinsou was holding his wrist and dragging the blond after him. And well, his second arm was still back in the... Wherever.  

The sirens roared in his ears. The sounds of their chasers footsteps burst his skull in arrows of rapid thoughts, that were trying to figure out what to do. Especially now, when it turned out that not only were the police after him. 

Those men in black suits had to be the villains responsible for the attack on his house. But he wasn't sure; that was to say he had no proof. Not that he had a proof to anything against the mess he somehow found himself stuck in, but that’s a story for another day. 

Today he just had to survive. 

“Let’s-” a sudden stab of pain hit his chest, making him almost trip. “Let’s split up!” He called, knowing damn well that the chasers would leave Shinsou alone at the moment he would separate himself from Denki. No one else needed to get hurt because of him being stupid enough to let all of this happen to him-

Shinsou’s nails raked  into his wrist. It was almost painful. 

“I know that you’re a fucking dumbass but I didn’t know you were THIS dumb!” he yelled at him furiously, then suddenly turned to the side. 

Both men slid into an alley, however they didn’t stop running. Kaminari refused to answer Shinsou, because he had an answer, but he knew what his Shinsou’s response would be and they had zero time nor strength for arguing. Or at least he didn’t, he had no idea how tired Shinsou was. After all the dude looked like a zombie 99% of the time. No offense. 

His heart throbbed again. It couldn’t be a good sign. 

They burst out of the alley to a side street, that was usually empty at this time of the day. The sky darkened, the sun lulling itself  to sleep over the horizon. Long shadows casted from the building and trees surrounding them, as their own shadows grew longer, more massive on the asphalt beneath their feet. 

The alleyway curled at the end of the block, leaving them only an option to turn left or right. It was another narrow alley, one that you wouldn’t want to bypass at night hours. However, it didn’t matter for the galloping man. In any case, the only thing Kaminari paid attention to, was the distaning roar of the sirens, that became more and more muffled as they ran.

And then, Shinsou abruptly turned to a side road, and for a moment everything went blank. 

There was a sound of an engine purring, and the smell of burnt rubber invaded his nostrils. Kaminari threw his head aside sharply, his first instinct was to dodge the car rushing their way - but the car was faster. His eyes went round as he realized it was about to hit Shinsou. tremor taking over his body. 

Without thinking, Kaminari swung his right leg and kicked the front of the car, releasing all the strength he could into the blust. The tires roared louder as the car was pushed a few inches away, the two guys freezing as the shock slowly hit them. Kaminari’s consciousness permeated the fact that they had almost died twice in the last five minutes; which was slightly way more than he personally thought was necessary. 

“Fucking hell!” 

Kaminari breathed out. Did I just-

“You stupid ass bitch!” The door burst open as a man marched out of the car, a muscular and toned body with a beautiful face of the devil itself. Anger spilled out of him as if it was a tsunami waves, completely taking over Kaminari who froze in his place: Eyes wide, mouth agape, breath stuck in his throat. “I swear to fucking God that I-”

And then, Bakugo froze too. 

Both blondes stared at each other for a solid minute. Kaminari didn’t know what to say, should he apologize for breaking Katsuki’s car or should he burst into tears of happiness because somehow seeing his massive, explosive friend made him feel safe for the first time in a few days. 

“Dunce face,” breathed out Bakugo. “You- How- I mean…” Crimson eyes darted at Shinsou, for a moment sliding down before looking back at Kaminari. The other blond also looked down, noticing that Shinsou was still holding his wrist. Probably Shinsou noticed it too, because he let go after Kaminari looked back at the explosive pro hero. 

“I’m sorry,” squeaked Denki, his voice trembled and cracked because the urge to cry ugly tears just grew stronger. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for. 

“Ugh,” Katsuki groaned. 

“Okay, I know that both of you are thrilled from this big reunion but can we please run before those fuckers will find us again?” Shinsou’s words cut the tense atmosphere like a knife, bringing Kaminari back to reality. 

Bakugo blinked, before looking at his car. Kaminari also glanced at it, observing the damage done. He felt relieved when he saw that only the bumper suffered from the hit: It folded in with a few cracks stretching atop. Nothing that seemed too serious. He still felt guilty about it, perhaps it was better to think before doing something like that. 

"Jump in,” commanded Bakugou. None of them argued. 

In a matter of three seconds, the three man slid into the car. Katsuki slammed the gas pedal, the car roared as if it hadn’t suffered a brutal kick from a bionic leg, and burst into the road in loud, agitated shrieks. 

A heavy breath escaped Denki’s chapped lips, as his arm grabbed onto his chest and tugged at it. It was painful, his heart was racing and aching. The pain itself was formed in waves, which could only mean one thing: he had to take his medication before his heart would stop beating again - because the doctors couldn’t do anything better than this, because he couldn’t afford anything better than this; because it was the only thing that kept his body alive despite him feeling like a deadman-

“Oi, Kaminari!” a pair of fingers clicked in front of his face. 

Kaminari strained, as much as he could, blinking. “Y-yeah?” his voice was still shaking. 

“Are you- Are you alright?” Shinsou sounded a bit hesitant. 

Kaminari swallowed the words coming out of his throat, only letting the famous lie escape and form a sentence that made sense: “I’m fine.”

“You sound like you’re about to have a fucking panic attack,” commented Katsuki, who had slowed down the car as they got farther away. 

“Rest assured, he looks like it, too.” Shinsou observed him in concern as he said it. 

“W-well, guess It happens when some crazy dudes are trying to- to fucking murder you for no goddamn reason .” 

His eyes darted from Bakugo’s back to Shinsou’s violet orbs, while he forced his arm to let go of his shirt. He pushed himself up, resting his head on the sit. “Fuck…”

Silence spread in the car, letting Kaminari arrange his thoughts. As much as he could, that is. He was feeling as if a truck ran over him twice; the exhalation, heaviness of his body and the annoying hunger weren’t helping. As some karma, his stomach decided to grumble exasperatedly. It made a painful twist, as if sinking into his spine. 

He felt nauseous. 

This time he let his arm cover his lower midsection, eyes squeezed shut. Something popped in his ears when he swallowed. Exhaustion rubbed off his face, heart thudding against his ribcage. Eventually, it begun dropping to a normal heartbeat, letting his sore muscles finally relax. 

“What were you running from?” Bakugo’s voice broke the silence, however it sounded gentle. Kaminari never heard him talking like that to anyone except Kirishima. 

“As Kaminari said, some crazy fuckers,” answered Shinsou, crossing his arms on his chest. “I’m not sure what they wanted, but Kaminari said that they probably are the one that tried to break into his apartment-” 

“No one broke into no one’s apartment,” grumbled Denki, finding the last will power to at least speak. “Someone tried to shoot me dead from my living room window.”

“Why the fuck?” The car stopped at a red light, Bakugo tapped nervously on the wheel with his fingers. 

“I have no fucking idea-” Kaminari trailed off, frowning. In his mind, he recalled the events before the attack, searching for an answer what could actually trigger it. The letter popped up, followed by vague memories of the man that passed away next to him, the one who gave him the letter; then, he read the letter and called the police.

Denki swallowed down a lump of nerves, tremor taking over his body and pressure pressing on his skull. If he hadn’t called the police then-

Then ...

Then what? 

Nothing. 

Kaminari shook his head. Dwelling in the past wasn’t something heroes did. 

Huh? He blinked in surprise. Did he just think like he used to when he was a hero? Was his body asking for his former self to come back that badly? If he hadn’t been chased a few minutes ago, he probably would have chuckled at the thought. 

“A three-years-old can explain better than you two, fucking nutheads. Better explain this shit when you calm down,” announced Bakugo, resuming the ride. The car rolled down the street, he took a turn to a way leading to his and Kirishima's house; and honestly Kaminari didn't know if that was a good idea, though he was too tired to argue. 

“But first we need to feed him and let him rest,” Hitoshi leaned forward, looking at the road.     

“Didn’t you say Kirishima was with you?” Suddenly asked. Kaminari glanced at him in confusion. 

“He was supposed to come but he had an emergency call, so I told him to fuck off and that he’ll be able to meet Kaminari after that," shrugged Katsuki. 

“Oh,” Shinsou nodded. “Anyway, do you have food there or do we need to buy it?” 

“I’ll cook you something if there’s nothing to eat.”

“I feel honored,” snickered Denki. Katsuki’s food was always comforting. 

“You’d better,” grumbled Bakugo, as the car slowed down again and stopped in front of a big building. 

Kaminari looked at the massive place. It hadn’t changed since the last time he visited them. The only thing that HAD changed was him. 

They entered into the lobby, both Shinsou and Bakugo screened Kaminari behind their buffed bodies. The lights were so strong, Kaminari felt he’d go blind if he wouldn’t look somewhere that was a darker place. The smell of expensive perfume floated in the air, or perhaps cologne, or both. It was better than the smell of prison for sure. 

“Good evening, Bakugou-san,” the secretary smiled at them. Bakugo and Shinsou stood so close to each other that Kaminari could barely see past them, but he managed to steal a glance, noticing a tuft of white hair, gathered in a bun on the woman’s head. 

“Good evening,” muttered back, leading them to the corridor in which the elevator was. The moment they were out of sight they let out a breath, relaxing a bit. “Jesus,” geunted the blond, taking out his keys to call the elevator here. 

“We can’t risk anyone seeing him,” whispered Shinsou. 

“Oh, really?” deadpanned Bakugo. 

Kaminari felt like a true criminal hearing those words, and he really didn’t like it. 


Kaminari jolted awake, gasping for air as cold sweat covered his forehead. His head bumped harshly into something, and string of pain exploded in his forehead and he winced in pain, rolling to the side and curling into a ball as the pain throbbed in his head. His palm covering the bump to-be, eyes squeezed shut and for a moment his mind was blank, taking in the itching feeling. A whimper left his lips.

“Dude!” roared someone for the side. Denki glanced up, his gold eyes meeting a pair of red ones that were staring at him in concern. “I’m so sorry I didn’t think that you’d jump like that-”

“Kirishima!” cried out Kaminari, without thinking he leapt at his friend, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and burying his head into the socket between his shoulder and neck. Kirishima gasped in surprise and caught him before both fell, wrapping his muscular arms around the smaller males waist. Then he let out a chuckle, nuzzling a bit with his nose into Kaminari’s neck, patting his back with his massive palm.

“I missed you too, man. I’m so happy that you managed to escape!” he exclaimed, they tore apart, hug ending too soon. “But God you look awful,” he mumbled as his eyes ran up and down Kaminari’s beat up, tired and slouching frame. All Kaminari could respond with was a desperate chuckle, because he wasn’t wrong. He also felt awful. “What did they do to you? God, I’m so mad. How could they? Oh my God.” 

Kaminari was crashed in another rib-crushing embrace. The red head squeezed him rightly, not letting him enough space to free his only arm and hug him back. “A lot of happened,” he whispered.

“Katsu told me that you passed out the moment you sat on the couch, so they decided to let you sleep,” informed his Kirishima. Well, that explained how he found himself on the couch. When he thought about it, he didn’t even remember entering Katsuki’s house… Probably he was so tired that his mind shut off when they stepped into the elevator because that was the last thing he remembered properly. 

He was about to nod, when suddenly he noticed the rays of light pouring out of the big window in the couple's living room. They stretched at length on the floor and lay on their faces, almost making his friend's eyes glow under the light. He stared at him for a few moments, noticing that he was shirtless, wearing green sweatpants and his hair was slack and scruffy over his shoulders. Kirishima looked like someone who had just woken up, and that had greatly confused Kaminari. Didn’t Katsuki say Kirishima was at work? What was he doing here, looking all domestic and comfortable?

A nice smell of omletrice and something else he couldn’t tug a name to hit his nostrils, making his sniff a little bit louder than he wanted to; and his stomach rumble as a reminder that he was starving, because even it couldn’t remember what and when was his last proper meal since two nights ago-

Or maybe more? “What time is it?” he blurted out. “How long have I been sleeping…?”

“Well, Katsu said you were here at around six. now is nine in the morning.”

Kaminari’s jaw dropped. “What?!” I slept for fucking half a day, what the fuck. 

“Food is almost ready,” a familiar voice echoed in Kaminari’s ears, making him look up at Shinsou who entered the living room. “You should wake him up- Oh, he’s awake,” Shinsou shot Kaminari a glance, nodding in acknowledgment. He was also wearing sweats, gray ones, also shirtless. His hair was an even bigger mess than usual, he himself looking like someone who had just woken up.

Now, Kaminari was utterly, absolutely, without any shadow of a doubt - confused.

Wait- Kaminari was too part of the shirtless gang. “Um-” he cleared his throat, noticing that he was dressed in sweatpants that were probably once size too large. “Thanks for the… Clothes…?” half asked, half said, unsure.

“No problem. You were so stinky but we didn’t want to wake you up, though I did change your clothes. If you want a shirt,” Kirishima pointed at the coffee table in front of the couch, on which lay a folded shirt with the words GO BEYOND PLUS ULTRA printed on it. Kaminari snorted. 

“Oh my God, it’s from our graduation.”

Kirishima giggled. “Yeah, it was the only shirt that wouldn’t look like a dress on you. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” he was grateful that they let him sleep here, let alone giving him clothes and feeding him. They were the best friends he could have asked for. “But can I…. Uh, shower?”

“Sure,” smiled Kirishima. “Do you need help?” he hesitated, eyes glancing at his legs. “I mean… Can you put it under water?”

Kaminari sniffed. “Technically, I shouldn’t. But I was already swimming yesterday when I escaped from prison so I don't think I can destroy them anymore,” he shrugged.

“How do you even shower with them?” asked Kirishima.

“What are you talking about?” Shinsou interrupted them. Kaminari almost forgot that he was there too. He lifted his legs, so Shinsou could see his feet.

“I don’t have legs,” it was a weird way to put it but he had no strength to give him proper explanation, maybe next time. 

“Oh okay- wait, did you say swimming?”

Kaminari blinked. “Maybe?”

“Don’t fucking maybe me, did you jumped into the fucking sea?!”

Kaminari blinked again. “Yeah?”

Shinsou squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You have five fucking minutes to shower.”

Not wasting any spare moment, Denki jumped on his legs, saluting to Shinsou. “Yes sir, be ready in five minutes.”


The door into the shower opened the moment Kaminari pulled the pants Kirishima gave him on his waist (after a hell lot of struggling, because doing it with one arm was very hard). He jumped in surprise, noticing that it was Shinsou who peered inside. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" he pouted, feeling a lot better after taking a shower. 

"Wanted to check out if you're alive," shrugged Shinsou, stepping him. “You need help?" he asked, glancing at the shirt Kaminari had already grabbed. 

Denki huffed. "Please."

The curl of a smirk that was formed on Shinsou's lips for a brief moment made Kaminari think that he was very amused by looking at him struggling to dress up with one arm. However, none of them commented anything on the matter. 

"They let you stay here too, I guess?" 

"Aha. I don't think it's safe for me to go back to my apartment now too." 

Kaminari snorted. "Welcome to the club."

Shinsou rolled his eyes as he stretched the shirt on Kaminari’s upper body. His hands were warm. “You always looked young, but with this shirt you look like a fucking high schooler.”

“Thanks. That means when you’re all old and wrinkly I’ll be looking like I’m forty,” Kaminari’s stomach reminded him even louder that he was hungry. A blush covered his cheeks. “O-Ok, let’s go eat something, I’m starving.”

Shinsou only nodded. Kaminari felt a bit uncomfortable as he followed Shinsou to the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he was here, but for the first time Shinsou was here too. They weren’t even friends in high school, so it felt weird that out of all people who could have helped him it was Shinsou. It felt a bit surreal, everything that had happened. Should he really be surprised by anything at this point?

“Finally you’re here,” scowled Katsuki, receiving an elbow from Eijirou.

“Sit wherever you like,” the redhead smiled. Kaminari smiled back at him, sitting at the closest chair with a plate in front of him. A big omelet rice was on it, with some vegetables and a cup of fresh coffee.

“Thanks for the food,” his first instinct was to slightly clap his hands as the rest of the table did, but it was a bit impossible without one arm.

“Will you be able to even eat?” asked Kirishima, who already dug in into his plate.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Not my first time,” Denki reminded, lifting the chopsticks and tearing them apart with his mouth. Then, still holding one of them with it, he placed the second one beneath it until he got a good hold on it, and dug in. “This is so good!” he cried out, feeling the tears swallow in his eyes. He hadn’t had good food for too long (three days).

Bakugo muttered something under his breath, but Kaminari was too busy munching like a hamster on his food. 

“Slow down,” he suddenly heard Shinsou, who was sitting next to him. “You’ll choke.”

Denki swallowed. “Sounds like a good idea.”

“Please don’t-” breathed out Kirishima.

"I mean,” Denki stared at the cup of coffee, trailing off. “Jesus, can I have a straw? I just really don’t want to do the whole procedure with the chopsticks each time I wanna drink.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Eijirou hurried to stand up, rushing to bring him a straw.

Bakugo glanced at him. “Where did you lose your goddamn arm?”

“The police took it.”

Shinsou choked. “What the fuck?”

Kaminari sighed, looking down at his plate. Suddenly, his appetite disappeared, but he forced in another bite. “Guys… A lot of stuff has happened. Actually, I don’t know from where to start…” mumbled. Kirishima placed the straw in his cup and moved it closer to him. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” they all watched as Denki took a sip. “Start from the beginning, I guess. You need to explain so we’ll know how to help you.”

Kaminari opened his mouth. “And don’t say shit like: you don’t need to; or any other nonsense you’re thinking.” Bakugo cut him.

It actually made Denki smile. “Ok.” he breathed in. “Remember that we went to the club on Saturday night?” he started, his knees rubbing one onto each other in uneasiness. Bakugo and Kirishima nodded. “Well, after we split up, I took a shortcut to my building. It was somewhere around 1 am when suddenly some weirdo collapsed near me and fucking died. He looked like someone was chasing him and gave me a letter, telling me to not give it to them; whoever they are, and then he died. Anyway, a moment later came Midoriya-” he didn’t miss the way Bakugo frowned, “-who turned out was the one chasing him. He said it’s some hero stuff and then before he let me go he asked if the man had given me anything…” his voice trailed off. Should he tell them everything? 

“And?” asked Kirishima after a moment of silence.

Kaminari slapped himself. Yes. He had to tell them the whole truth. They were his friends and wanted to help him. 

“Let me guess,” Shinsou spoke before him, “You didn’t give him the letter.”

Shame washed over Denki as he nodded.

Bakugo snorted. “I would’ve done the same-”

“Katsuki.”

“Then I returned home and read the letter,” continued Denki, swallowing a lump of nerves. “Someone named E wrote it to Professor Ryo Hanazaki, it’s the man who started my Physiotherapy and got me a prescription for medication. He was also my surgeon. Anyway, I don’t remember exactly what was written in the letter but…” slowly, he lifted his eyes, locking them with Kirishima’s, “As from what I understood, for this whole year and a half, I was just a test subject.”

Chapter Text

The tension was so thick, that even the sharpest blade known to man wouldn’t be able to cut it.    

"What do you… Mean?" breathed out Shinsou, wearing a very confused expression. Bakugo glared at him as usual, though he wrinkled his nose - which meant he was concerned. Kirishima seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes round and face pale. It seemed that he would drop the chopsticks at any moment. And honestly Kaminari felt that, he guessed that his own face looked familiar when he first read the letter. 

His heart ached again and he fought the urge to shrunk; it also began beating rapidly in his chest, thump thump thump , so strong that he felt everyone around the room could hear it, could sense that he was tense and uncomfortable. Probably scared, too. From the unknown, from those events that didn't happen but would. From the realization that he had no idea what was going on inside of his body. 

Was the medication they gave him crumbling his body slowly apart? Was he on the verge of rotting? Fear took over as his mind went messy, fuzzy, yet blank. Up until now he didn't have the time to worry about it, to weigh carefully whatever was written there and actually digest and convert the information into something he could think about. 

He wasn't sure honestly what to think. Was he even correct, thinking that he was a test subject? What for? Why him? Because of the incident? Was there more heroes that were in the same place as he was and were used for science? Was it even legally done? So many questions, and absolutely zero answers. 

The only thing he was sure about at the moment was that he needed his medication, or else he wouldn't be able to survive. His body wouldn't function. They had already drugged; ruined him. What could he do against it? Probably nothing, not when his body was so used to it by now. He felt as if it wasn't his body anymore, that he was some doll that scientists enjoyed playing with. 

A lump of tears choked his throat. He didn't want to be that way. His old self would be disgusted by the current Kaminari Denki; because he was a failure. He was someone he never wanted to be. As a kid, a teenager, he always looked at the handicapped people (you know, those who were always left behind, laughed at, differentiated and repressed by the society) and pitied them. Thought to himself: How did they manage to live that way? 

Now he was one of them.  

"Okay, let's get things straight," Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're a test subject, and now some fucks are chasing you? I don't get it. It doesn't make sense. What the fuck Pikachu, how the fuck did you even manage to get into this fucking mess?"

Denki shrugged. 

"Where’s the letter?" Shinsou asked after a moment of silence. 

Kaminari sighed heavily. "At my place."

"Well that's not good," he rubbed his chin, "We need to get it."

"But how?" 

"I don't think that your house is still occupied," said Bakugo, "we can probably sneak in."

Kaminari bit his lower lip. Anyway, I need to go to my house. My meds are there. He breathed out, feeling another string of pain tickling his chest. He took another sip of his coffee, thought with his ill heart it was probably not a good idea to spoil his body with caffeine. Welp. Too late. Kaminari lost his appetite again. 

"They’ve seen my and Kaminari's faces," Shinsou mulled aloud. "I don't wanna risk it by getting there. I mean, I need to get my stuff if I wanna fight properly, Kaminari can't fight- right?" he shot him a questioning glance. 

Kaminari's mouth felt dry. "More or less," He didn't want to fight, because he knew that he actually could. 

"Then I'll have to distract them." Katsuki shrugged. "Dunce face and I will go there. Eiji and you will go get your equipment and uh," his crimson eyes observed the place where a normal human being, who wasn't Denki, would have an arm. "Somehow we'll need to get you an arm."

"We can go to I.G.S.I and ask Hatsume. She has some spare limbs for me," Kaminari assured them. Anyway, he needed to get there and ask her what to do with his heart, he was afraid that with all of the pressure he was under, no matter wherever he took the medication or not, his heart just wouldn't be able to take it at some point. And honestly, he didn't plan on dying anytime soon. 

Katsuki nodded. "Then it's settled," he stood up, taking his now empty plate and mug. "We're going. You have fifteen minutes to get ready."


"Why are you breathing like that?" 

Kaminari forced his hazy mind to drag itself back to reality before it'd dozed off completely. He swallowed the dry saliva in his mouth, the itchy feeling in his chest made it hard for him to answer immediately; and to breathe like a normal human being, apparently. His lungs felt as if they had diminished into two tiny beans, unable to hold enough oxygen to fill his entire body. 

And come on, his body wasn't that big. 

"I'm just-" he took a deep breath. "I don't know, maybe nerves," His belly ached too; the pain came and went in waves, washing over him, disappearing and coming back just as strong as the last one, it was making him feel nauseous and sick. 

"Hm," hummed Katsuki, turning the car to a street which lead to Kaminari's house. At this hour of the day, the side streets of Mustafu were empty, with only one person walking them. It was good, because Kaminari didn't know what to expect from their visit in his house. "We're almost there."

"Yeah," another heavy breath. 

The car stopped a few inches away from the building he was leaving, behind a black track. Katsuki still the motor, his fingers crossed around the steering wheel; as he shifted uncomfortably. "Something isn't right," he whispered. "That goddamn truck isn’t normal. We gotta be careful." 

Kaminari nodded and opened the door. He took a mouth mask Kirishima gave him and wore on, and then put on the hoodie of his sweatshirt. Katsuki did it too, but without a mask. 

They began walking slowly toward the building, and the next moment Kaminari's heart sunk. The building was completely occupied. 

Guards wearing wired black uniforms were marching with loaded guns hanging from their belts; their faces covered with black helmets. Big, white letters formed the word E-TECH , whatever it was supposed to be. They patrolled around the building, all of the windows were closed and shut tightly from the outside world. Kaminari's heart throbbed. What have I done…? 

The guilt bubbled in his chest, it was heavy: As if bricks were put inside of him and tried to push him down, letting the earth devour him. Because of him, all of his neighbors were suffering from some weirdos that tried to catch him. It wasn't fair, it wasn't supposed to be that way. He wanted to end it, however he didn't know how. 

"This is worse than I thought," informed Katsuki, both of the men hiding behind a wall of a side alley. "Okay, I’ll distract them and while I’m doing that you’ll sneak into your apartment and find whatever you need. Then, we buzz the fuck off."

Denki nodded in agreement. Katsuki closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. It was noticeable, how his wide shoulders relaxed and heartbeat stabilized - he was ready to attack. Without wasting another moment, Katsuki let out the loudest battle roar he could manage, making all of the guards strain in their places in surprise as his explosions pushed him in the air. 

The smoke hit Kaminari's nostrils, making him choke on it until it melted into the air. The fire danced around Bakugo's body as he landed on the ground, swung his leg and kicked the closest guard to him. Then he shoved his exploding palm into the face of another one, making him cry in pain. "Die!" 

How did I know he was gonna do that? Kaminari snorted, sneaking behind the wall of smoke that enveloped the place in its wide range. He followed the familiar path to the lobby of the building, hearing in the background explosions, screaming, cursing and something that among the lines sounded like: 'shove your guns to your asshols you fucking retards and use your quirks on me' but he wasn't sure he heard it correctly. Not that he had the time to check it out. 

Kaminari noticed two tensed guards that stood back to back in front do the door, calling out for their allies and trying to lookout for the enemy. He spread his fingers, electrical currents cracked between them as he came closer-

And then he stumbled on someone who was kicked right under his feet. 

Fuck- His metal knee hitting the ground didn't make the most delicate sound known to mankind. 

"Who's there?!" 

Kaminari didn't really think what was he doing, but the next moment he zapped the first guard to approach him. The man winced in pain but before he could do anything, Kaminari darted forward and knocked him out. A wave of smoke covered the place again, as the only thing tearing apart between him and the second guard. 

"Come back here fucker!" cried out the second man. 

Kaminari's legs found themselves running into the building before he had the time to process the strings of something that caught his forehead. He huffed and pushed forward, trying to break free from whatever was holding him back. It scratched his skin, opening fresh cuts. Blood dripped down his nose, to the mask, as Kaminari breathed out and let out a wave of electricity from him. 

The man yelled and that thing holding him loosened. He stumbled forward and broke into running, darting to the stairs. "Stop right there!!!" he didn't look back and just ran up to the third floor, to his apartment. The smoke came into the building, the ashes were taken up and down by the wind and blows from outside. 

Doors opened and shut a moment later, confused eyes of children and scared eyes of adults caught his and he had to tear his eyes away because he couldn't look. When he saw his door he swung his leg and broke it, making the door fly back and bump harshly into the wall behind. 

Okay okay okay. His breath wasn't stable, heart beating so fast he almost felt it exploding out of his chest. Kaminari ran to the living room, eyes searching for the letter but-

But it wasn't there. 

Kaminari looked around himself, trying to think where could it be. Perhaps they took it. If so, they were too late. It was all in vain, his friends were going to be disappointed in him because he couldn't do anything right. The pain exploded in his chest as his breath grew faster and heavier, Kaminari shrunk in place and gripped into his chest. 

The medication. 

Somehow he gathered the needed amount of energy to shuffle into his bedroom. It was an absolute mess. Whoever was here, tried to find something in his bedroom. He didn't know if the man failed or succeeded  but he succeeded in making his room look as if a hurricane gave it a visit. 

Kaminari opened the drawer in which were his medicine, fingers shuffling through the containers, boxes, palettes and endless amount of any pill you could think of. However, he was searching for a specific one. And he'd better find in now because the floor was dancing under his feet and the walls were bouncing from side to side; and he was pretty sure that he didn't drink. 

Sweat mixed with blood dripped down his face. His body trembled a bit, and if it wasn't for his metal limbs balancing him - he would have probably fall by now. 

His eyes caught a blue plastic packet and lit up immediately. Bingo! He shoved it into his pocket, then beginning to search for the second and third packets of pills he needed - when suddenly the door next to him crashed to the floor.. 

The blonde froze, his fingers wrapping around one of the remaining pills he had to grab. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head; acting as if he didn't look, he wouldn't see anything nor anyone. His eyes went round, when he spotted a familiar green tuft of hair, and those calming, green eyes. The only thing was, that as for the current moment, he felt all of his inner organs flip at the sight of The Symbol of Peace. 

He wasn't supposed to feel like criminal, was he? It was his house, his medicine, his right to be here-

"Kaminari!" exclaimed Midoriya looking rather surprised to see him here. "You're alive!" 

What. Kaminari breathed out shakily. "S-surprise?" wow I'm an idiot. 

Midoriya smiled widely, and for some reason Kaminari wanted to curl up in a ball and puke all over himself, instead of looking at the hero.

Deku passed the few inches between them in three huge steps that felt like they made the ground shake, like an earthquake. Kaminari didn't know why, he couldn't understand, his legs just moved back on their own as he pushed the packet of pills into his pocket. Sweat rolled down his neck, back, palm, everywhere . He was scared, so scared that his legs almost gave out. 

He stumbled on the table and almost tripped, catching and balancing himself at the last second. The green haired hero frowned. "Why are you moving away?" he reached out and grabbed Kaminari's wrist. 

Kaminari choked on his own tongue. 

"You need to come with me," said Izuku, observing him. 

"No." blurted out Kaminari. He wanted to free his wrist but couldn't. Midoriya's grip tightened, and that sent shivers running down his spine. 

"Why? You need a place to stay, right?" 

"Let go."

"Kaminari, I don't understand-" 

Something cracked between Kaminari's fingers. The next moment Midoriya yelped in surprise and jumped back as he was zapped by Kaminari. 

"What the heck dude?!" he cried out, holding his steaming arm to his chest. "I just want to-" 

An explosion from outside made the whole building tremble. The sirens of the police stroke his ears and made him snap back to reality. He looked around himself as Midoriya was coming to his senses, and spotted his scattered bedroom window. Whatever was happening in his apartment before, was now coming in hand, because he had an escape root. 

The blonde darted there and closed on his head with his arm. He jumped and broke into the leftovers of his window, hearing it cracking in his ears. Shudders of it stuck into his skin, cut his arm, midsection, neck. He bite his lower lip as his flew out of the window, his legs rubbing against each other. 

"Kaminari!!!" yelled Deku from inside, but it was too late. 

Hot air exploded from his feet and began pressing the air, resisting gravity, making his fall go slower. The fire jets Hatsume had mentioned a long time ago was coming for the first time in use as he flew down. His feet crashed into the ground, a wave of pain striking his body and making him gasp. 

"Dunce face!" 

Bakugo grabbed his hand, and he was once again dragged down the street. "They exploded my fucking car!" cried out the hot headed blond. His plans were so hot, they almost burned down his skin. Kaminari stumbled after him, unable to catch his breath. 

Everything was happening so fast, yet painfully slow. 

The shock in his body for the collision with the ground still vibrated inside of him. Somehow he managed to follow Bakugou, but he had no idea where they were headed. He just let him lead, away from whatever just happened. Away from anything that could go wrong. 

His heart throbbed. 

They stopped after a few minutes that looked like an eternity. Katsuki's grip around his wrist loosened and he leaned on a wall in an alley, breathing heavily. Denki was also panting, not noticing how his fingers crawled into his chest and scratched it. The pain was now coming in stronger waves, this time not disappearing after a moment. 

"Jesus fuck," Katsuki spitted on the floor, looking at the other blond. Why was Katsuki standing in a weird angle? And why did his words echo in Denki's ears as if they were miles away? "Did you get it?" 

Denki wanted to respond with the questions: 'get what?' but his mouth refused to move. His vocal cords also weren't cooperative at the moment.

"Oi," his voice was muffled by buzzing sounds in his ears. "I asked you- Hey, Kaminari, why are you holding your chest like that?" 

Kaminari's eyes found Bakugo's crimson ones and fixed on them. Or at least he tried, because Bakugo was swinging from side to side. Oh my God, stop moving. He tried to reach him and balance him in one place, when suddenly everything mixed up into a black tar and the pain was gone. 

Not only the pain, the connection to his surroundings was lost too. 


A slap on his face was the first thing he felt when his senses came back to him. 

His eyes opened and he breathed in sharply, his chest jumping forward and fingers grip into a stiff surface. Something wet spilled on his face. He blinked, eyes now looking nearly closed as he took a moment to adjust. 

"Kaminari!!!" another slap. 

"Ugh-" whimpered Denki, his head tilted to the side from the blow of the hit. A palm was placed on his face, finger rubbed on his skin, brushing off the wet spot. He inhaled again, shakingly, and finally focused on Bakugo's face. 

"You fucking fuck face! How fucking come that you just decide to die in front of me or some shit like that?! You piece of fucking shit I hate you-" 

"What. The. Fuck." his voice was so thin, no more than a whisper, but he still managed to squeeze one sentence out of his dry throat. Katsuki slapped him again. "Dude!" Denki cried out, slowly turning to his side with his back to Bakugou. "Stop! It hurts!" he whimpered, a dry cough escaped his lips. 

"Your heart-" breathed out Katsuki. That made Kaminari jolt back to him, and glance from beneath. "It… Stopped. Just like- Just like that." only now did Kaminari realize that Bakugo's hands were trembling, and that his chest was aching but this time from outside and not that waves of pain his heart was sending. 

Kaminari swallowed, beginning to understand why did he feel so heavy; why his body felt like a jelly. They stared at each other for a few moments before the realization that he had almost died settled in his mind. Two- No, three days without his medicine and his body was ready to die. Just like that. 

What the hell did they do to him? 

Voices of a crowd echoed in his ears. He looked around himself, noticing a lot of empty faces staring at him. When he looked up, without Katsuki's face in his eyesight, he noticed that he was under a ceiling with blinding lights all over it. It hurt to look at it, so he didn't. 

The crowd was made out of people who were whispering words and making sounds that made no sense at all. Where are we? He wondered, glancing at Bakugou for an explanation. The explosive blond sat on his knees beside him, with bowed head, looking at a machine that was lying on the floor in front of him. Kaminari took a moment to observe it, until it hit him that it was a defibrillator. 

His heart throbbed, this time with fear. 

He almost died.

His heart stopped beating. 

His body was ready to give up. 

They were killing him. 

He let them do it. 

Kaminari strained in his place, and then pulled himself into a sitting position. Judging by the lights, people, voices, and the stores around them: It was a shopping center. Near to his house was a small one, he had only go there for the supermarket - never for the clothes, for it being expensive brands. Now, he was there not because he needed anything to eat. 

But because he almost died, again. 

A lump of tears that refused to go down his throat took over him. He whimpered, wrapping his palm on his mouth. One tear fell. Followed by another. And another. Soon, the tears washed over his bloody, dirty and pale face. His breathing wasn’t stable; his body shook completely. 

The medication in his pockets was slowly killing him, no doubt about that. What were they feeding him? Throughout the screen of tears he ruffled for the packs, taking them out with a trembling hand and looking at them with disgust. 

He was swallowing it. It was inside of his organs, brought to his blood system and body, and  settled inside of him. It made him feel sick. He wanted to throw it all up. He wanted to choke himself to death because he let them kill him slowly. 

Kaminari heard, saw or felt nothing. The only thing he was aware of was the diabolic pills in his palm that a few minutes ago, he wanted to take on his free will (more or less). The voices and colors muffled around him, mixed morbidly. 

It was hot and then cold and then hot again. 

Suddenly something dug into his shoulder. It made him snap back enough to lift his head but not completely to be fully down on earth. Red eyes met his, a pair of lips that was moving. Red spikes appeared in his eyesight. Kirishima? He was saying something but it was distant. 

The tears rolled down his cheeks, chin, neck. He let go of the packs, not caring that they fell on the floor and leaned into Kirishima. His sobs were heard loud and clear even when swallowed by Kirishima's chest. Arms were wrapped around him and he managed to catch one sentence.

"I'm here."

Chapter Text

Shinsou was drowning in the heavy atmosphere that had started to spread in the house since the moment they had returned. 

It all started from the emergency call they received from Bakugo, saying that Kaminari fainted. He told them that he was in a state of clinical death, heart didn't beat; that he was running to the closest public place with a defibrillator. When Kirishima and him arrived, Kaminari was in the middle of a panic attack that only Kirishima managed to get a hold of, and he had to drag Bakugou to the car because he just wouldn't move on his own. 

Now, when they got back to the couple's house, Kirishima went to talk with Kaminari who probably really needed emotional support at the moment, for whatever reason. Shinsou would ask later. 

He himself, was in the kitchen with the explosive blonde. 

Bakugo leaned on the counter, as coffee poured from the coffee machine into a white mug. His eyes followed the stream of liquid, quietly, his face was still pale. Shinsou observed him with tired eyes. The scene was nerve wracking, Kaminari almost died on Bakugo as from what he understood. And they didn't get the letter. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You did a good job," he said dryly, because it was the best sympathy he could squeeze out of himself. 

"Shut up," grumbled Bakugo, his voice low and heavy. 

Ah, right.  Bakugo was like him: No sympathy needed. Just to shut his mouth. He wasn't going to obey, though. 

"Can you explain what the fuck happened? How did you get your ass in this mess?" he asked, looking at Bakugou tiredly. 

"I don't know-" Katsuki took the mug angrily, and took a sip. "He just fainted. Out of nowhere. Just like that." his voice was stiff but Shinsou could see through it. He was familiar with it. True, he and Bakugo weren't the best of friends, but they could bond on that stoic nature that refused to let the walls down so easily. It was impressive enough that Bakugo had told him that much by that point. 

"What was that thing he held?" a low key switch of the subject, because he really didn't want to argue with Bakugo. He needed answers. 

Bakugo's fingers dug out two packets from his jeans. He handed it over to him, so Shinsou took it and carefully observed. On one of them was written in navy letters Zeidanol. He stared at it for a long moment before his eyes drifted to the other packet, on which in black, bold font was printed the word, Neksomyne

"What is this?" he breathed out, turning both packets to now stare clueless at the ingredients that meant nothing to him. Regardless reading them or not. 

"I don't know," answered the blonde, "But I noticed that he was crying while looking at it. I called an old acquaintance, he’s a pharmacist, he’ll be hear in an hour to check what the fuck this shit it. I don't want to send it into a lab before we know what we're dealing with…" his voice trailed off. 

"Oh," Hitoshi placed the weird whatever on the table, "Can I get coffee too?" 

Bakugo moved from the counter, heading toward the living room. "Feel free."

Shinsou stood up and placed a mug under the machine, pressing on the espresso shot. The dark liquid poured into his cup, filling it. As he stared at it, thoughts swirled in his mind, his eyes narrowed. 

The weird chain of events that had happened in the last few days was quaint, gantly speaking. If he got it right, everything started from Kaminari's arrest- No . He suddenly remembered Kaminari's story, about a man who died in front of him and shoved the letter he and Bakugo were trying to get. This was the starting point, for sure. 

Or at least, he hoped it was. He didn't want to think what else Kaminari could have drag himself into; mostly because it was all so vague with no answers. The question seemed to arise more and more instead of getting solved. It was as if they had missed the bigger picture, well they were missing it for sure but not because they were idiots - but because it was hard to state anything for sure. 

Moreover, he noticed that he was beginning to worry about Kaminari greater then he had thought at first. The dead man, the letter, the arrest, the fainting, the panic attack - wasn't it too much in three days? Perhaps it was and that was why Kaminari was at some sort of breaking point. And maybe he was just paranoid. 

Shinsou sipped the hot dark liquid. He found himself leaning on the counter, glaring at an empty spot on the floor when suddenly he heard footsteps. The purple head strained in his place, glancing at the door that separates the kitchen from the living room. 

Kirishima walked to the couch, where his boyfriend was sitting and snuggled near him. He noticed Bakugo's arm automatically wrapped around Kirishima's massive shoulders, and the red head placed his head on his shoulder. 

"Well?" Bakugo's voice wasn't stiff, somewhere in the middle of indifferent and soft. 

"I talked to him. Uh, actually, more like sat with him in the darkness and let him cry out everything he held. Poor Kami," mumbled Kirishima. " ...He's shocked and kept mumbling something about being toyed with and used , I don’t really get it but it took me a while to calm him down." 

"You were there for over forty minutes." informed him the blonde. 

"Jesus," Kirishima breathed out. 

They fell silent after that, the only sound was their shifting on the couch. Shinsou wrinkled his nose, something didn't sit right with him but he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly. He tilted his head back, looking at the empty ceiling, and then the sudden urge to visit Denki hit him again. 

It already happened once, earlier this day, when he broke into the bathroom while the blonde was dressing up. He remembered the feeling of his skin under his fingers as he pulled the shirt on him: soft, yet firm. He could tell that that was the body of a former pro hero. He couldn’t help but feel a little creeped out, especially when his fingers tickled with warmness.

Shinsou hurried to brush off the thoughts, scolding himself. 

When he focused enough and was ready to go check on Kaminari, he noticed a shadow stumbling into the kitchen. His eyes darted and he almost dropped the mug in his palm as his eyes tried to take in Denki's appearance. 

Exhausted was a gentle way to describe the vibes gave the shortest man in the household. His hair was messy on his head, sticking out in all directions statically. Eyes red, and swollen. A slouching body position and an obvious aura of sadness mixed with anger.

"Uh-" Shinsou choked on his words, "Are you alright? You look like th-" he stopped himself. This wasn't the right time to say it. 

Denki sniffed and limped toward the taller man. Before Hitoshi was able to react Denki leaned on him, head buried in his chest as he let out a shaky breath. "Sorry," he whispered, however didn't move. 

Shinsou forced down a lump of discomfort, as his arm shot up. It hovered a few inches away from Kaminari's arm, in the end decided to take a hold of the counter instead. "Don't be. Are you alright? Do you need anything?" 

Kaminari raised his head, dead gold eyes were now digging holes of unexpected guilt inside of him. "Coffee would be nice."

"Then sit down," he pushed Denki toward the chair carefully, securing him as he plopped down. "Do you…" his voice trailed off. If he didn't want to talk to Kirishima, why would he talk to him? Shinsou turned to the coffee machine and pressed the cappuccino button, he heard some more footsteps and noticed Kirishima’s red head peeking into the kitchen. 

Their eyes locked and Kirishima smiled, nodding at him, and then he walked down the hall, followed by Bakugo. Shinsou glared at him, feeling betrayed that he was left alone to deal with emotionally unstable beaten up guy. He never excelled in helping people, so it was the worst idea they had had in the last twenty-four hours. 

"Hey," he heard Kaminari whispering, and hummed in acknowledgment. "Have you ever thought about being a doll pulled by strings?" 

Shinsou blinked. "What?" 

 Kaminari bit his lower lip, not looking at Shinsou. His sitting position was slouched, shoulders slumped, not maintaining eye contact. "Never mind."

What did they do to you, Kaminari?  

Kirishima’s words rang in his ears, "...He's shocked and kept mumbling something about being toyed with and used…" 

Rumbled something about being toyed and used. 

"...Have you ever thought about being a doll pulled by strings?" 

 Shinsou placed the mug on the table, taking a seat in front of the blond. He was fiddling with the hem of the shirt he was wearing, another shirt Kirishima gave him with the words LET'S C-ROCK IT was written on, making Shinsou wonder from where the fuck did Kirishima get those ridiculous shirts with ridiculous puns; and how on earth did Bakugo agree to let it in into his house? 

Kaminari breathed out heavily. "I'm tired, Shinsou," his voice was so quiet, once again giving Shinsou the feeling that he was talking to a stranger, not Kaminari Denki. "I don't understand why I fight so much when my body is ready to give up."

Shinsou sat next to him, frowning. "Don't say that."

"Why?" 

Was it a challenge? Shinsou bit down an irritated, cynical response that threatened to jump out of his mouth. "Because."

Denki sipped the coffee, and then pushed the mug aside. He leaned on the table, covered his head with his arm, a soft, "Okay," that was muffled by the table rolled in between his lips. "If I fall asleep, don't wake me up."

Shinsou's breath was caught in his throat as he froze in his place. His first instinct was the catch Denki and slap his face, however the blond stretched and yawned, dragging the coffee closer to him. He took a sip, Shinsou watched his Adam's apple wiggle, as he swallowed his words. He just wants to sleep. Jesus. Calm down. 

"Sure…" 


The knock on the door made Shinsou's head jolt suddenly. His eyes flew open and body strained in its place. Another knock echoed in his ears, and then someone rushed from the corridor toward the front door to open it. 

Shinsou yawned, realizing he had fallen asleep. He tried to sit up more comfortably on the couch, but noticed that a weight on his shoulders prevented him from doing so. Shooting a confused glance, a blond tuft of hair was drawn in front of his eyes as he observed the smeared fragile figure that smeared over his shoulder; unaware of the position they were in. 

The soft breathes rolling out of Denki's nose gave a weird comfort to him. 

"Wake him up."

Shinsou looked at Kirishima who followed Bakugou to the door, wearing a scowl on the process. It took a moment before the words oozed into his mind and made a logical phrase; but when it settled he pressed his palm to Kaminari's shoulder and squeezed it. "Kaminari, wake up."

Kaminari shifted underneath, lulling his head to the side and moaning in protest. Shinsou breathed in and shook him, receiving an annoyed growl but his mission completed successfully - the blond opened his eyes. 

"What…?" 

"Someone's here," informed him. 

His eyes darted to look at the entrance, from which echoed loud voices. Greetings, questions of: 'how are you?' and general well being. He guessed that the pharmacist acquaintance of Bakugo was the one who came to check on those weird Zeida-something and Nekso-whatever.

Denki cleared his throat, turning to look at the three men entering the living room. Shinsou looked too. 

The pharmacist wasn't older than them for sure. His hair was black and slicked back, eyes round and gray. He wore a casual hoodie combined with jeans, so that the only thing that gave away the fact he was a pharmacist was the heavy looking, gray, made of aluminium or something of that kind suitcase in his hand. 

"Good evening," he fretted. Shinsou stood up and approached him to shake his hand. 

"Good evening."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," continued the man, now going to shake Kaminari's hand. "My name is Yosuke Watanabe. I'm a pharmacist. You must be Controller and you're Chargebolt, am I right?" 

Shinsou didn't miss the way Denki flinched. Both nodded, Yosuke smiled widely. 

"Let's finish this up quickly, too much noise in one house." grumbled Bakugo, making his way to the kitchen. He came back a moment later with the packets, shoving them to Watanabe. The man took a moment to snap out of the surprising gesture, and then looked at the packets.


“What are those?”


“My meds.” Kaminari’s voice wasn’t louder than a whisper.

“Zeidanol… Neksomyne…” mumbled Watanabe. “Never heard of those, honestly,” he worked his way to the table and put his suitcase on it, opening it with a single push of the button. Honestly, the way it opened and turned into small lab was amazing. Shinsou didn’t know how a lab was supposed to look, but it seemed as if it had everything required. “Can I?” he asked, glancing at Denki who shifted with his body to face the pharmacist.

“Feel free,” shrugged the blond.

As the man fiddled with Kaminari’s medication, Bakugo and Kirishima sat themselves on the sofa, and the four pairs of colorful eyes were now staring at Watanabe. He took out a pill from the Zeidanol packet and placed it on a flat surface. He took out two white gloves and stretched them on his hands, then loosened the fabric so that it smacked his skin with a hollow thud. His long fingers pulled out of the suitcase a small plastic container, he opened it and took out something that looked like scissors. Shinsou noticed that his eyes glowed a bit and a gray screen appeared underneath them.

The sound the pill made while being crushed was starting to annoy Shinsou, making him frown a bit. It took him a minute before the only thing left from the once solid pill was blue powder. The next step was to deplete the powder into a container, which he placed under an inverted test tube, from which was a cable that stretched toward something gray; from which electrodes were attached to the screen.

The only thing Hitoshi could do at that moment was to stay quiet, as he had no idea what was going on in front of his eyes. He watched as the man repeated the same actions with the Neksomyne pill - he just placed the powder in a different container - the glow in his eyes languished and he pulled off his gloves.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Why are you taking those pills?” he asked.

Kaminari cleared his throat. “Cause they’re keeping me alive.”

“Can I have a less vague answer?” sighed Yosuke, “Usually, people don’t take pills for just staying alive. Remedy isn’t magic - everything has its own purpose.”

The blond fiddled with the hem of his hoodie. Shinsou wanted to pat his back as a way to comfort him but held himself back. Why? Good question.

“I actually have three pills that I need to take daily,” Kaminari’s expression was hard to read, “Zeidanol, Neksomyne and Didactium. I couldn’t take the Didactium with me because Midoriya appeared out of nowhere-”

"What the fuck that shitty nerd was doing there and why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not now.” hissed Kirishima.

 Watanabe frownd. “Never heard of Didactium either.”

Now everything was beginning to make Shinsou even less pleased. How come a pharmacist hadn’t heard of three different drugs that Kaminari took on a daily basis? What were the chances of it happening? Who gave him those weird medicines that even a pharmacist didn’t know for what purposes they were needed? He swallowed a lump of nerves, feeling his mouth dry. The shaky breath Kaminari let go didn’t ease the tension that was building up in the room.

“I-” Kaminari choked on his own words, “They told me to take it. O-one time I tried to revolt and refused to- to take it. I was still at the rehab and- and I passed out; th-then they told me that next time I won’t make it if I don’t take the mads and I just-... I just…” his legs trembled as he was rambling, giving the feeling that his tongue twisted in his mouth and tried to hamper to his words.

He noticed Kirishima’s palm on the blonde’s thigh.

“Breathe,” he whispered to him. Bakugo stood up and shuffled to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water. As Kaminari yanked the liquid shakily, Shinsou looked at Yosuke who begin typing something on that gray screen again. It was probably his quirk. He couldn’t quite put a name to it, but it seemed like a practical quirk to a pharmacist.

“These pills have some odd ingredients, I’ve never heard of them being used in medicine,” he mumbled.“I’m not even sure what they’re supposed to do, combined like that.”

Shinsou froze, and not only him - the whole world seemed to stop moving for a painfully slow moment. Kaminari made a weird noise from the side, that made Shinsou strain. He noticed his arm wrapped around his midsection, and that he was croached a bit-

“Fuck, Kaminari!” he yelped, catching him and pulling to his feet. He dragged the blond after him, pushing the door to the bathroom as the smaller guy stumbled after him like a lifeless doll. He heard footsteps behind him but he had no time to look. His body acted on its own - his hand flipped the toilet lid up with an uncontrollable force; for a moment it seemed that the lavatory seat was going to rip apart, and then he moved.

Kaminari fell on his knees, gripping into the rim until knuckles whitened. Hitoshi managed to notice Eijirou breaking into the room with a worried sick expression, but before any of them managed to squeeze another word - Kaminari disgorged probably everything he was holding inside for the last three days, as tears rolled down his cheeks and Shinsou was desperately holding his blond hair. Because that was the only help he could offer at the moment.

Chapter Text

Eijirou had never thought he would be so ashamed in front of his best friend - but here they were, Denki vomiting his inner organs in their toilet and his guilt crumbling him from the inside; ripping his soul apart and eddying in his chest like a hurricane. 

"Kaminari," Shinsou spoke calmly as the blonde coughed. "Take a deep breath. Come on you can do it, with me," he squatted down, rubbing the electric users back.

"T-they poisoned me…!" whimpered Kaminari, coughing. His arm shot up and tugged at his hair harshly. 

"No, Kami!" Kirishima squeaked, placing his hands on Kaminari's arm. "Calm down, please," he was about to cry, too. Kaminari didn't understand. Why did he agree to call Yosuke? He was such a dumbass. He should have explained everything himself, but there was no way turning back now. "Katsuki! Bring the Valerian!" 

"Where is it?!" he heard his boyfriend yelling from the kitchen. 

If it wasn't for Denki's sake, he could have already snapped at Katsuki for again not knowing where did they place things in their own house. "God dammit Katsuki! In the meds drawer, where else?!" he yelled back, hearing the explosive blonde shuffling and opening doors in their kitchen. 

Kaminari pulled back, breathing in and out quickly; heavily. He was paler than a porcelain doll, cold sweat gathered on his forehead. The redhead had never seen him so disturbed in his life, sure, it was Kaminari who overreacted to things and tended to make a fuss over nothing - but this time he had all the right to do so. Kirishima just wanted to help him, though. To explain everything. 

Katsuki entered the bathroom a moment later with a glass of water. Kirishima thanked him silently, noticing that his boyfriend wore a concerned expression. For some reason, instead of being relieved that Katsuki showed his caring side to Denki when he needed it - he felt even more ashamed than he already was. Slowly, hesitantly, Kirishima offered the glass to his friend, biting down on his lower lip. 

Kaminari breathed out, glancing at the cup. "W-what's that?" 

"Water."

"T-thanks…" he whispered, taking the glass with a shaky hand and chugging down everything at once. Kirishima continued on chewing on his lower lip, the heavy weight of lying again to Denki settled slowly in his chest. It was a small lie, true; but he totally made Denki drink something that he wasn't aware of what it really was. Valerian was just an innocent, calming mixture of natural ingredients - but he lied the same way the doctors used to.

Was it okay? 

Is it? Kirishima sighed to himself and lifted his eyes to look at Kaminari - when suddenly a pair of purple eyes caught his own. 

Shinsou glared at him, with an expression Kirishima couldn't quite read. He was used to deciphering Katsuki's expressions, but this was a tough one. And yet, even without knowing what exactly Shinsou was thinking, it sent chills down his spine and made him swallow a lump of nerves. Shinsou wouldn't dare tell Denki about that little lie just now, right? No, not in front of him. And Kirishima knew damn well that Kaminari wouldn't believe Shinsou out of all the people in the house. He was almost a stranger to them, after all. 

And Kaminari was so easy to manipulate. 

His conscience was pounding on the back of his mind and something tingled in his heart each time he thought about it. Back in high school, Kirishima had never imagined that he would be in that position. It seemed like some prank a future Kirishima would do to his younger self. Probably, somewhere in between the lines, he was still hoping nothing of this was real. 

The glare Shinsou gave him didn't end. They were sitting there: He was from Denki's right side, Shinsou from the left side. Denki was still crouched between the two massive men, unaware of the cold battle of eye contact both of them held. Shinsou's eyes were in deep violet color, sunken in his pale frame of face. They were small and sharp, and his lips were thin and as pale as the rest of him. Kirishima breathed out, forcing a smile. 

"Oi," suddenly Katsuki spoke. Hitoshi shot up his face to look at him, as the ash blond glared down. "What the fuck is your business with Eiji?" he scowled. 

"Oh, nothing." shrugged Shinsou. 

Kirishima's shoulders tensed. "Everything is cool, babe. We were communicating!" he chuckled in the dumbest way he could at the moment, hiding the tension and fear that washed over him for a second. He needed to stay in the cover in front of Katsuki. It was hard to maintain him clueless, and now with Hitoshi here he had a feeling it would be even harder. He thought that no one could be as hard to convince as Bakugo…. Turned out he was wrong. 

And that mistake would cost him a lot of pain in the ass. 

I need to get rid of Shinsou without making it look suspicious. He bit his lower lip, trying to make his mind work. I'm not smart enough… The thought was a bit painful, but it was true. I'll just ask Midoriya's opinion later. Decided with a sigh, looking down at Kaminari. 

"You OK, dude?" 

Kaminari glanced at him from beneath and almost gave him a heart attack. His eyes looked dead. They were narrow, giving cold yet furious vibes. His breath was caught in his throat for a moment, because he wasn't used to see Kaminari that way. "Do I look like alright, Kirishima?" 

Each word felt like a hammer against his skin. "Uh… No, but-" he choked on his own words, tongue twisting in his mouth. "Do you want tea?" 

"I want to be alone," Kaminari stood up slowly, giving the now empty glass to Bakugo. "Please."

Bakugo gave a nod, which meant that it was agreed and fine with everyone. Or at least that was what Kirishima thought, because Shinsou stood up too and dared to shoot Katsuki a glance that obviously asked him are you an idiot? "No, you can't be alone right now."

Kaminari glanced at him. "And why's that?" 

"Actually, he's right." hissed Bakugo. Kirishima needed to force himself not to roll his eyes, he hated the tone his boyfriend used when he agreed with someone who wasn't Kirishima. "Choose who goes with you."

 Kaminari tsk-ed. "I don't care," 

"Cool, then I'll go with you. Lead the way," Shinsou ducked his fists into his pockets casually. Kaminari glared at him, but then sighed in defeat and shuffled out of the bathroom, followed by the purple head. 

One stone fell off his chest. 

"I'll go finish stuff with Watanabe," informed Katsuki. Eijirou nodded. 

"I'll join you in a moment," he added, as Katsuki made a kiss gesture with his lips and left and room too. Kirishima’s stomach flipped, mouth was dry. 

He loved Katsuki, adored him with all his heart and was ready to sell his soul for him. And actually, he already kind of did. It all started… Well, everyone knew when it started. 

The Shigaraki Incidence. 

The hardest attack in the last decade the heroic world knew. It was almost as deadly as All Might's battle against All For One when they were still kids. He remembered the attack as if it was yesterday, it was haunting him with nightmares and gave him chills only hearing the name of it. Sure, he played it cool in front of everyone but honestly he was traumatized. Like everyone else, obviously. 

No one knew the details, except for him and those who were with him, about what had happened to those who were at the front lines. The public and the press knew vaguely, the rest of the heroes who were evacuating people or fighting the Nomu Army knew a bit better but not the utter truth of the sequence of events that took place back then. 

He knew. 

And oh God, he wished that he didn't. 

Three of those who knew the whole truth behind that incident were Bakugou, Midoriya and Todoroki. The three of them and himself found themselves in a face to face battle with Shigaraki after he sold himself completely to the experiment and turned himself into a human monster. If you could even call the thing that almost erased half of Japan a human. 

It was the first time in History where heroes got the order to kill someone from the government itself. 

And they killed him. 

But at what cost? 

The price he paid was his sanity. There were two main reasons for that - first of all, the battle was traumatic. Even Katsuki and Shoto agreed with him about that. No one dared to make fun of a hero that said he was mentally scarred for the battle. The other reason, actually the main reason was because he almost lost Katsuki. 

Speaking truthfully, he actually did lose Katsuki on that battle. 


The fire arose from different areas around him, the smoke choked his throat despite it already being half dissolved into space. His field of vision was filled with black dots - each time he blinked they switched and changed positions. It made his head hurt. 

Kirishima growled as pain throbbed thought out every inch of his body, and there were a lot of inches to share among them in the pain. He breathed in, then out, trying to focus. 

He couldn't believe that it was over. They killed him. Shigaraki was no longer a threat. They were saved. 

A tense laugh rolled out of his lips and he covered his face with his palms, breathing in slowly. It was finally over, though, after the first wave of shock would be over would come the real hard time: To clean up everything, recover… The usual stuff after fighting. But for now, he needed to rest. They were battling for almost twenty four hours straight, he was drained. So exhausted that he couldn’t digest that they had actually won. Perhaps he didn’t even realize what it meant.


“Katsuki?” he squealed weakly. He wasn’t sure where was Bakugo, as for the last explosion made everything crash around them and sent them flying to different directions. He sort of lost the understanding where he was in the expanse and the count of time, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. The only thing he could think about at the current moment was that he wanted to hug, kiss and praise his boyfriend because he was absolutely, utterly amazing in the battle.

When there was no response, Kirishima forced his arm to push himself up. His body whined in pain. He probably broke a rib or two, maybe even some other bones. He took in a deep breath - it was painful. Definitely broken ribs. He wrapped one arm around his torso, beginning to slowly stand up.

It took him a moment to observe his surroundings: The city was as it was before, just devoid of the warmth that made it worthy of that term. In those streets he was, as for the moment, the only being of blood and flesh - the rest around him were ruined walls that were doubtless home to many just… Twenty hours ago or so. Yet now, it was an unfamiliar maze to all. 

The ruins were scattered on the floor like broken glass of dreams and hopes of humanity that were almost erased. If it weren't for the heroes, not only half of Japan was in danger of obliteration. The realization oozed into his bones like a nightmare, making him gasp for air because suddenly it was hard to breathe. 

Never mind that, Kirishima shook his head, I need to find someone. By someone he meant Katsuki, however he'd be happy for any company to his only sack of broken bones and scarred soul. 

Kirishima limped carefully, avoiding any undesirable holes that he surely didn't want to stumble into. His crimson eyes searching for the familiar tuft of the ash blonde hair, wondering where could he be. Why didn't he search for him? His heart sank. What if something happened to him? What if he was unconscious? What if he was injured badly and bleeding to death-

"Katsuki!" he called, coughing in pain. He spat on the floor blood from his mouth, wincing in pain. "Katsuki!!!" he yelled louder, heart throbbing in his chest. 

His legs led him blindly across the area. He spotted other heroes that were limping and searching, or helping, other heroes, but Katsuki was nowhere to be seen. No, Katsuki. He forced down a lump of tears, sliding down ruins of a wall. 

He landed on more or less flat surface, ignoring the throbbing pain from the impact in his legs. Kirishima glanced around, turning and stumbling back. He breathed out shakily, the panic boiling inside of his chest - when suddenly he stepped on something. Kirishima jumped in surprise and turned, his eyes gone round. 

A hand. 

The scars. The half torn sleeve. No doubt. "Katsuki!" he called out in panic, coaching next to the ruined wall that covered his boyfriend. Actually he hoped that it was just covering and didn't smash him, or else-

No. He didn't want to think about it. 

His arms stiffened all at once and he grabbed the giant slump, emitting a battle roar as he pulled the demolition up; of course after checking that it couldn't hurt him nor Bakugou more. His face colored red, air stuck in his throat - and then he busted away the remaining of the wall, falling on his butt. 

Katsuki was smeared on the floor, bleeding from- From everywhere. "Katsuki!!!" cried out, crawling towards him, his body seized with terror. “A-answer me…!” he wrapped his arms around his shoulder and pulled him carefully into a tight embrace. His fingers were trembling and he had no idea how he managed to get a hold of his neck, searching for the spot where he could feel his pulse. But even when he found it, it was so weak. Tears creeped into his eyes, threatening to roll down his cheeks. “N-no… No no no! Don’t you dare! Katsuki!!!” 

His boyfriend didn’t respond, his breaths heavier and weaker with each passing minute. Kirishima folded his fingers on the blonds chest, starting to press down repeatedly. “Breathe! Breathe you fucker!!!” he yelled, tears now blurring his vision and mind absolutely blank. “Someone! Help!” he screamed his lungs out, whimpering and sobbing into nothing. “Help!!!”


Beep. Beep. Beep.

The hospital was, in gentle words, overloaded to the point there was no place to breathe. Patines were lying everywhere, some of them with severe injuries and some simply unconscious. The staff of the hospital ran restlessly between all the people who were brought there for help, for a treatment, and more doctors, paramedics and nurses were on the way from other hospitals and cities. 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Despite the wall between the room where Katsuki and other people who needed cardiopulmonary resuscitation, Kirishima could clearly hear the beeping of the machine that kept his lover alive. 

His arms were folded on his knees, fists pressed to him mouth. He himself was considered as someone who had light injuries, thus he let a nurse to give him some painkillers and until a moment ago he was treating himself the best he could. There was no way he would ask for help when there were people in a much worse state than he was. He would leave without immediate medical attention.

Two volunteers passed through the hall with a stretcher. It was covered with blue cloth, however, obviously a person was underneath. His heart sank for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. Someone didn’t make it. He sighed heavily, his mind wrapping in clogged thoughts of what if it was Katsuki there? He knew that he couldn’t think that way, he had to stay optimistic but how could he? He already knew about three pro heroes that didn’t make it. He didn’t know them personally, but it was still painful news.

The door opened with a soft squeak and the doctor stumbled out of the room. He rubbed his face tiredly, as Kirishima stared at him with round eyes. A nurse walked from behind him. He turned at her and glanced at Kirishima, she nodded, and the doctor rushed down the hall. Probably to his next patient.

“Mr. Red Riot,” she turned to him.

His heart pounded in his chest. “Yes?” 

“I’m afraid that our news is bad,” she spoke in a monotone voice. If he didn’t understand why she did it, he was angry at her. But he forced himself to hear her out first. “Ground Zero’s state is very bad. We don’t think he’ll be able to make it through the night.”

The color faded from Kirishima’s face. “You- you’ve gotta be kidding,” he choked on his own words, completely frozen in his place. 

“Sadly, it’s the truth,” she said, he really wanted to yell at her now. Her voice was colder than ice. “We can’t fight it. There’s not enough time nor ability for the moment. I’m sorry, but prepare yourself for the worst case.”

Thus, before Kirishima was able to respond, someone called her from behind. She apologized and ran to the opposite direction, disappearing into another room.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Kirishima’s mouth was agape as he tried to digest the information she threw at him, like old men threw bread at pigeons on the streets. His mind wrapped itself around it painfully slow. No, she had to be joking. There was no way that Bakugo fucking Katsuki wouldn’t be able to survive it. He was standing until the very last, he was strong and determined. He was the number two hero, damn it! This was not what would be the end of him!

Kirishima jumped to his legs despite them trying to stumble underneath his weight. He stumbled into the room, peering inside. The slap on his face when he saw the amount of people that were compressed into the suddenly so small room was painful. It was unreasonable to do it. Of course no one would survive like that! 

“Sir, please keep out,” a nurse called from the other side of the room.

Kirishima wanted to argue but he was so excited that no sound came out of his throat. She walked over him and slammed the door. 

Fucking great. Kirishima bit his lip, as he slowly slid to the floor, his head tilted back and pressed against the cold surface. He couldn’t lose Katsuki. No way in hell.

It felt as if time had stopped. Perhaps, if he stood still enough time would freeze. A tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another one, and another one. The feeling was pathetic to say the least. Yes, they defeated the evil. They saved everyone. The people were cheering for them. But… But at what cost?

The ugly whimper that rolled between his lips made the whole building tremble. The floor underneath him felt nonexistent, the noises and background movements too. Nothing felt real by that point of time. Perhaps Kirishima was the deadman in the whole story? His own blood and flesh didn’t feel his anymore. The only thing he wanted was to be sucked into a black hole and to never come to his senses again, because there was no way he would be able to face reality without Katsuki.

 All of the memories they made together were playing in his brain. Their first meeting at the U.A, the first time Katsuki agreed for them to meet up after school. How they laughed together, were sad and angry together. He remembered clearly the day when Katsuki confessed: It was a remarkable event, after all. He just jumped on Kirishima when they were in Bakugo's room at the dorms and smacked their lips together, after for the whole month Kirishima was wondering how did they label themselves. 

He remembered how they graduated, how he teased Bakugou for the warm smile the camera man managed to capture at the prom night. All of those memories, swirled like a hurricane of love and adoration. There was no way he would be able to continue his life without the man he hoped that some day, would be called his husband .

"Hello," the voice made the bubble Kirishima was in to burst. The redhead jumped, shooting a glance to the direction that the voice came from. "Do you hear me, sir?" 

"Huh?" he breathed out, confused. 

The man in front of him wearing a white hospital robe, which meant he was a doctor. His mouth was covered with a bluish mask, so he probably was a surgeon. Kirishima was impressed that his mind could conclude it on his own at the moment. "Hello." 

"What do you want?" he squeezed out of himself. 

The doctor's muscles were contractions at the corners of his eyes, giving away the smile that was formed underneath the mask. "You’re Red Riot, right? Or should I call you Kirishima Eijirou?" 

"Kirishima's fine," he mumbled. What did this creep wanted? Couldn't he see that Kirishima was in no mood to socialize? 

"Okay, then. You can call me Professor E," he said, slowly sitting next to him. Kirishima nodded, staring at the floor with a hollow gaze. When Kirishima didn’t respond, the professor finally went on. “I came here to offer my service.”

Those words bloomed a sudden interest in Kirishima. He glanced at him, noticing that he also was looking at some random point in the space. “What service?”

“I can help Ground Zero,” he said nonchalantly.

Kirishima frowned. “How? The nurse said that he wouldn’t be able to make it and that they can’t do anything on the matter.”

Professor E laughed. That made the urge to punch him grew stronger. “You see, Kirishima, the thing is that I’m holding an experiment for a long time. Because of the success we had in the lab a few weeks ago, I can assure you that it works, and that it can help Bakugou,” the way he said Bakugou’s name made Kirishima shrunk in his place. “I actually already used one of my findings on a friend of yours.”

Kirishima froze. “Who?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” the professor blinked innocently. “A building was crushed atop of Earphone Jack and Chargebolt.”

The redhead gasped. “What?!”

“Yes. The girl sadly didn’t make it. Her brain was dead when the rescue team brought them to me.” he pressed his palm to his chest, making a pained expression with his yellow, liquid pools of poison. 

“Jirou…?” Eijirou felt the life blooming out of his own crimson pools of sadness. Jirou, one of their best friends… Was no longer with them? “No way…”

"I’m so sorry for telling you this.”

“And… And Kaminari…?” his voice came out wobbly, because he wouldn’t be able to bear hearing about another dead friend.

However, Professor E looked at him with avid eyes attested that he was pleased with himself. “He lived. However, he’s in a pretty bad condition, but he’s alive.”

Kirishima let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. Honselty, the urge to embrace to doctor almost got the best of him. “Thank you.” he whispered instead.

“I can do the same with Bakugou,” told him, “Well, almost the same. But I can save him.”

“P-please,” his voice was trembling so much, Kirishima wasn’t sure that the professor could understand his words, “I-I’ll pay as much as you say, just please save him…!” he begged desperately, tears resuming to roll down his eyes.

The veiled expression Professor E wore would probably activate a red flag if Kirishima’s mind was able to concentrate on anything at all. The man shifted closer to him, taking his hand and shaking it slowly. His nails dug into his flesh painfully but Kirishima couldn’t escape his grip, as he leaned closer and closer, breathing upon Kirishima’s neck. 

“I’ll help Ground Zero,” he spoke in a sugary sweet voice, “And you…”

Chapter Text

Freedom wasn’t real. 

You thought that you had it until the moment capitalism proved you wrong. You could tell yourself and your surroundings that you were as liberal as a bird flying in the beautiful sky; no one stopped you from being ignorant, a total brainwashed zombie by the authorities, fed up with their sweet little lies until the moment you had no deliberation yourself. You were no more an individual, just a fat and juicy cattle raised by them , prepared to give in and blindly follow whatever faith they decided for you. 

It kind of reminded him of The Matrix. He remembered watching those movies as a teen, never really understanding the deep thought behind it. The thought that if everything that had happened didn't happen it was going to stay that way. However, a blossom of realization began to form knots and strings in his head, as the messy dots of mysteries or enigmas were coming together into something that actually made a tiny bit of sense. 

Or, perhaps, he was just going insane. Which, ironically he would say, made even more sense. 

Kaminari brushed his fingers through his hair and growled under his breath, leaning on the edge of the balcony in the Kirishima and Bakugo household. He heard Shinsou humming from the side and glanced at him, frowning. "What?" 

"Nothing," he shrugged. "Just checking out that you wouldn't try to commit suicide or something."

"I think that in my circumstances, I can do that and that'll be the best decision for me, actually."

"Didn't remember you being so…." Shinsou leaned with his back next to him, as his fingers pulled something out of his pocket. "So depressed," he chuckled. It was a cigarette pack that he fished one from inside, and then he took out a lighter and lit it up, holding the long stick between his thin lips. 

Kaminari pursed his lips. "And I didn't remember you smoking."

Shinsou ducked the lighter back into his pocket, placing his cigarette in between his fingers and exhaled the smoke he already inhaled. The tang filled the air immediately, making Kaminari wrinkle his nose. "I started this after the Shigaraki Incidence, but on the last half a year I do that only when I'm under pressure," shrugged. Then he held out the cigar, eyeing Kaminari from the side. 

Silently Kaminari accepted the offer. He never smoked, but in his state, he saw no harm in trying. As for the brand it wasn't some cheap turd; not that he expected anything else from a wealthy enough pro hero. He inhaled the smoke cautiously, letting it permeate through his throat and into his lungs like a foreign aroma of adhesive toxicity-

And then he found himself choking to death. 

Kaminari shoved the cigarette back to Shinsou and covered his mouth, trying to clear his throat form the tickling smoke that burned his throat and lungs and made his mouth dry yet filled with the taste of bitter tar. 

"Dude this shit’s nasty."

Shinsou laughed, seeming rather amused from the scene. "Yeah, my reaction was pretty much the same."

The blonde snorted, clearing his throat. "You still do it, though."

"I actually thought that you'd be smoking too. Weed at the very least," he said, playing with the stick of cancer between his fingers. 

"My therapist wanted me too, but turned out that I couldn't smoke with those meds I took, so yup," Kaminari answered casually, as if he hadn't had a panic attack a moment ago. He didn't forget about the thought that they were poisoning him; he didn't forget about the fact that he was furious. He just didn't know what to do anymore, Kaminari felt drained of power and will to fight at the moment. 

He needed his well deserved rest from anything yet everything. 

"Well now that you don't take that shit anymore, we can poison you with some better shit."

Kaminari tilted his head, "My heart is so unstable that I really can't tell if that'll kill me or help me. Then again, dying doesn't seem like a bad option at the moment."

"I thought it was your flex to poison yourself?" the sarcastic remark made Denki crack a smile. "We all have those, don't worry. But you gotta burn down the pills, I will personally watch over you so you don't take it anymore."

"I highly doubt that," Kaminari reclined his head toward Shinsou, glancing at him from beneath. "My heart’ll stop again without the Neksomyne, then my body will stop function without Zeidanol, and then… I don't know why do I even take Didactium. Do you see it, Shinsou? The motherfucking absurdity in this?" he demanded, gripping harder at the balustrade. "I don't even know what else the pills are for."

"Why did you agree to take them in the first place, then?" 

Kaminari pushed from the edge of the balcony, turning with his back to Shinsou. He tugged at his blond hair nervously, feeling his heart beat increasing with the tension he felt. "You don't understand my situation, Shinsou." he said with a shaker voice than intended. He was trying so hard to keep himself together, to not let everything he was holding inside out because it was simply useless. 

"No, I don't," the simplicity in his voice was comforting, giving away the feeling that Kaminari perhaps wasn't that insane. "But I want to. I want to help you, but you need to tell me what I need to know and do, so that I can try in the first place."

Denki chuckled bitterly. "Because that is what heroes do, I know."

"No," that one word cut Denki’s ears sharper than a knife. "I want to do it because-" his voice trailed off for a moment. "Because you’re my friend. Because we’ve known each other for so long. Because there's a lot of reasons but I just want you to trust me."

The silence that settled between them wasn't comfortable anymore. Slowly Kaminari turned to look at him, his gaze distant from reality. He observed Shinsou, as the man took another inhale of the cigarette. 

His hair was messy on his head, indigo locks forming a pleasant discord. Eyes sunk in from the lack of sleep, or maybe naturally, however it gave away a cold charming vibe that Kaminari grew to admire in the past three days. His body structure reminded him of a Greek God: the way his t shirt hugged his massive shoulders and chest, lined on his rather delicate hips, yet didn't look as if it was going to tear apart like it looked on Kirishima. His legs were in a nice form, the bow legged type - but it looked beautiful with all the muscles he gained in his years of performing as a hero. 

Kaminari vaguely remembered the Shinsou he used to study with for two years in the hero course. The only thing he could state doubtlessly was that from a grumpy teen, the guy developed himself into a beautiful man of grace and glory. 

Yet, Kaminari didn't know whenever it was an illusion, the laugh of fate. Perhaps the heavens was sending him his guardian angel so that he could enter the door of the afterlife safely, finally saying goodbye to this rotten world. Or maybe he was a complete crack, washed-up junkie.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Can I trust a capitalist pig?”

Shinsou froze. The expression he wore wasn’t insulted, per se. More confused, his eyes searched for something that he had missed. Ironically, Kaminari searched for the same missing thing, but in a different variation. “Huh?”

“Don’t you see?” Kaminari threw his arm to the side, turning his whole body to him. “We’re a mass of idiots that let some miniac lead us for whatever reason. I don’t know who are the people I tag as mass of idiots and I have no fucking idea who that maniac is, but it’s enough for me to be aware that I’m one of them. And it’s dumb. I’m not going to be led like that anymore. So I don’t know, Shinsou. Can I trust you, that you too will turn against the society and follow me down the rabbit hole?”

Shinsou took a step forward, however he seemed afraid. The expression on his face told Kaminari that his mind went bonkers but it was too late to take his words back. He had already lost himself to the selfish machine, but was he able to save the next generation? Was he able, at first, save himself?

“Kaminari-”

“No. Nothing you say will change my mind,” Kaminari backed a bit,  swallowing a lump of nerves, forcing it down. “I already swallowed the red pill. I did it a long time ago but realized it just now.”

“Wait, I-”

“Just let me go Shinsou. You’re in danger around me so it’s better for you to forget about everything and simply fuck off,” he breathed out, his body trembled. Shinsou was a few millimeters ahead of him, towering above his head, hiding him behind himself from the scary and cruel world. “Please don’t come closer-” he bit his lip.

Shinsou’s eyes almost glowed when the light barely reached them. “Trust me,” two simple words rolled out of his lips and made Kaminari’s hair on the back of his neck bristle. His breath was caught in his throat, eyes unable to look away from the deep pools he was drowning in. The oxygen didn’t seem to work on him anymore, as if he was a machine that this old schooled world failed to supply. Before he knew it, Shinsou’s palm cupped his face - it was warm. “I’d go to fucking hell if you asked me too. Lead the way, Kaminari.”

Why was he looking at him this way? The look of…

Lust.

Desire, perhaps.

Hitoshi’s lips brushed Denki’s. Not innocently, not teasingly, but in a passionate and demanding manner. The wind was knocked out of Kaminari’s lungs; for the first time his mind was locked into the present. The gesture stole the words neither one of them announced aloud. The silence felt like a card table, with all of the secrets laid bare, unprotected. His eyes faltered and body melted into the bittersweet touch of Hitoshi’s hands all over him, waiting.

Except, the weight of his lips never came.

Instead, the wind whistled between them and something passed in the narrow space that was between their lips, almost slicing his lower puckered lip in half.

Shinsou’s reaction was faster: he backed away and turned sharply, hand already shoved forward with a- Gun?! Kaminari’s eyes widened, he didn’t notice that the whole time Shinsou was with a gun tucked behind his back in his pants. He held it forward, veiling Kaminari behind his back. The blonde peered from behind his shoulder, trying to spot whatever was threatening on them while his mind swirled: They found him.

“Ah,” someone moaned from the side. Both men jumped, turning sharply to the direction of the sound. “There’s nothing I love more than to interrupt people that are about to kiss. It makes me feel way better about being single.”

Out of the shadows, appeared a guy. His arm was in a form of a long rifle, the barrel pointed at them. His raspberry colored hair was gathered in a short pigtail, though he was sporting bangs that parted on his forehead as to not obscure his vision. Blue, round yet sharp at the edges eyes observed and judged every breath they inhaled. He wore a black suit, and a white glove on the hand that wasn’t turned into a weapon. He squatted on the balustrade of the balcony, smiling mischievously.

“Who are you?” Shinsou’s voice came out stoic, emotionless, professional.

“Does it matter?” he tilted his head innocently. “You may not know me, Controller, however, Chargebolt is sure as hell should remember me… Or is your brain that damaged, huh?” he smirked.

Another one. Another villain demanding his memories. Why were the villains thinking that he could remember each and every one of them? In his not-so-long career he fought enough villains to say proudly that he didn’t remember all of them because there were just so many.

“There’s absolutely no reason for him to remember the trash of our society,” spat Shinsou back at him. “This is why you take out trash, per se. No one returns to look at it ever again.”

The smile on the guy’s grew wider. “Yeah, that’s why our world is so fucked up, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

“It indeed is. For today, let’s talk about how am I going to rip your ass for shooting us.”

He licked his lips, letting out an amused giggle. “That’s why I adore heroes so much!” his arm was shoved forward with a charging sound. Kaminari’s eyes grew wide as he gripped automatically into the pro hero’s arm - and then another bullet was darting their way.

Shinsou’s arm jumped to his chest as Kaminari noticed something silver-colored appearing for a moment, before a shield was formed and swallowed the bullet. He saw the purple head griping into his wrist, and then the bullet that was shot at them was sent back to its owner. As it hit the wall behind him, an explosion arose.

Boom .

Kaminari yelped in surprise as both stumbled back, feeling the ground shaking underneath their legs. “Fuck,” hissed Shinsou. His shoulders were tense, his whole body was stiff. His palm was resting on the top of his gun. His fingers gripped so hard around it, that his knuckles were white. 

The villain landed in front of them, his eyes glowing dangerously. He licked his lips, looking rather satisfied with the explosion that made the building tremble. The screams from beneath struck Kaminari's mind like arrows of horror - if the public got hurt, it was going to be very bad. Plus, the unwanted fuss. If it would make the police come back here then who knew what would they do to Shinsou, Bakugou and Kirishima for helping him out? 

He had to do something before it was too late. 

 "Move," he hissed. 

Shinsou shot back a confused look. "What?" 

"Let me handle this," Kaminari's voice wasn't louder than a shaky whisper. "Please."

"Hey, no secrets!" pouted the villain. 

It made a nerve spark in Kaminari's head. Was this piece of shit thinking that it was just a game? Without receiving a response from Shinsou, he shoved the pro hero aside, stepping toward the man. "What do you want," it wasn't a question. By now, it was an angry demand for information. Denki was fed up with not knowing. 

"Isn't it obvious?" asked the villain. "You- Oh sweet Jesus that sounds bad," he giggled. Kaminari stared at him in disbelief. 

The urge to ask him wherever he was on drugs and what was wrong with him grew stronger with each passing giggle. But he stopped himself. This isn't important. "Why do you want me?" his voice was weak. He wanted to slap himself. 

"Because you're a precious finding."

The answer was simple. 

The sun was in the sky, type of simple. 

Shivers ran down Kaminari's spine as the meaning behind the words settled in his mind.

Our experiment is progressing pretty well lately, but you have to find a way for Birusk to get back on the game board - or else we wouldn’t be able to do the finishing touches. 

The letter. Their experiment. 

"Because you're a precious finding," he was the experiment. The said finding that for some reason was called Birusk in the letter. He didn't come back to that game board mentioned in the letter, so was that guy sent here to drag him back with power? His palm was sweaty. 

It was hard to breathe. 

"Oi, you're not going to take him!" once again he was shoved back, behind Shinsou. Now, Kaminari had a hard time telling what was going on around him because everything was happening so fast and it was so confusing and-

And he just wanted to curl up in a small ball. So that the ground could easily swallow him, and he would never be able to come back to the cruel world he was trapped in. Kaminari couldn't find the will to fight anymore, honestly. He felt like a doll swinging between Shinsou's will to protect him; and that villain's will to drag him to wherever for whatever that was waiting there for him, exclusively.

But where was his will? Was someone considering what he wanted and what he didn't? 

"And who will stop me?" 

Kaminari lifted his eyes to face the now angrier visage of the man. 

And suddenly he was frozen, with his eyes wide, as Kaminari could hear from Shinsou's snort that he was smirking. "I will," and his voice - quiet yet earth braking; leaving an impact of murderous intentions and lust, like from before. It made his heart stutter in his chest. 

He stepped towards the man, shoving the gun to his face. 

"Are you going to kill him?" the question was shot out of Kaminari's mind before he was able to take control over it. 

Shinsou didn't look at him as he pressed it to the villain's forehead. "No. This is a safe gun. It only shoots low electric shocks," he shrugged. "I'm going to knock him out and then-" 

Kaminari's eyes widened as blood splashed from Shinsou's midsection. 

The purple haired man gasped, his body arching and head shots to the side. His arm was shoved forward and he pressed to shoot - but then he fell to the floor, never hitting his invisible aim. Kaminari breathed in, completely taken aback by the sudden attack. 

"Shins-!!!" 

And then, as pain exploded in his head, his eyes rolled to their sockets and body toppled on the floor; his consciousness shutting down as only one thought was left in his mind. 

He just hoped that Shinsou was ok. No, he HAD to be ok.

Chapter Text

"... you’re lame, dude." 

Kaminari squirmed in his place, tilting his head a bit as arrows of pain were shot back and forth through his head and spine. 

"No! I'm telling you, it's the purple bitch."

Something buzzed in his head, as if someone whacked his eardrums with cymbals. 

"Are you kidding me? You're a human killing machine and you couldn't defeat a junkie twink and an unarmed hero?" 

A junkie twink. Was that a new nickname for Kaminari? Those voices sounded so distant yet close, he had a hard time telling wherever they were familiar or he had never heard them before. It could happen with a man after being knocked out in the middle of the day. Kaminari tried to force his eyes open, but the task was hard. 

"I forgot about his quirk, okay!" whined whoever talked. 

"That's because you're a dumbass- oh, looks like the Junkie Twink is waking up."

So the nickname was definitely in his honor, because a strong gut feeling was telling him that indeed he was the only person in the room that could be in a progress of ' waking up'

"I'll go call the doc."

He heard the sound of an automatic door opening and closing; then finally managed to fully open his eyes. It took a moment for his eyesight to stabilize itself, and when it finally agreed to cooperate with his fuzzy brain - a dark room was discovered in front of him. It had plain gray walls, a table that stood in the middle and a few chairs behind it. Also, machines were placed on the floor, looking like dead computers. 

But then, he realized that a transparent wall separated the part of the room where a woman sat with a judgmental look on her face; and the other part where he was chained to the wall. His eyes went round in surprise and sudden fear pumped in his chest. Immediately he tried to move; the sound of ringing chains couldn't be good. 

Kaminari looked down at his body when his senses came back to him, because he realized that something was missing. His movements felt too light, despite the chains. He almost yelped aloud when he noticed that actually what was chained was his torso, because his legs seemed to be missing.

They took my legs. Fucking perfect. 

"Don't look so offended," the voice of the random woman echoed in his ears. "You'll get fresh new limbs from the doc."

The doc. Kaminari frowned, looking up at her. "Where am I?" he demanded to know, though his voice came out shakier than he wanted it to. He cleared his throat, looking as stoic and indifferent as he could. Basically, he was just trying to mimic Bakugou's expression and hoped it would work. By looking at the amused smirk that was drawn on her face - it didn't. 

"Somewhere."

Goddammit. Kaminari sighed heavily. He looked to the side, trying to recall the last events before he was knocked out. He and Shinsou   were on the balcony of Kirishima and Bakugo's household. They talked about… Something; and- Red exploded on Kaminari's cheeks as his face suddenly grew hot, remembering that lust in Shinsou's eyes and the fact that they almost kissed after Kaminari's mental breakdown. Anyway , Kaminari shook the feeling off of his chest; later on they were attacked by some creep and… 

Shinsou was shot. 

"What did you do to Shinsou?" he blurted out. 

The woman tilted her head. "Shinsou?" Kaminari glared at her, until she suddenly clapped her palms and made an ‘oh!’ sound with her dark red lips, “That dude. Well, he was an obstacle so we got rid of him.”

Kaminari’s face paled. “ Got rid ?”

She smirked, and the door opened again. He recognized the human-gun with the pink messy hair immediately, nonchalantly following the back of some old man wearing a white lab coat. He had small, square glasses, and his brown eyes sunk in from how tired he was. His facial features were sharp, yet he himself wasn’t the thinnest man alive. Kaminari wasn’t dumb, he already knew that it was the said doc they were talking about, however, it didn’t mean he was going to sit here and let them fool around with him.

"I can't believe this is E's precious finding," suddenly grumbled the man, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought that he was talking about the other blond. What was his name…"

Kaminari wrinkled his nose. The other blond? 

"Bakugou Katsuki? Yeah I thought so too, but he doesn’t look like the twink from the pic," shrugged the pink haired guy. "I mean, this twink," he pointed out at Kaminari. 

"What do you want with Bakugo?" shot Kaminari, his eyes widening with fear. First they hurt Shinsou, now they were after Bakugo, couldn't they leave him and his friends alone? Whatever was happening, wasn't good. 

"None of your business," spat the heavy man. "You need to shut your mouth and do exactly as I tell you."

A nerve popped in Kaminari, as he tried to move his body, feeling electric current running up and down his body. "Try me."

Suddenly, the pink haired guy and the girl burst in laughter. He shot them in irritated glance, realizing why were they making fun of him. All of his missing limbs were, well, missing. He could activate his quirk from the one arm that was still in its place, however his quirk wasn't as strong as it used to be since the incident. And for some reason, he had a strong gut feeling that they had something to do with it. He had never given it a thought before, so only he realized how bad it actually was - because he couldn’t use his quirk and escape out of here. Not that he had legs to runaway with. 

Pressing his lips tight in defeat, Kaminari glared at his enemies, refusing to satisfy them furthermore. 

"Now that that’s settled, you better do exactly as I say." repeated the doctor, "If you want to have your limbs back, that is." 

Huh…? To say that Denki wasn't confused would be a lie, but the term confused was too gentle to describe the feeling he had. "My limbs?" 

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well of course not your original limbs, dumbass, those rotted long ago," he turned to the other two villains in the room. "Bring him to room 056, we'll start the operation in a moment."


To say that Katsuki disliked the new findings was a very gentle way to put it.

He trudged to the kitchen, opening the medics drawer. Automatically, his fingers fished a pack of pills under the name Ketamil. A shaky breath escaped his lips as he slowly shuffled back to Watanabe, forcing the usual scowl on his face. “Hey check those too,” he said, throwing the pack to the man sitting next to him.

Something was fishy.

In his mind, the dots didn’t connect. Everything the blond told them wasn’t making sense. And Denki’s reactions? The fact that his heart stopped less than a day ago? Only a fool wouldn’t be bothered by it. Eijirou was acting weird, too. In the last year and a half he learned to trust the red head but…

He had always suspected that there was something missing. A small secret kept under covered by the man. But Katsuki couldn’t speak for sure.

Why? Well, the answer was simple.

He couldn’t be sure about anything.

The fateful day, when he woke up in an unfamiliar place; connected to machines that kept him alive and being confused - was fresh and clear in his head. It was the only memory he could state for sure that he had. The first face he saw was the sleeping face of the redhead, smeared on the hospital bed beside him, scarred and beaten up.

At first, he couldn’t recognize him. Little by little as he recovered his memories arose from the dark abyss; but not all of them. There were still huge gaps in his head that refused to fill up as time passed.

Kirishima always reassured him that it was expected. After all, Bakugo suffered from a heavy head injury and barely made it out after the Shigaraki Incidence . It was a miracle by itself that he returned to the hero job. But it was supposed to be obvious for everyone.

With or without his memories, Katsuki was determined to be a hero as he supposed he always was. But that wasn’t his point. What bothered him now was that it was too suspicious, too easy .

How come that he and Kaminari both suffered from the heaviest injuries (well, not in concluding the dead ones) and both were taking some weird pills to recover?

As what he could tell, Kaminari’s trauma was way worse than his - the guy lost three out of four of his limbs and had two open heart surgeries in less than two months in a row. The true miracle was how the electric blond was still alive.

Honestly speaking, Katsuki vaguely remembered what had happened on the battlefield, he just knew about the aftermath.

He was part of the aftermath.

The look Watanabe shot him after he checked Katsuki’s pills too made his stomach flip. The man opened his mouth to speak - when suddenly an explosion startled the house.

Walls trembling and crumbling cracks: Katsuki looked to the direction of the explosion which appeared to be the balcony. The place Kaminari and Shinsou went to. “Shit.” he breathed out, darting there before he could process any other information. Eijirou peered out of the bathroom, his face pale. “What happened?” he bypassed him, hearing the redhead immediately follow his tail.

“I don’t know!”

They didn’t waste a single moment, sprinting to the transparent door of the balcony and bursting it open. He broke out of the house, covering his eyes from the rising smoke. It took a moment for it to dissolve into the air, leaving only the view of their ripped balcony - and Shinsou who coughed blood and tried to lift himself on shaking arms, basically bathing in his own puddle of fresh, red blood.

“Where’s-” he cut himself off, turning to Hitoshi, “Shit, Ei - call an ambulance right fucking now.”

“Y-yes!” squeaked Kirishima, running back into the house.

“Stay with me,” he leaned down next to the guy and grabbed him, turned him on his back and examined him. Something penetrated his waist, there was no bullet. According to his knowledge of human anatomy - the kidney was the place that suffered the hit. Not good at all, but if they act fast it can be saved.

Without warning, he pressed down the wound, causing a high-pitched scream to emit from Shinsou’s mouth. The purple head yanked his body and grasped onto the floor, his breaths were heavy but rapid.

The fact that Kaminari was nowhere to be seen didn’t contribute to the situation either.

Fuck.


Bakugo parked the car under a tall building, glancing at Watanabe sitting next to him and typing something on his phone; as his hand reached for the door to open it. He shut off the screen and turned to look at the ash blonde, smiling. 

“Thanks,” he said, pushing the door of the car opened.

“Uh,” let out, “No, thank you. And sorry for the mess,” he said as apologetically as he could.

The man stopped and looked at him, sighing, “It’s alright. I hope those two will be fine… I’ll finish working on the pills in two or three days and contact you asap.” Bakugo nodded and watched silently as the man exited the car. “Stay safe,” he added and then closed the door.

The moment he entered his building, Bakugou pressed the gas and let the car roll down the road, his eyes narrowed in the uneasiness that hovered around him the past day.

After they found Shinsou, the ambulance took him to the hospital. Kirishima volunteered to ride there with him and keep an eye on the guy, so that Bakugo would be able to give Watanabe a safe ride home. They didn’t want to get the man involved furthermore in the brewing mess; so they asked him to keep his profile law and work undercover for them.

Hopefully, it would do the job. The man was a pharmacist that took part in dirtier projects than that. Anyhow, he had to tell them what those pills were really doing to him and Kaminari.

Though, he didn’t tell Kirishima that he gave the man his medication too. It was better to keep quiet about that for now.

Now, the ash blonde headed to the hospital. He drove through the silent street, as for it being already a late evening hour. The sun made its way to the horizon long ago, letting the shadows take over the realm of humanity. His skin shivered as he scanned the streets, feeling the heaviness and tension in the air around him. It wasn’t a peaceful evening.

The plan almost went according to what he initiated at first, but an unexpected figure caught his attention. To his surprise, or maybe sorrow, it was the only man in the world he couldn’t stand since they were kids - Midoriya Izuku, The Symbol Of Peace: Deku.

His stomach flipped at the sight of the green haired hero, who walked nonchalantly on the street, wearing a horrible, beige trench coat. Why, on earth, did the blond have to see his face now? Was it the laugh of fate? His day was shitty enough, he didn’t need to see him too-

Kaminari’s words suddenly drummed in his ears.

“...I couldn’t take the Didactium with me because Midoriya appeared out of nowhere...” Was what he had said when he told Watanabe about his other two pills. Therefore, it meant that for some odd reason, Deku was in Kaminari’s house when they went there to take that letter Kaminari had never found. Not thinking, Katsuki hit the brake pedal and turned the wheel, parking randomly. He didn’t even know where he was allowed to park his car there but he didn’t really give a fuck.

Midoriya, as oblivious to Bakugou’s presence as before, turned into an alley. The ash blonde grabbed a mask for his mouth he sometimes wore to run away from the annoying press and wore his disguise, exiting and locking the car. He waited a few moments before ducking his fists in the pockets of his hoodie and plowed after the green haired man.

Following his steps was easy. As a trained pro hero he mascerded himself damn well, going completely unnoticed and mingling in their surroundings. However, not even once he let his eyes slip away from Izuku, in the fear to accidentally lose sight of him. Yet, he never did.

Within half an hour of walking, the urban landscape changed into tangled vegetation of the nearby forest. His eyes explored the environment while he was careful not to step on a broken branch, continuing to follow the hero carefully. The feeling of discomfort increases more and more as he followed the man, his heart throbbing in his chest.

Suddenly, the man in front of him turned sharply. Eyes widening, Bakugou hurried to leap behind a tree, clinging to it, his breath caught in his throat. They both stood frozen for a few moments, and then he heard rustling leaves, signifying that the man continued his walk. He quickly followed, now keeping his alertness even more. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder how stupid this nerd actually was, or maybe he was just trained too well.

Bakugo couldn’t expect the great building that appeared after another twenty minutes of walk.

At first glance it looked like an abandoned building, with ivy growing on it and the trees completely masking it with their branches. The two men in black uniforms were the only indicator that it was far from an abandoned building, and his eyes flicked to the familiar big, white letters that formed the word E-TECH . He had seen it somewhere, but couldn’t remember where.

From the distance he was he couldn’t eavesdrop to whatever was said, but Midoriya patted a shoulder of one of them and entered throughout the apparent automatic door. Yup, this isn’t an abandoned building at fucking all. He let a minute or two pass, before he began his movement in the shadows toward the entrance. Whatever this place was, it was shady and Katsuki didn’t like it; nor the fact the Deku was part of it.

Bakugo snuck up behind one of the guards, slamming the side of his neck. Without even watching him fall, he grabbed the pistol he had hung from his belt and shot at the other guard, who didn’t have the time to even let out a scream before the gun was slammed against his head. The two were knocked out, as the pro hero smirked above them nonchalantly. Now, was the less intimidating part - he had to strip one of them.

The grueling operation was done at maximum speed, and within two minutes the blonde was dressed in a black suit, covering his face with the helmet and heading for the entrance. He picked up the ID card of the one who he took the uniform from and transferred it on a scanner at the door, stepping inside into the pit of the unknown.

Upright shoulders, forceful walking - he overtook the guard's character momentarily. His legs led him down the corridor that seemed to widen the more he deepened into the cliff core; in which was the mysterious building. There were no people, the walls were white and the smell of a lab was in the air. Strange chemicals wafted through the air making his nose tingle, along with distant sounds of squeaks and engravings, as if someone was trying to scratch a fossilized wall.

His stomach flipped but he shut off his inner voice that was telling him to run, and kept his walk farther. He approached a door that required once again to scan the stolen ID card, and for his luck to door opened and he passed it too. He had no idea where he headed, or where he was generally, but it was his duty now to discover whatever this place was and to do… What he needed to, eventually.

Midoriya was nowhere in his sight, and slowly but surely the place turned into a maze of halls, doors and corridors. The strong lights made his head hurt. Completely lost but too proud to admit it even to himself, Bakugo took a sharp turn - and accidentally stumbled upon a bunch of people. He froze for a second letting panic take over him, before he did the most logical thing in the situation as his eyes noticed the white lab coat one of them was wearing.

He saluted like a disciplined soldier, standing still. Hopefully, it was the right thing to do. The tired looking man nodded at him and passed from his side, barely even looking. The rest of the people that shuffled behind him did too, too busy with themselves.

Only after their footsteps were no longer heard, Katsuki relaxed and hurried to walk down the corridor. He was on the right path, if he saw some people already. Or so he told himself.

Five minutes of total silence passed by before he exited the corridor and found himself in a lobby. Behind the reception desk he really didn’t expect to see; sat two women, chatted among themselves that didn’t spare him a second glance. His guessed that those two had no idea who they were working for, and it was sad how easy it was to manipulate people who just wanted to earn some money. He brushed the thought aside as he turned to the elevator and pressed the bottom.

The doors opened and he stepped in - immediately taken aback by the fact that Midoriya was in one of them, holding a note in his palm. The green haired man shot him a look and then smiled, moving to the side giving him some room to stand. Katsuki didn’t flinch, nor gave away any hint about being an intruder, and pressed randomly on the fifth floor.

“Did The Doc called you too?” suddenly asked Midoriya.

Shit. If Katsuki answered, his disguise would go to hell immediately. So he just nodded, his arms crossed firmly on his wide chest. Who was that Doc anyway? Did Midoriya really got himself involved with something… He still didn't have the right words to describe that something, he just knew that he didn’t like it.

“I see,” it was irritating that he used his usual cheerful tone, “Say, have you seen Kirishima here today by any chance? He said he would come here by six but I was called because apparently he didn’t.”

That almost made Bakugo choke. Eijirou? He glanced at Deku as restrainedly as he could, shaking his head in negation. However, his heart thrilled in his chest and had begun pumping so loudly. Why did he say his name? Why was he looking at him so puzzled? He watched as the green haired wrinkled his nose and shrugged, scraping the piece of paper between his fingers.

“Oh well, I’ll ask him later,” he yawned, and the elevator dinged, telling them that they reached the floor.

Midoriya went out first, Bakugo on his tale. The tension seemed to grow as his mind went bonkers: what was Kirishima’s connection to this place? Why he had never heard Kirishima mentioning being with Midoriya in some weird lab? Sweat gathered on his forehead as things started to make sense in his mind but he just shoved it forcefully aside; denying it with all of the will he had.

 They approached a heavy, metal door with a retina scanner that scanned Deku’s eyes. He peered inside, and then looked suddenly at Bakugo, who almost jumped in his place. “You coming in? They’ve already started.”

Who are they ?

He nodded and hurried after him, the door closing behind the two men. The room was dark, the only source of light was from a lamp that was in the center of the room. Screens were viewed on the walls that showed lots of weird captions, drawings of a rotating 3D body and all sorts of graphs and alternating numbers. The sounds the machines made, beep beep beep, were annoying. His eyes scanned the room as they walked toward the center, to a man that was attaching something to someone tied to a huge chair.

His heart throbbed.

It was Kaminari who was bound to the chair, wriggling and growling like a trapped animal, stripped of his clothes except a pair of boxers. He looked as if he was in pain, his hair standing slightly from the static electricity that must have formed there. Bakugou then noticed the tears that were rolling down his cheeks as he suddenly let out a cry of pain that was muffled by the clothes tied to his bruised mouth.

The man was holding weird looking instruments in his hands that Bakugo couldn’t tag names to, and fastening a screw into a bionic leg that was attached to his thigh. Another, similar bionic leg was already attached to the knee of his second leg, and finally for the first time in a few days - he saw another arm connected to the former pro hero’s shoulder. They’re giving him new limbs…?
 
Then why did it hurt him so much if they were helping him? Or maybe they didn’t? He didn’t look like someone who wanted them to do what they were doing.

“Hey Doc!” greeted him Midoriya, coming closer. Bakugo didn’t miss the way Kaminari’s eyes widened at the sight of the green haired man. That made his gut flinch even harder. “Hello to you too, Kaminari,” he said in a soft tone, “Finally. I thought you would never do it.”

“Yes because it was fucking impossible to bring him here,” grumbled the man, looking up at Izuku.

“That’s because Tai is a dumbass!”

“Shut the fuck up Akira.”

Bakugo only now noticed the presence of another two people in the room - a young woman and a guy sitting across from them. He stared at the as they nonchalantly watched the man torturing the blond, feeling a strong urge to punch them in the face. He forced himself to look back at Denki, who sat slouched in the chair and was breathing heavily, saliva dripping down his chin and mixing with his tears.

Anger bubbled in his chest and it was so hard to maintain quiet. Suddenly the man looked up at him, their eyes locked as he frowned, shooting the green haired hero a confused look. “Why’d you bring a guard?”

Oh shit-

“Huh?” Midoriya raised his brow. “He told me that you called him…?”

“We called no guard,” interrupted the young woman, glaring at Katsuki. “What are you doing here you idiot?”

Bakugo cleared his throat. Their eyes dug into his flesh and made him almost choke on his own saliva. His body strained in his place as he wrecked his mind, searching for the best option possible in the dumb situation he found himself in because he was too reckless for his own good - when suddenly his eyes landed on Kaminari’s.

Fear. A cry for help. They were begging for someone to come and save him. 

That was it. Bakugo couldn’t take it anymore. 

Whatever they were doing to Kaminari wasn’t good, and he wasn’t the type to stand still and watch his friend getting hurt. The process of putting on those robotic prosthetics looked painful enough for him to be convinced that Kaminari wasn’t in charge of what was happening to his body, despite him being fully aware of his surroundings. Bakugou took a deep breath and smirked underneath the helmet, the adrenaline kicking in.

“Well no shit you didn’t call a guard,” he hissed, yanking the helmet off of his head. His crimson eyes fixed on Izuku’s stunned green eyes, taking in the pleasure of the way his body strained and face paled. “Hey nerd,” he spat, taking a step closer.

“Kachan-” breathed out the pro hero. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I could say the same to you,” shot at him, feeling his palms become hotter. “What the fuck is your business with Kaminari?”

“Ah…” Midoriya looked like a lost puppy as he took a moment to probably analyze the situation but Katsuki didn’t let him do that - because he had already charged forward and hit his palm at the main computer screen, exploding it to shudders.

Chapter Text

Shigaraki Incident , one year, six months and four days earlier


“Doctor!”

The man turns to look at a nurse that bursts into the operation room. Her hair is messy and face dirty. Replete drops of coagulated blood adornes her once-white uniform. She breathes heavily, shock and terror spreading on her face like wildfire. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re asking for your immediate assistance in room 547.”

He pushes the chisel to one of the surgeons next to him. The doctor throws off his gloves getting ready for the ones he’d surely have to put on. “Switch with me,” says as he rushes past the door. Never seeing her reaction, the doctor finds himself running down the corridor, despite his muscles whining in pain.

His nostrils are flooded with the smell of blood. Every hall seems to hold an abundance of people covered in injures. Every surface is dusty, dirty, blood soaked. The nurses move hurriedly with a vigorous purposefulness strides from room to room on their rounds. It’s almost impossible not to step on someone, but he does his best.

The elevator isn’t an option, thus he darts to the stairs. His legs carrying him three floors down; his palm wipes sweat from his forehead. Throughout all his years of being a doctor he’s never seen such chaos like this before. 

Bursting through room 547, his eyes take in the scene faster than he ever imagined he could: Two stretchers are placed carelessly in the center of the room. Atop of one is a young woman, her body covered in black and blue marks; head bloody and slightly caved in. There’s no way someone would survive such a traumatic head injury, and with a quick look at her non moving chest he can tell that isn’t breathing. Isn’t part of the living realm.

On the other stretcher is the body of a young man. Judging by the bustle around him, he is still alive.

“Connect him to the ventilator!”

“His heart is barely even beating-”

"Doctor!”

He blinks. “What’s the deal?” stepping into the room, he wears his cold expression. 

Two nurses wrap white bandages that turn red in a split second around the remainings of past legs. Another male nurse rushes to the patient with a defibrillator, as they try to connect the man to the ventilator.

“They were brought here a minute ago, it was reported that both pro heroes Chargebolt and Earphone Jack were saving people from a building that crashed. Earphone Jack died on the ride here. Chargebolt has both of his legs cut off because he was trapped underneath the building, he couldn't have been extracted otherwise. We still have a chance to save him, sir!” reports one of them. He can’t tell who, there was too much noise and people in such a small room.

“Let me take a look,” he pushes through the panicking team and glances at the pro hero. He is indeed alive, barely breathing; chest refusing to rise up and down despite the machine doing its job. His face is as pale as a corpse - indicating his heavy blood loss.

The nurses that are desperately trying to stop his bleeding eventually get a hold of the situation. He concentrates on his face, that looks peaceful - his blond brows knit on his dirty forehead, and despite his injured overview you can tell this is a man of grace and glory. But that won’t last long if he doesn’t act fast.

His eyes shine as he turns on his quirk. His head is fine except for some cuts and small crack in the jaw; the nervous system seems to be traumatized, but by what? He can't tell. His heart is beating wearily, almost giving up. “Prepare for an open heart surgery,” he instructs, eyes continue to scan the injured, young hero.  

Broken ribs. Cracks here and there. His left arm - no way, it can't be saved. A huge metal pole bisects it from the center of the shoulder to his elbow. The bone is exposed to the world to see, peeking from the shoulder in the opposite direction of where it’s supposed to; and the rest of the arm twisted and colored in dark shades of purple.

Cracks on his pelvis. A deep cut on his lower stomach. There are a few screws stuck in his thigh, near the place where the building fell. The other leg seems to be fine, well, at least until the places where it's cut to. The cuts were careless, the bone jagged from the multiple times the blade came down. They need to be fixed properly. 

"Call Doctor Hanazaki now. we have to cut off his arm!” he roars, hearing one of the team sprinting out of the room.

Then he looks back, at Earphone Jack. His eyes glow again and begin scanning her rapidly. She’s dead, no doubt in that - her skull is split in half and brain slowly dripping down her cracked, slightly caved in head. But- her heart. “Get her ready for surgery as well!”

“But Doctor-”

“No,” he spats indignantly, rushing to prepare the equipment, “I’ll take full responsibility. We’re going to save him at least,” he retorts, his eyes glowing no more. The team nods, understanding there is no time to scruple nor question morality. Fixing his gaze on the woman, he takes a deep breath, wearing the white mask on his mouth.

Don’t worry, you’re going to save your friend.  


Saying it was painful would be an understatement.

He felt his saliva gather at the back of his throat, and was unable to spit it out, no matter how much he wanted too. The cloth that rubbed against the corners of his mouth prevented him from doing so. Itchy tickling pounded at his right shoulder, left thigh and under the right knee. The added weight of the new limbs wasn’t helping.

The silence in the room, despite the cracks and buzzes coming from the steaming machine, was heavy and terrifying. It seemed that no one dared to breathe - afraid of something unknown, unseen. 

“Get him!!!” suddenly yelled the man.

Katsuki charged forward - his palms blasting in bright colors of deadly flames. Izuku seemed to get a hold of himself and lept back at him, his body covered in glowing, green lightning. Both men roared, Kaminari flinched, ready for the expect collins but-

But instead, Bakugou flipped a metallic trolley over the green haired man. The unexpected move gave him a second to dodge, which was exactly the time needed for him to reach Kaminari. Their eyes locked and the ash blond shoved his palm, bursting the chains attached to Denki’s body. The other blond wailed in pain, the heat washing over his fragile body for a solid thirty seconds before it dissolved.

“Listen,” he tore apart the cloth on his mouth, Kaminari’s body jerked at the harsh movements. “I’ll distract them - get the fuck outta here!-” his body was yanked by a sudden grasp at his hair. Katsuki let out a restrained growl as his body was pulled and smashed on a huge screen from the side. For a brief moment the murdery crimson eyes stayed on the gold, terrified eyes, before he yelled again. “ GO !!!”

“You’re not going anywhere!” roared Izuku, but he never had the chance to pin Kaminari to the floor because an explosion forced him to dodge aside. Bakugou jostled himself, his palms burning and steaming as he landed on top of Midoriya, sending awful looking burst of fire right into his face. Ouch.

Kaminari hopped off the chair and stumbled. The strings of pain grasped into his body and he almost tripped, somehow managing to stay on his feet. 

“Don’t move-” choked out the man, backing away. The blond stared blankly at him as something exploded in the background, when it suddenly hit him.

Oh .

A smirk found its way on his chapped lips.

He is scared of his own creation.

That was a piece of very useful information. Humans were afraid of their needlework - like in those dark, sci-fi movies where machines got out of control. They attacked their masters and took over the world, getting rid of the virus of humanity. As absurd as it was, Kaminari Denki, a former pro hero, found himself in the position of a killing psychedelic machine. 

What did they do to him? He couldn’t think straight; his brain felt foggy and everything was spinning.

He couldn't think rationally.

“Or what?” taking a swaying step forward, he noticed a black leather jacket that was hanging from a stool. It was that pink haired fucker's jacket, Kaminari remembered. Did he care? No. The blond stretched out his arm and took the cloth, carelessly pulling over his shoulders.

The room was spinning. But nonchalantly, as if in a slow motion in some action movie. 

Huh… I am going to fall. The thought made him snort. He wasn't stable. 

Something, again, exploded in the background. A cry of pain was heard, but he didn't bother to look back. The only thing he saw was the doctor that tried to reach for a gun that was lying a few inches away from him. Kaminari made another step forward, lifting his bionic arm and stretching his silver fingers. 

"Nuh-uh, I d-on't th-ink so." it came out wobbly. There was a charging sound as a small hole gaped in the middle of his palm, and hot air began to swirl around it.

"No!" cried the doctor, "Don't you fucking dare-" 

"I'm…" he let out shakily, pulling his other arm to support the bionic limb. His eyes fixed on the trembling man, his face as pale as whitewash. " Angry ," a step forward, a charging sound, electricity sparkled between his fingers. 

"Wait!-" 

He didn't. 

A laser, quick and potent, was shot directly into the head of the doctor. The room illuminated with white, bright, warm light. It stopped a second later, as the body of the degenerate froze. There was a hole, between his eyes; steam curled up his head - and then he fell. 

"Ah…" Denki breathed out, shuddering. His legs stumbled and he had to lean into a chair near him, his head spinning. It had been so much time since he used his quirk for that . And it felt…. Good. Somehow, soothing the boiling swirl of fury and frustration burning inside of him. 

"You piece- piece of shit," he growled, almost falling to the floor. His legs gathered control a moment later, and he glanced to one of the screens (that Katsuki and Midoriya still hadn't ruined). Speak of the devil-

The whole room trembled and something burst. He looked behind him sharply, eyes widening as one of the walls crashed with Katsuki sent flying by a furious kick into his ribs. "Bakugou!" he called, jerking his body. 

Reality snapped back into place, freeing him from that fuzzy feeling allowing him to finally get a look at his surroundings. The place was ruined - tech objects scattered on the floor and the reek of something burning mixed with chemicals floating in the air. Blood, huge chunks of the red liquid dripped and decorated the dark room. 

Midoriya jumped after Bakugou and another loud crash echoed from somewhere outside of the building. Oh no. The two were at it. He jumped on his feet and gave a quick glance around, trying to spot the two idiots that brought him here.

He couldn't. 

However, a loud siren blared making his ears ring.

"Argh-" he let out, and then heavy footsteps hammered all over the place. He quirked his back and crossed his arms above his head. Something crumbled and a huge piece of a wall collapsed near him. No. Nope. I had enough fucking walls crushing me! 

"Stop right there!" someone roared. A shower of purple lasers attacked him. 

His reflexes were faster than his mind - he found himself dodging it immediately, rolling on the floor, hiding behind a… Whatever that big, gray, beeping thing was supposed to be. Perhaps a container? A huge container. 

"Where is that that damn thing?!" 

"Somewhere here. We have to neutralize this monster ." 

Monster

Shivers ran down his spine. Peering from his improvised hideout, he spotted at least five guards scanning the room. Their black rifles pointed in different directions. Feet stepping on the pounding ground underneath, shattering glass and metallic objects of the ruined mechanisms in the lab. 

Kaminari glanced at him palm, that wasn't steaming anymore. His previous limbs didn't allow him to use his quirk properly - they weren't electrical conductance, which meant he was limited to his right arm only. But now he could manipulate electricity through his other arm and legs. 

Kaminari's whole body. 

And the feeling? Was powerful. How long had it been since he felt as if he was in control of himself? It was as stirring as terrifying. For the first time in a while, Kaminari Denki felt like Chargebolt once again. 

Gold eyes fixed on the closest guard. He followed his movements, while the smoke dissolved. If I electrocute that machine… His gaze drifted to a gray box, on which the letter "CAUTION: Lab usage only!" were printed in bold letters.  

It took him a moment to aim his arm before he felt the hollow crack open in his paw again. Squeak sounded jarring - and he fired. The explosion followed by it was loud enough to wake the dead. Weird, green gas spread in the room like wildfire and the closest guard suddenly yelled in terror. 

"Everyone out of the room now!!!" 

Poison? Ah perfect. 

Kaminari darted forward, swinging his leg and hitting one of the fugitives guards. He heard a very unpleasant cracking sound but for some reason he didn't care. 

"Shimura!-" 

"He's dead! Don't look behind!" someone roared. But Kaminari didn't bother looking. 

He was a monster, wasn't he?

Flipping the heavily breathing guard on his back, Kaminari tore his black helmet off of his head. He kicked his gun away from his hand and pressed a metal, cold knee to his chest. One arm held a trembling arm of the man beneath him, the other was brought to his head and sparkled with electricity. 

"I have three questions. And you better answer me honestly, because believe me - I know enough about the human brain to send a current that will fry your brain for good," he threatened in stiff voice, eyes glowing in the dark room. 

The gas hissed around them, yet Kaminari didn't worry. That is, the wall was crashed, it would soon dissolve to the open air. He heard something buzzing in front of him, noticing at the corner of his eye that the doors were locked shut. 

The man Denki had trapped underneath him was paler than death. His face conveyed everything that Kaminari had felt for a year and a half.  Horror, tension, fear of fate, reluctance to die. Denial of what was bound to occur. 

"One: Where are we?" 

The man choked. Kaminari let an electrical current jump between his fingers, close enough for the guy's head to make his hair bristle. He gasped in fear; as Kaminari's blood ran cold. This wasn't who he wanted to be. 

"We- we are at one of the bases of E-TECH ." 

No denying - the blond was impressed that the man managed to speak. He was shaking like a leaf, after all. 

"Where exactly?" 

"A few- Half an hour from Musutafu. Northern." 

"Huh," he said casually, despite his heart throbbing and beating madly in his chest. "Two: What are you after?" 

"I- I don't know-" Denki let the electricity hiss right into his ear, "I really don't know!" the man cried out, turning his head to the side as his eyes were closed shut. 

"Three: Who. Is. E ." 

The man's breathing increased rapidly. His chest rose up and down with the force that made Kaminari a bit concerned. He wasn't going to kill him, obviously. All of his fury burst on the fucker that operated him less than fifteen minutes ago, plus - it wouldn't be heroic to kill an unarmed, brainwashed zombie. Kaminari wasn't that out of control. 

But the guard viewed him as if he was. The blond was never in a situation where someone was so terrified of him that he was on tenterhooks. 

What am I doing? 

A shuddered breath rolled from his lips as he slowly let go of the man. He backed away, sitting on his knees, cold sweat rolled down his forehead. I'm losing it. Going insane. Crazy. His mind again was blurred. 

A pair of watery eyes met his as the guard lifted his head. "Aren't- aren't you going to kill me?" he whispered. 

Kaminari's throat was dry. Both stared at each other in silence, before suddenly Denki pointed at the black clothes the man was wearing. "Give me your fucking pants and boots." 

"Huh?" 

"C'mon." he demanded aggressively. 

Like a good dog, the guard stripped from his uniform. Trembling arms shoved the pants, boots, belt and even a gray tank top toward Kaminari. 

"T-take it." 

"Thank you," Denki breathed out, gathering the clothes. He shot one last look at him, eyes sparkling with anger. "Get lost." 

No need to repeat himself - the man already darted to some back door Kaminari didn't notice at first. Uninterested anymore, he hurried to dress up. The clothes were loose on him, but it was better than running naked in the street. Slowly he shuffled to something that looked like a map. After scanning the page it hit him that it was, indeed, the map of Musutafu. 

Two red dots were moving rapidly against the dark screen. It gave him a headache to only look at it, but it was clear in his mind. Those were Bakugou and Midoriya, already destroying the city to rubble. 

This is fucking bad, he tried to press on the screen, surprised that it zoomed in. Ha… The Heroes Square . Ironic. Swallowing down a lump of nerves, he turned to look around, searching with his eyes something to indicate where the exit was. He found none, thus his eyes fixed on the huge hole that lead into the forest. Guess time to fly. 

Glancing down at his legs, he observed the boots. Those weren't going to survive. 

Kaminari took a deep breath and trudged to the edge of the wall, scanning the area. He felt shifting in his feet, as heat made the floor melt. Gas burst from there and his body jolted, barely holding itself as he hovered an inch over the ground. Then took another deep breath, just in case it was going to be his last one - and jumped. 


Katsuki's back cried out in pain as his body was slammed mercilessly against a wall. 

He choked, a stream of saliva and blood shot out of his mouth. Crimson eyes tried to fix on the unclear image in front of them - and manage to do so a second before Midoriya threw his fist right into his torso. 

Explosions blasted from his palms and his body pitched to the side. He pushed from the wall and landed on the road, rolling a few inches before stopping himself. His head span, but he found easily a pair of green glowing eyes staring at him from behind the wall of smoke. 

People yelled in horror as the wall crackled. Midoriya landed in front of him, ignoring the screams of the pathetic extras around them. Katsuki ignored them too, as he stood up: breathing heavily, sweat rolling down his face and neck. Blood leaked from every possible place on both men, neither sure whose was whose. 

"I always knew there was a reason why I didn’t like you," spat Bakugou, shifting on his feet. 

"Kachan, you don't understand." 

A nerve ticked in his head, "Don't understand what?!" he roared and charged, shoving a flaming hand into Midoriya's beaten up face. The pro hero arched his back and swung his leg, trying to hit him. But Katsuki didn't let him - instead he wriggled his body and threw the green head to the side. 

Midoriya cried in pain and crashed into the street, "Let me explain!" 

"Then explain!" the blond landed on top of him and slammed his fist against Izuku's jaw. The symbol of peace gasped, spitting blood, and then his arm shone in green lights. 

On the last second, Bakugou dodged the blow - but not entirely. The blast hit him in the ribs, followed by a minor cracking sound. He rolled back, somehow finishing on his feet, grasping into his torso. "Son of a bitch-" 

Midoriya, like a bull, smashed his head into him. Both men flew back, right into some building behind them. The pain throbbed, his back arched and the wind was knocked out of his lungs as Midoriya hammered his potent fists against his midsection. 

A kick into his stomach was the finishing touch of that silhouette of punches. Bakugou greeted his teeth, body smearing against ruins of said wall, blood flowed from him as if he was a fountain. 

Cocking his head up, he tried to spot Midoriya through the blurred image of his surroundings. The green head stood a few meters ahead of him, in a position of someone who was ready for knockout. Katsuki growled, feeling it vibrating painfully in his beaten throat. 

"I really don't want to do this Kachan," he spoke quietly, body enveloped by red and green lights, "But you leave me no choice." 

Why wasn't his body moving? 

Ever since the Shigaraki Incidence he felt as if his body sometimes refused to move. To cooperate. As if he wasn't the owner of himself. Now, was one of those moments. Simply, he couldn’t force himself to run anymore. 

Katsuki was drained. 

Izuku shifted back, his arm flowing as air began swirling there. His eyes glowed, widening with rage and blood lust the blond had never seen on him before. Yet, he couldn't respond. He was ready to take the killing move. 

There was a bright light as he heard the air whistling in his ears. Everything flashed as a sudden jarring collision exploded in his ear drums. Smoke arose, like lava, making his hair jolt back and forced him to cross his arms above his head so that dust and stones wouldn't hit his face. 

"What the-" he heard Midoriya squeaking in surprise. 

Puzzled, Katsuki slowly shook off his dusty frame and lifted his head. His crimson eyes began rounding and his breath was stuck in his throat, as a familiar figure appeared in front of him - blocking the mighty hit of the number one pro hero, with one metal arm.

Chapter Text

Wow, okay, that fucking hurts

His fingers trailed up and down the fresh stitches on the right side of his hip. Eyes narrowed in discomfort, body heavy from the anesthesia: Hitoshi cursed the Gods, or whoever was up there, that decided it would be fun to murder his kidney.

Mind still fuzzy, he somehow found the small tube attached to his arm and slowly unscrewed it; letting the liquid drip onto the floor. There was no one in the room to stop him, thus he slowly lifted himself into a sitting position, leaning with his back to the wall. His head spun, he massaged his aching temples and took in a deep breath. He had no idea what time it was, how much time he was here, and what exactly had happened - he just knew that he had to get out of the hospital and rush after Denki.

Standing up was a task he almost couldn’t take. The moment his feet hit the ground and he stood up, he almost stumbled. After he stabilized himself by leaning on the wall, Shinsou shook his head aggressively and cleared the fog enveloping his mind, trying to concentrate on the blurry image ahead of him-

When suddenly an explosion shook the place.

Violet eyes widened in a momental terror, Shinsou shot his gaze to the window, noticing smoke rising up a few blocks away. A moment later, green lightning jabbed the air, and then a building was shook as something hit the road with a huge blast. The whole building trembled again, making him almost actually fall to the floor.

What the fuck-

Screams were heard from the street. The channel of the news that was playing on the TV above his head suddenly changed from news about the weather to an image of a half ripped street. This time, the purple haired man fixed his eyes on the screen, trying to ignore the gathering panic inside of him.

Because explosions, green lighting, and stuff getting wrecked, reminded him of a few people.

A reporter appeared on the screen, with puffed blonde hair and red, swollen lips. She held papers between her fingers, as a video square appeared on the screen next to her. There, a wall of steam, from which suddenly charged Katsuki and hit Izuku right in the face. Both men flew to the side, but Midoriya wriggled at the last moment and crashed Bakugo’s back into the wall.

Hitoshi’s mouth fell agape. What had happened in those few hours he had passed out? Why were Midoriya and Bakugou fighting? Where was Kirishima? What happened after he got shot? Where is Kaminari?

Dragging his mind back with some difficulty, Shinsou forced himself to focus on whatever the reporter was saying, because this was his best clue about whatever was happening.

“... And just now, we received a report that Ground Zero and Deku are fighting in the street of Musutafu. The reason is unknown, though some witnesses claim to hear them arguing about something. However, it seems that none of them can get a hold of the situation, as for both of them being powerful.

“There’s no report about hurt civilians and the police already evacuated the block. Expect of a few crashed walls and cars, and a huge pit in the middle of the road, it seems that everything is more or less still standing. Keep up with us in order to-

"Ah! What was that?! Did Deku just overpowered Ground Zero?!” Hitoshi’s heart thrilled as the video zoomed at Katsuki, that was smeared on a remainders of a wall, heavily breathing. His clothes were torn and blood dripped down his body. “It seems that Deku is telling him something! Oh no, is he going to kill his fellow?! There’s still no-”

And then, the video drew the image of Deku charging at full speed and power toward the paralyzed blonde. Shinsou gasped, almost yelling Bakugo’s name in horror as he watched and understood he could do nothing to help his friends, because it was impossible physically - when suddenly there was a burst.

It was heard all the way up to his hospital room. Metal clashing against a pontent fist that only Deku was mighty enough to throw. Smoke arose and the camera glitched for a moment, as Shinsou’s heart burst out of his chest. Did he hit Bakugou? Or did something else happened? He hoped so much that the situation couldn’t get worse.

“What was that?!” called the lady on the screen, dropping the pile of papers in her hands. Another paper was shoved her from somewhere out of the camera’s range, as on the video screen a blurry image of a figure appeared. “Is this- Oh my God! Who would have believed!”

The moment the smoke dissolved, a huge, silver shield appeared on the screen. It was sparkling under the luminance of the street lights, blinding a bit. He froze, Hitoshi stared at it confused, his heart hammering in his chest. Then, it shifted and began slowly folding into itself, until it was formed into a metallic arm - and a familiar face appeared from behind it.

“Chargedbolt!” called the woman, at the same time as the door of the hospital swung open.

Shinsou’s body jerked and he turned his head sharply, his eyes falling on Kirishima. He was standing at the entrance, face pale for some reason, a nervous smile tugged at his lips. In his hand, rested a gun. Shinsou recognized that gun very well, it was his safe gun that was taken from him. Probably for the operation. Narrowing his eyes, he suspiciously backed away, not paying any attention to the TV despite being highly intrigued.

“H-hands up,” let out the red head, entering the room, as he turned the gun at him. Was he not aware that it wasn’t a real gun? “Go- go back to the bed, Shinsou.”

“Kirishima, what’s going on?” he let out instead, unfazed. His head wasn’t spinning anymore, and he managed to focus on his surroundings.

“I said,” breathed out Eijirou, pointing the gun at him. “Get. In. The. Bed.”

Licking his lips, the purple head tilted his head. His fingers touched again the place with the stitches. It would open up if he would do sharp moves, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. Kirishima was acting weird, though he suspected that something was fishy with the guy for quite a while; and he had to run to the scene. And fast.

Sorry, buddy. “Kirishima, I always suspected that something was off with you,” he started, slowly stepping forward. There was a small clicking sound as Eijirou got turned safety off. “Guess I was right.”

“You- you have no fucking idea, Shinsou. I’m not going to let you ruin everything!” suddenly yelled the red head, his eyes wide with terror. “Back away right now!”

“Why would I?”

“Because-”

Shinsou smirked, as Kirishima froze. “Dumbass,” he hissed, approaching the man that was now under his control. “I have no idea, that’s right,” tearing the gun off of his hands, Shinsou took a deep breath. “Outta my way. Now.”


Smoke dissolved into the open air, as something cracked in Kaminari’s ears.

His body was shaking, but his new bionic legs were planted firmly into the scattered ground underneath. His bionic, left arm shoved in front of him, taking back the form of an arm from the shield it just opened. His eyes round, filled with utter terror because-

Because he noticed in mid air that Midoriya was about to make a mashed Bakugou, he darted in without thinking.

Call it a heroic instinct. Old damn habit he couldn’t get rid off.

To say that he knew his arm would open into a shield? No, he couldn't. That was a surprise for him. He was ready to face a fist that would clash him and explode his inner organs to rubble but instead he was met by a puzzled look from the green haired hero, who was standing a few inches away, and holding his fist as if it was actually painful for him to hit the said shield.

“Kaminari,” the pro hero let out hesitantly, shifting in his place. “Already using your new limbs? Impressive.”

Kaminari wanted to yell at him that he had no idea what just happened, what he was doing and why. That the fear was hitting his last brain cell and telling him to run away, while a weird psychosis wanted to make him laugh because the situation was a one, huge absurd mess. 

That he was so fucked and fed up with bullshit that it was painful to think about it. His mind wasn't rational, he couldn't think straight, sanity was snatched away as if it never existed in the first place.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat instead, clenching both of his fists, “What the fuck is all of this, Midoriya? What are you doing? Why?” so many questions, so many things he needed to scream at the green haired man without knowing if he was responsible for that. 

Kaminari’s head hurt.

Hell, he was still shocked he had actually made it in time.

Coughing came from behind his back and he heard shiftings. He noticed Izuku glancing behind his shoulders and let himself glance back too, noticing Katsuki slowly pushing himself to his legs. He was paler than death, body shaking and moved sluggishly. It wasn’t fear what displayed in his eyes, but terror and misunderstanding.

The situation was getting more bizarre each second passing by.

“You two won’t last long without your meds,” said the green haired hero, ignoring Kaminari. His body was shining in green light, “So that’s why I’m here. To bring both of you to receive your treatment. Surrender now and the two of you won’t get hurt anymore, I promise.”

“Or else what?” Bakugou seemed to gather himself, scowling at their old friend as he stomped to stand near Kaminari. He noticed how heavily Bakugo was breathing, all smeared with blood and mud.

Kaminari had never seen Midoriya making this face: pure irritation, eyes reflecting annoyance that was gathered there for a long period of time. He guessed it was the grudge he held toward his old bully. Not noticing, lifted his arm and spread ahead of Katsuki, shooting the pro hero the most threatening glare he could master. He didn’t care what was going on, but he wasn’t going to let Midroiya, or whoever stood in front of them, hurt Bakugou.

“I’ll have to neutralize you.”

Despite the tough facade both of the men were playing, Kaminari was highly aware of the fact that Midoriya had the advantage. 

Kaminari had his old limbs replaced with new ones, sure, but he had almost no control over - he had never had the chance to fight a real battle using his prosthetic limbs ever since he got them. Which meant, a year and a half. It was the same amount of time since he had retired, which meant he wasn’t in the shape of a pro hero, even if he really wanted too.

In addition, he also hadn’t used his quirk for a very long time. More correctly, hadn’t used it in the battle field. His quirk acted weird ever since he retired, which he suspected had something to do with the medication he was taking; but it didn’t get rid of the fact that even if his quirk was alright now, he still wasn't sure how well he could use it. And going over his wattage limit now was the worst case scenario.

Katsuki was a whole new problem. 

The words Midoriya said, about both of them not lasting long, and what the doctor that operated him had said: “... I thought that he was talking about the other blond. What was his name…” and then that weirdo with the pink hair mentioned Bakugou. Kaminari didn’t like that. It meant that…

That Bakugou was somehow involved in this mess too. But it seemed that he had no clue about it, and was confused nonetheless.

"I’d like to see you try!" roared Katsuki and darted before Denki had the chance to breathe.

And once again, explosion boomed in the place. 

Denki noticed the fire before Katsuki was thrown harshly against a wall. Izuku lifted a broken car and tossed it as if it was a beach ball at the ash blond, who burst it with another explosion. Then, the green haired man turned and leapt at Kaminari who wasn't ready. 

His reflexes acted ahead of him and he crossed his arms as the huge man collided with his much smaller frame. They flew back into the ruins, and Denki was crushed underneath Izuku's heavy figure. The air was knocked out of his lungs. 

Turned out that being smashed by a big man, on a surface contained of breaks and sharp metals, wasn't the best life experience. 

Denki gasped in pain and blocked the fist directed to him. Midoriya was pressing harder and clasped his fingers around Kaminari's throat. Gold eyes widened, body jerking as a death grip was formed around his neck. 

"Stop fighting me!" yelled Midoriya, tugging harder. Kaminari breathed out sharply, his ears buzzed - and then Midoriya screamed in pain as electricity hit both of them and made the green haired man jump back, escaping the shock directed at him. 

On the exact same moment, Katsuki appeared from behind and slammed his foot against Deku's head. He caught him and threw right into a broken remaining of a wall. Kaminari didn't miss the way his legs almost folded when he landed on the ground. 

"Bakugou-" he choked out, pushing himself to stand. The unprepared discharge made his heart heavy and the whole world spun for a moment. 

"Listen," whispered Bakugou, as he pulled Kaminari to stand. The blond forced himself to concentrate on Bakugou’s blurry image. "He's right, we both won't hold any longer. We need to find a way to retreat, escape, whatever. We can't win this fight." 

Was it Bakugou speaking? 

Did Bakugou freaking Katsuki, Ground fucking Zero - say that they needed to retreat? 

Kaminari had to fight gravity so it wouldn't push down his jaw. "Why-" 

There was a sound of metal hitting the ground as both men froze; and watched Deku's figure pulling itself to his fit and shaking off the little stones. Wiping away his blood, a pair of glowing, green eyes met their own, staring at them. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Kaminari rocked on his feet, everything blurring again for a moment. 

And then, suddenly, something whistled in his ears. Katsuki jerked him, pulling him harshly aside - before something suddenly grasped into his arm. He yelled, body was lifted up and then smashed aggressively into a wall. He choked, blood mixed with saliva shooting out of his mouth. 

He fell to the ground and tried to flip on his back. But it was sharply cut but something- no, someone landing atop of him, and then: a barrel, followed by the shape of gun, appeared in front of his eyes. 

The reaction, once again, was his reflexes'. He shoved his metal arm and emitted electricity without thinking before the gun user could have even pressed the trigger. A scream was heard and then his legs kicked his attacker, moving on their own. 

Kaminari didn't know if he was controlling his body or it was past-Chargebolt who was moving, but it helped him to not get shot. 

Rolling from behind the whoever , he jumped on his feet, forcing his eyes to fix on the man. 

Pink hair. 

A rifle instead of a hand. 

That fucker. 

Anger exploded in his chest. He wanted to kick and strangle him, break every bone in his body - but then something that really looked like hair, caught the body that he just shocked and pulled back. His eyes followed the movement and he noticed that girl, whatever her name was, pulling the pink haired guy while dodging one of Katsuki’s explosions.

“Who are you?!” yelled the ash blond, flipping in the air and landing a few inches ahead of Kaminari.

For the first time, Kaminari had a good look at Midoriya, the pink haired punk, and the tan skinned girl. Both were wearing black uniforms, like those he saw on the guard in the lab, with the logo of E-TECH printed on their left side of the chest. 

The guy’s quirk was that he was a human-gun; she had… Ridiculously long and strong hair? Seemed like that, he couldn’t say for sure.

He just knew that he was mad and that he wanted to blast their asses off.

How? Good question.

“Back up’s here,” she called, receiving a nod from Izuku.

The punk coughed, “Christ, what’s up with your quirk? If fucking hurts.”

“Can’t win against us alone, so you’re calling you friends, huh?” insulted Bakugou, though his voice was hoarse and could barely stand on his feet, making Kaminari worried.

If they couldn’t handle Midroiya alone, how would they fight three of them?!

“Please,” let out Midoriya, clenching his fists, “You’re outnumbered, don’t make us-”

Suddenly, something again whistled in Kaminari’s ears. This time, it came from behind. He turned sharply, not before he noticed the splash of blood coming from Deku’s shoulder. The green head didn’t expect that, his companions too, because he was obviously caught off guard. Squeaking, he grasped his shoulder, as Kaminari’s head made almost a 180 degree turn from the terror because-

Oh no they couldn’t handle another enemy.

“Outnumbered? As far as I know, three versus three is fair.”

Kaminari froze. That voice. He recognized him.

The smoke behind them, mixed with dust, made it hard to see exactly who was heading in their direction. But it was a buffed up figure, walking over with a slight limp and messy purple hair on top of his head. Kaminari’s heart stuttered as relief washed over him and something bubbled in his chest.

“Shinsou?!”

“But we-” he heard the girl choking from behind.

“Yeah yeah, just murdered my fucking kidney. It’s not like I need it anyway,” spat Shinsou as he reached Kaminari. His face was red, sweat rolled down his forehead and nape; stains of blood appeared above his hip, tarnishing the hospital gown hugging his muscular body. “Sorry it took so long, had to make a stop,” he said, patting the rifle hanging from his shoulder, God where did he get that?

“Shinsou…?” Deku looked startled for a moment. “What- since when-”

“Suspected you two for a long fucking time, Midoriya. You and Kirishima…” Shinsou trailed off, eyeing Bakugou, who suddenly froze, the color draining from his face. “Huh, so how ‘bout we end your little game once and for all?”

“What do you know?” hissed Midoriya.

Kaminari shot Shinsou an alarmed look. But by this point, he completely lost it, not sure what, why, who, where-

Not really controlling his movements, Kaminari tried to back away from Shinsou as sudden fear grasped into him. Was Shinsou working behind his back too? Was he trying to help Midoriya? Should he just zap him, grab Bakugou and get the fuck out of-

“Don’t move,” whispered Shinsou. He wasn’t looking at Kaminari but instead Bakugou. The panic prevented him from understanding what was going on, and his heart beat like a drum. It was painful. Breathing became a hard task, his mind foggy. But he obeyed, not sure what else to do.

The purple haired hero stared at the ash blond for a solid thirty seconds before suddenly Bakugou nodded. Kaminari was surprised he actually managed to notice this slight head movement in his state of trepidation.

“What do I know, you ask?” he said casually, “Nuh, not much.” the hero turned towards Midoriya. “I just know that I will fucking destroy you and that fucking project!” yelled Shinsou, eyes blasting with flames of rage.

Midoriya breathed out. “How do you-”

“You forgot to who you’re talking to, huh, scum? Do you really think I didn’t notice what you were doing?”

“Shinsou I-”

Midoriya’s expression turned blank. Suddenly Kaminari was pushed back by Shinsou, who lifted his rifle and shot blindly. “Bakugou now!!!”

The ash blonde roared and slammed his palms against the ground, making one of the greatest explosions Kaminari had ever seen. The ruins around them flew into the air, floor trampled from the blast as smoke covered the whole place; followed by stench of burnt chemicals and ashes.

There were distant screaming popping in his ears.

Kaminari was forced into movement before he even understand what happened. His legs obeyed the yank and he began running, everything turning black and white and mashing into colors of discord and-

Once again he was pulled, but he was unable to see where exactly.

Suddenly, he felt himself being shoved into some closed space. His buttocks hit a soft surface, words were thrown in the air but didn’t reach his ears. His head then hit something, not so soft, and he cried out but it wasn’t louder than a shaky whisper.

A sound of grinding wheels. His body jerking from a sudden movement. Something caught his slouching frame and he suddenly found himself smearing on something… Warm.

Fingers crawled into his messy, sticky hair. Then, a whisper echoed in his ears.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” and with that he let his eyes fell shut, in an attempt to believe the statement.

Chapter Text

How he made it in time was a mystery, as was how was he even alive.

Hitoshi was sure he should be dead. When he grabbed Kirishima’s car he ripped open his stitches, so, maybe he was bleeding to death the whole time and this was all just a mass hallucination. 

Tearing off a strip of his hospital gown, he wrapped it around the wound to stop the bleeding. Hissing in pain, he bit on his lower lip, narrowing his eyes. Yet, he forced his attention to Kaminari next to him, that was looking on the verge of fainting. Not really thinking, after making another tug on the wound, Hitoshi lifted his arm and ruffled his hair.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

It felt dumb as it rolled on his tongue.

“Are you fucking sure?” growled Bakugou form the driver’s seat, as he turned to a side street, speeding down the road way past the speed limit. It didn’t matter, though. They barely made it out alive and now needed to get the fuck out of this cursed city before their attackers would track them down.

“No, everything’s shit but I’m trying to prevent a panic attack here so shut the fuck up," Hitoshi spat back at him, making one last tug on his makshift bandage that knocked the wind out of his burning lungs. Then, he got rid of the snatched rifle, placing it near his legs; and turned to look at Kaminari.

He was bleeding from several places, but nothing too serious. His blond hair dirty and sticking up from all directions from the static energy still surrounding him. Shinsou couldn’t deny the fact it was cute. Shoving the thought away, he reached to grab his palm and squeezed it tightly.

It took a moment before the blond let out a breath, indicating he was still, kind of, sort of alive. Then he turned his haggard gaze slowly, meeting Shinsou with a pair of moist eyes, blinking a few times; as if he was unsure what he was doing. 

Then it hit him and he suddenly jerked, ducking and curling into the farthest point of the back seat, trying to escape Hitoshi. For a moment his heart stuttered but then reminded himself of what he had done back there and how it must have looked for Kaminari. 

“I guess I owe you an explanation," he offered, but it came out wobbly. 

“Yeah, before I throw you outta my fucking car.”

“Thanks for the support,” Shinsou hissed at Katsuki, before reaching out once again for the terrified blond that was staring at him with a pale face. 

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m not actually working with them, okay? Take a deep breath," Shinsou spoke with the softest voice he could manage. 

“Then- then what was that?” Kaminari choked out; voice trembling. At least he finally spoke.

“Huh, well…” he had to hide the disappointment that Denki still didn’t reach out to grab his hand, thus he simply spread on the back seat, sighing heavily. "I woke up in the hospital and your fight was all over the news," he began, after the pain ceased a bit. "Kirishima burst into the room, telling me to back off and not interfere and that I'm going to ruin everything. I have no idea what the fuck he was talking about so I brainwashed him and hurried to you," he stopped to force down a groan of pain. 

For some reason none of them reacted, and it worried him that Bakugou didn't even flinch when he mentioned Kirishima. "Then I stole this gun from a police officer and took Kirishima’s car. I found you two and you looked kinda dead to me so I blurted the first thing that came to my mind, and it worked. I didn't really expect it to work but guess we’re lucky? 

"I don't know what the fuck any of the shit I said mean but I guess I got some stuff right. Or maybe Midoriya just panicked, who knows," he finished with a shrug, glancing once again at Kaminari. 

Silence spread there like mines in a field. He shifted uncomfortably, not sure if this was the sign that he somehow lost their trust in him; which wasn't good at all. Or, perhaps, they were digesting painfully slow what he had just told him. 

He couldn't judge them. They were shocked, lost. And he had no idea what exactly happened the whole time he was passed out. Deciding not to push it and to give them some time to collect themselves, Shinsou averted his eyes to look out of the window. 

They were riding for less than ten minutes. It was weird that no one was chasing them, but he decided to bring it up later. Perhaps their attackers retreated too; after all, the fuss made around the Symbol of Peace and the Symbol of Power was enough to agitate Japan.

After another ten minutes or so of heavy silence, the adrenaline rush in his veins started to fizzle away little by little. Pain flooded his body, forcing him to let out a restrained groan and press the wound again. His head was spinning a bit, vision blurry, throat sore and dry. 

Losing a lot of blood could do that to a man, but he wasn’t the only one that looked on the verge of dying, thus he found himself pushing his heavy body against the sit in front of him and patting Bakugou's shoulders. 

"The moment we reach the outskirts, let's stop somewhere and buy some first aid kit shit and food. I don't want us to die and we need to get some energy back," he said in a stiff voice, because he was Shinsou Hitoshi and that guy wasn't familiar with softness and showing care. But Bakugou wasn't too, it was alright. 

"Sure."

"Good idea," let out Denki, his voice still shaky but better. Shinsou shifted back, not wanting to put too much pressure on the wound, and glanced at the blond once again. 

Their gazes met, and to his surprise: Denki smiled. It was a small curl of his lips, barely a smile honestly, but his eyes softened in a way that indicated that yes. It would get better. Somehow. 

Warmness tickled in his chest, yet he didn't return the smile. Not physically, at least.


They continued the ride in silence until they reached an abandoned motel, thirty minutes away from Musutafu. 

They looked like a trio from a shounen manga that just finished fighting the main antagonist. All of them bleeding, pale, limping, worn out, dead tired and angry . As Shinsou went to book a room, Bakugou volunteered to search for a pharmacy and a place to buy them some food; Kaminari simply trailed behind Shinsou. 

The blond was noticeably uncomfortable in his own skin. He fidgeted and massaged the places where his bionic limbs were connected to his exhausted body, but said nothing. 

Luckily, or to their dismay, the only available three bed bedroom was a family room. Which meant, one large bed for the parents, and one twin sized bed for their kid. They were too tired to care, silently paid for their room and shuffled out of the lobby.

Bakugou was the first one to crash. He trudged straight down the hall to a side room, where the single bed lied, kicked off his shoes and collapsed on top of the sheets; burying his face into the pillow. The sound of soft snoring echoed a moment later. 

There was a small corridor with a closet, that led to a room with a double bed. A big window on the other side, in which was viewed the tangled forest and the road, and the moon reflected from above. To the left was the bathroom, and when continuing down the hall, was a half room with the single bed that was already claimed by a sleeping Katsuki. 

Shinsou picked up the bags of food and medicine Bakugou had previously threw on the floor, groaning in pain as he did so. 

"I need a shower," bemoaned the blond, plopping down on the double sized bed. He kicked off the ruined boots from his feet, stretching his legs.

"And I need some fucking painkillers," he muttered, finding himself lying across from the still bloody golden eyed man. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as his back met the soft surface of the mattress. 

"Gimme some too, please." 

Shinsou fished the package of painkillers out of the bag, as well as a bottle of water. He tossed a pill and the water bottle to the blond first, letting him chug it down; then did the same. Shoving the supplies to the floor, Shinsou collapsed on the other side of the bed, shoulders bumping into Kaminari's. 

Violet, tired eyes were planted to the ceiling, as he stabilized his breath. From the corner of his eye he noticed the blond turned his head to look at him. 

"Your kidney…" 

"Died, yeah. Nothing serious."

Kaminari chuckled dryly. "Well, I guess that's why we have two." 

"I guess so..." he sighed heavily. "I gotta redress my stitches before it starts bleeding again." 

"That's a good idea." 

"Yeah," but he really didn't want to move. Kaminari's body was so warm next to his and he found himself enjoying being next to the blond. 

Shinsou didn't move. Their slow breaths were perfectly synced: for the first time since a few days he felt like he could stop and breathe. Eyes rounded at the realization that it had been only four days since this shit show had begun; it felt as if a full eternity passed. So much had happened. 

"Okay," Kaminari broke the comfortable atmosphere and sat up. But judging by his red face, Shinsou was the only one who felt comfortable. "This is fucking awkward and I can't take it anymore, sorry." 

"Awkward?" the purple head quirked an eyebrow, arms folded on his stomach and scarred fingers tangled into each other. 

"Dude," breathed out Kaminari, squinting at him. "You- we almost- fuck- ugh."

Blinking, it took him a second before he suddenly realized what Kaminari meant to say. A snort escaped his throat before he gathered control over himself. "Seriously? We almost died and that's what's on your mind?" 

Denki's already red face was now colored in a dark shade of crimson. He gawked dumbly, and once again Hitoshi couldn't deny the fact that he was adorable. Even when he was worn out, dirty, dried blood decorated his face, visible body parts, like Christmas lights. Blues and purples spread on him like chickenpox. A typical sight of a pro hero after a fight for his life. 

Hitoshi forced himself to sit with some difficulty and faced the blond. Though, gold eyes were averted from his and planted on the floor. Chuckling again, as softly as he could, Hitoshi lifted his hand and cupped his round, sticky from sweat and mud, cheek. 

"You can say we already kissed." 

Denki finally looked at him, mouth agape. "Ah?!" 

Shinsou lifted the bottle and tingled it, grinning mockingly at the startled blond. 

"That- that doesn't count, just bros drinking from a bottle, it's totally-" the only thing Hitoshi was able to do was to lean in and press his chapped lips against Kaminari's equally chapped lips. It was quick, dry, but the heat bounced between them with some electrical currents crackling between their lips as they parted. 

"Sorry," he wasn't, "Just finished what I started." 

Kaminari looked like a stray kitten that was fed with delicious fish for the first time in his life. His pupils blown, mouth agape and he was frozen. But Shinsou couldn't not smirk, warmness washing over him. He had no idea what that feeling was, but he was a spontaneous person who didn't tend to think things through. 

Perhaps that was his main problem but he knew that he wasn't going to regret this. 

When no response came, he tapped his cold fingertips on Kaminari's warm cheek and leaned to plant another kiss, this time longer, fuller, not just a small, shocking peck. 

Shuddered breaths were carried by the wind as they parted. The look Kaminari gave him was confused, as if he wasn't sure wherever it was a dream or not. The purple head found himself pushing the blond back on the bed, leaning on top of him.

Their lips met again, the passion bubbling between them. He had no idea whether love was involved, or admiration of some sort, but it was a nice stress relief. He couldn’t say that he loved Kaminari, though, after all they were almost complete strangers to begin with. 

However, something about Denki made him curious. He found himself desperate to touch and feel the other man, to devour his lips and nip at the soft looking flesh. The irony was that he never was a touchy-feely type of person. However, with Denki, it was the opposite for what it seemed.

In any case, the blond was considered attractive, pretty even, and it was a fact. Meaning, Shinsou did remember that before Kaminari retired he also had a side job as a model.

So perhaps it was just lust. Neither of them seemed to mind, though. 

"You stink," Denki suddenly blurted. The moment he realized what left his lips he exploded with another wave of embarrassment and covered his face, squeaking. "Shit- sorry that's not what I wanted to say!" 

Since when was the last time Hitoshi had genuinely laughed, it had felt like forever? Interesting, abnormal phenomenon in its finest. Yet he found himself giggling like an idiot, taking Kaminari's wrists and pulling his hands off of his tomato face.

"Don't worry, you stink too."

"Fuck you."

"I can do that to you, if you want." 

"Shinsou-" Kaminari choked out, making the purple haired man snicker slyly. 

It was fun and reliving, Denki was so easy to tease and he was fucking adorable, but he also had a valid point. They needed to clean themselves, treat their wounds, eat and rest. And perhaps take care of Bakugou so he wouldn’t die while he was in his sleep. 

"You can go first," he said, changing the subject casually, pushing himself off of the blond. 

It took Kaminari a moment to reboot, before he nodded and hopped off the bed. Already tearing his shirt off of himself, he shuffled towards the bathroom and peered inside, Shinsou following him with his eyes. 

"Shit," groaned. 

"What happened?" Hitoshi pushed himself to stand, walking to the blond and peering after him. 

The bathroom wasn't big. There was a shower, a toilet and a sink. Basic bathroom, Shinsou saw no problem at all. 

"Is there a taburet somewhere?" turning on his feet, Kaminari walked a full circle around the room. "God dammit, wait I'll go ask for a taburet or a stool that I can sit on while showering," rambled the man, dragging his shirt back on him. 

Shinsou felt dumb as he asked, "Why do you need one?" 

"I'm not sure how waterproof are those, and I finally have an arm. Not gonna ruin ‘em right after I got them," Denki answered simply. He took the magnet card and shoved to his pocket. "Be right back." 


Shinsou peered through the door, blinking. "You alive?" he asked playfully, as Kaminari jolted in a momentary panic. 

"Can’t you knock?!" cried out the blond, flinching. 

He was naked, seated on the taburet he brought earlier. His blond hair slicked back from the water, body finally clean from all the dirt and blood. A white towel was placed on his thighs, covering his lower midsection. Some water drops dripped down his strained muscles. 

The bionic limbs were placed neatly at the edge of the sink. 

For the first time, Hitoshi saw Denki without his bionic limbs, not just his arm. The parts where they were connected to were swollen and red. It looked painful. 

Kaminari was always on the smaller side, but now he looked even tinier. Shinsou wondered how light he was, without the weight of the limbs.

"Sorry, just wanted to bring you clean clothes." 

Denki's expression turned puzzled. "And where did you get those?" he snorted, as Hitoshi entered the bathroom and came closer to him with a pair of new boxers, sweatpants and a white hoodie. 

"Well, you took your sweet time showering-" 

"Have you ever tried bathing with one goddamn arm?!" 

"I'm teasing, chill. I went on a short walk to check out the place, and found a thrift shop, it’s not the best quality, but it'll do," Shinsou shrugged, towering above the blond that looked at him with a small, grateful smile from beneath. "I grabbed the boxers from a small boutique across the street. I wasn't sure what's your size so sorry if it's too big?"

"Thank you, it's alright. I'm happy with anything," the blond chuckled. "That's really fucking sweet of you." 

"Shut up," Shinsou huffed, standing awkwardly. "So uh, where should I put it?" 

"Anywhere’s fine. I'm currently gathering the willpower to put my new prosthetics on; it's gonna be a while." 

"Why?" 

"I'm tired, and it fucking hurts. They're new, I'm not used to them, and they're uncomfortable and- ugh," he exhaled dramatically. Shinsou took a moment to wreck his exhausted mind around the situation, and then suddenly kneeled in front of Kaminari. "Sh-Shinsou?" squeaked the blond, face flushing once again as he tried to back away but couldn't. 

"I can dress you up and carry to bed, don't worry," he said, placing the clothes on the floor. He took out the underwear and brought to his lean legs- well, remaining of legs; looking up to meet his gaze. Denki chewed on his lower lip, but didn't object. 

When he pushed the underwear up to his thighs, Shinsou slipped the sweatpants, and the hoodie on. Taking the end of his trousers and boxers, he pulled them up together, while picking up Kaminari. He expected Kaminari to be light, but not that light. He almost made the blond fly with the sharp movement he made, expecting the weight of a much heavier body.

"Done," he smirked, letting himself playfully pat Kaminari’s butt as he lifted him in his arms; cradling like a koala. 

The towel dropped to the floor. 

"That was so fucking embarrassing," whined the blond, ducking his head into the socket between Shinsou's neck and shoulder. 

"Dunno," he shrugged, making his way to the bed. He dropped Kaminari there, staring at him with a satisfied grin. 

"You're surprisingly good at dressing someone,” huffed Denki, smearing on the bed.

“I’m even better at un dressing them,” Hitoshi winked.

“Smooth, aren’t we?” snickered Denki. They fell silent for a moment, sharing soft gazes with half lidded eyes, until Kaminari cleared his throat. "Sorry but, can you please tie the pants where my legs end? It's just… more comfortable for me."

"Uh, sure," he sat down, actually unsure what did it mean. He slid his fingers under Denki's thigh and grabbed the cloth, twisting it. "Like that?" 

"Yeah, just a simple knot." 

"Hm," hummed, as he worked on the knot. "The sleeve, too?" 

"Nuh, just the pants. Thanks." 

"No problem," crawling up, Hitoshi let himself press another kiss on Denki's lips. They were just so soft and inviting, and the fact that the blond didn't protest was also comforting. "How's your heart?" he suddenly asked, as in his memory clashed all of the events in the past few days like a turmoil of madness. 

Denki's expression darkened abruptly. Hitoshi knew he wasn't stable, and that usually too much pressure caused heart attacks. They didn't need Denki's heart to stop again, he didn't even want to think about it. 

"Beating," the blond finally let out. Shinsou didn't miss how his right arm was placed on his chest, on the place where stretched a horrible, pink scar, remained from his heart surgeries. There was a vague memory of a conversation with Mina about a few months ago. 

"That's good," he whispered, and then stood up. "I'm gonna go take a shower before we treat our wounds. Should I wake up Bakugou, too?" he asked, trying to light up the moody atmosphere spreading between them. 

"Nah, let him sleep for now." 

Hitoshi nodded, while peeling off the remainings of the hospital gown.