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When Denki had taken this task, this duty on - he hadn't expected this to happen.
Hell, none of them had.
The way his electricity stuttered, the bolts flickering as they wrapped across his fingers and palms, sending his veins alight with the energy from his quirk, unrestrained.
The way his golden eyes never left his target, a snarl etched upon the others face. A look all too familiar, all too daunting.
The way calls of his name fell on deaf ears from behind. The way that Kaminari Denki was the last one standing.
When he shouldn't be.
"Denki, come say hello to this kind man, would you?" his mothers snappish tone shook the young fourteen-year-old boy from his thoughts, the child holding back a yelp as his mother yanked his arm.
His father, a stone-cold expression already taking place on his long face, stood next to them, stopping the blond from escaping, if he tried.
Denki bit his lip as the trio carefully ambled along, old floorboards creaking under every footfall as the silhouette before them grew bigger and more clear. The electric-quirked boy suppressed a shudder that threatened to roll down his back, instead trying to take in his surroundings; not that it gave much away.
He'd barely questioned his parents when they'd all but dragged him from his bedroom, thrown into their run-down box of a car, and taking off as if their lives depended on it. Nothing about the scenery had caught his eye; until they had entered this particular neighborhood.
The breeze rolled though as the car slowed, the place seemingly abandoned as they drove past house after house after house; empty, run-down and even partially destroyed, in some cases.
Almost as if a fight had occurred a while ago, never to be repaired. Or some sort of natural disaster...
It left the boy, only in his final year of middle school, uneasy and with a sense of dread growing deep in his gut.
But Denki had learned well beforehand to never question his parents. To never bite at the hand that fed him.
So he didn't. But boy, as it difficult not to, especially as the car eventually rolled to a stop, in front of a house...if you could even call it that.
All that remained of the large estate was a crumbling wall, held up by a flimsy support. Everything else was scattered around the abandoned lot, dust and rocks and pieces of wall that crumbled at the faintest of pressures.
A black car, shiny and brand new unlike everything else around them, sat in front of where his parents had parked. It appeared that his father, blond like the boy sitting in the back, had tensed up at the mere sight of the vehicle.
It made Denki want to investigate...who would be exploring a boring, old place like this?
But as his father barked at him to get out, he did as told, as quickly as possible.
He would much prefer not to get them angry...
Even as them promptly led him away from the cars, to a nearby house that resembled a small wooden shack more than anything, no natural light beeming in--
Perhaps for the greater good, when he discovered what lay inside. Who awaited their arrival.
Denki stopped as soon as he stepped foot inside the four-walled trap, air constricting around his lungs as his heart hammered away against his ribs, the bones threatening to give way under the thunderous thumps that roared with blood in his ears.
A lump clogged his throat, and the child almost gagging at the dark, vicious but somehow calm aura that swept over him, causing his parents to straighten up and try to get their son to follow their example.
Straight backs, confident postures despite the sweat that beaded their brows. Denki could barely contain his fear, absolutely certain it was leaking through the cracks of his body, unable to all be held in a single place - too large for the small vessel determined to hold it.
The walls closed in as the figure at the end of the dark, scary 'tunnel' made itself known. A grin, stretched across scarred tissue, a face much too old and no face, no face above the mouth--
Denki slapped a hand across his own mouth as fear crawled up his throat, his parents paying no mind to their child's reaction. Instead, they both bowed, eyes averted towards the wooden floor as that man -- that thing -- regarded their presence with a single nod.
"Master Shigaraki," his mother spoke first, her yellow eyes void of any possible fear or misplace she may be feeling. "We...we brought the boy along, just as you requested."
"Good...very good," the man, Shigaraki, mused with a slight hum, the face with no eyes seemingly turning all attention to the frail boy ready to crack. "You're young Denki, correct?"
An elbow was shoved harshly into the boys ribcage, and he found himself nodding shakily, voice stuttering as he forced out an answer between gasping breaths. "Y-Y-Yes, s-sir."
"No need to be afraid, my dear boy." He stepped towards the child, Denki not realising his parents had stepped back. "I'm not going to hurt you - the opposite, really. But...I am well aware that my appearance may appear...rather nasty."
The blond gulped, feeling his electricity quirk stutter deep within his core, almost sparking out in the pure terror he felt with every step closer. "I'm s-sorry..."
"Your parents have told me a great deal about you...a boy intending on becoming a hero, right? Wishing to enter the most prestigious hero school in Japan, are you not?"
"U.A...it's my d-dream..." the boy whimpered, his golden eyes shutting as moisture quickly gathered. "I...I-I-"
A hand was placed delicately atop his electrified hair, every instinct within his body screaming that he back away. Screaming that he turned, ran away. Far, far away. But he was stuck. He stood still, slight tremors running their course across his body.
He heard a chuckle come from the suited man before him.
"Don't worry. If all goes according to plan...Kaminari Denki should be a hero student of U.A within the coming year."
The man's voice dripped sweetly, like caramel...but it held so, so much more.
A silent whine scraped, vibrating against his throat, unwilling to open and let the sound out. He was scared.
He wanted out. He wanted out.
He didn't want this.
"Denki will be willing to do whatever you wish, master," the shaky but firm, stern voice of his father spoke up from behind. Denki's heart dropped, shattering all hope. "He will."
"Good. Very good, indeed..."
The tendrils of the future snapped Denki's ankles, holding him in a place stuck between good and evil.
Under the watchful eye of this man, his dream held in a cage unable to escape.
His life all but ripped from him, torn to shreds.
It wasn't suppose to go like this, meeting with All For One.
He'd been resigned to the idea, come the following year. With no way out, with no way to defy his parents.
With no way to defy him.
Denki was left with no choice. No choice--
But to lie.
To lie. To cheat. To kill.
To fake. To spy.
To hurt them.
He plastered a smile on his face, hiding his inner turmoil. Hiding the vast secrets he held, hiding his true self.
Hiding his pain. His need for help.
Help that would never come. An all-too familiar feeling...
His friends...no, no.
Family. His family.
Denki...Denki wanted to be a hero.
He wanted to save.
He wanted to help those like him - he wanted to help himself...
He couldn't do this.
He couldn't lie, he couldn't cheat. No longer. No more.
"This is stopping, now."
His mother glared back, angered that her child, the being she brought into his earth, would dare defy her. Defy him.
"You don't have a choice," the woman all by hissed, eyes narrowed into slits as she grasped her weapon tightly in her hand. As if she wasn't facing against the boy she had raised. The boy she ruined.
The boy that was becoming a hero.
Her husband lay behind her, unconscious, shocked. She raised her hand, poised to use her quirk. Her son stood to the challenge.
All fear dissipating as the battlefield crumbled around them. Screaming and fighting and all those villains--
"You're a traitor, Denki. You're no hero." she sneered. "You're nothing. Nothing. Now step aside."
Denki took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. The pressure, the lies, unraveled from his form. His shoulders felt lighter. His quirk - stronger, faster, deadlier.
Chargebolt opened his eyes, a grin taking place across his features.
He was no hero.
"I might be nothing," he whispered, lightning sparking between his fingertips, ready to be released. A familiar, explosive voice screamed out from behind him, pleading him to stop.
A flash of red, sharp-pointed teeth tried to approach. An all-too-familiar pink hand held the figure back despite the sobs that left her form.
Tape was shot towards him from behind, trying to save, trying to pull him back-- much too slowly. Too late.
"...but this is my choice. My life..."
His hands slammed against the ground, the hero sneering as his quirk crackled around his form, clashing with skin and bone and being released. Blinding light flashed in his gaze, leaving him with a vision of white as his voice raised to a battle-cry, a scream tearing itself from his sore throat.
"...is none of yours to control, mother!"
He let loose.