Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Denki gets his quirk, he’s excited. He doesn’t know many heroes -or many people- with electric quirks. They’re rare, so he feels special.

That is, until the first time his mum slaps him and he hears the crackle of electricity, a pained cry, and a smell he doesn’t know how to recognize yet.

It’s the first time his parents really hurt him. It won’t be the last.

He tries. Gods know he tries to control it. He spends hours sitting in his dark bedroom, pushing, pulling at the quirk, begging it to come out or to stay in. Even when his head starts hurting, he keeps trying.

The quirk never listens. It’s like it hates him. It comes out at the worst moments, makes the light flicker when his parents come home. And he always, always apologizes. Sorry, he says, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise, please. This does not stop his parents from striking.

School is difficult for many reasons, and home becomes scary quickly.

It’s easier, to be outside. In the grass or on concrete, the quirk can’t hurt anyone.

When his parents decide to move, Denki is a bit scared they’ll leave him behind. But no, he fills his cardboard boxes with toys and says bye to his school friends. He hopes they’ll miss him, but he’s not really sure. They always cry out when he sparks them, and then they always ignore him for the rest of the day. They don’t care about his apologies any more than his parents do. Denki is young, but he knows how it looks, when someone is scared to touch you.

The new house is bigger, so Denki stays close to the walls and tries really hard to keep his hands to himself. When he really wants a hug, he pulls his blanket tight around himself. It’s not easy, because Denki has always touched the people he loves.

He meets Himiko at a nearby park not long after the move.

She’s playing alone, and Denki looks at the group of boys and girls playing together and decides it’s easier to make friends one at a time. The girl is crouching down, her back to him, but he can tell she’s playing with dolls in the dirt.

“Hi,” he says as he crouches down next to her.

She looks him up and down, and gives him one of the dolls she was playing with. She smiles, and he notices her sharp teeth. That’s cool !

“Hi ! I’ve never seen you before !”

“No, I just moved here. My name is Kaminari Denki.”

“I’m Himiko Toga ! How old are you ?”

Denki sits down more comfortably and says his age proudly.

“I’m six !”

“Well, I’m seven. I’m older, so you have to do what I say.”

“Uh, ok. What can I do for you, ma’am ?” he answers.

“Play with me !”

Himiko is nice, and she laughs at his jokes. She smiles a lot and she isn’t scared of touching him. Luckily, he doesn’t spark her. For once, his quirk seems to be nice to him.

They play together for hours, until Denki’s parents are back from work and calling his name harshly from the other end of the park.

“I have to go, sorry, Himiko-chan. Here, your doll.”

“That’s okay. Are you coming again tomorrow ?”

“Yes, I think. Can we play together again ?”

“I’m older, so I’m the one who decides ! I’ve decided… that we’re going to play together.”

The harsh call of Denki’s name sounds again, so he waves at Himiko and runs to his parents. They don’t ask questions about Himiko, but dad’s grip on his wrist is painful.

Himiko becomes a sun in his days.

People at school don’t like him much, because he’s loud and can’t focus in class. The teachers are always reprimanding him, and kids his age get annoyed by how touchy he is. They don’t like the sparks, either.

Himiko doesn’t mind.

The first time she touches his arm and he hears the crackle of electricity, she takes her hand away fast as lighting. And then, like a miracle, she laughs.

“It tingles !” she says.

“I’m sorry, I don’t do it on purpose, I swear, it’s because of my quirk-“

“I don’t care, silly. It doesn’t hurt much.”

She never shies away from him. Himiko is older, and she’s strong. She holds his hand when they run, and shakes him when she wants to show him something, and she brushes his hair with her fingers so as long as he does it to her, too.

She also turns out to be his neighbour, and their bedroom windows face each other. Himiko’s room is always dark, but she’ll turn on a little light to wave Denki goodnight, sometimes. Denki is too scared of the dark not to have any lights on. Even when he tries to be brave, his quirk flickers the lights on the ceiling and the hallway. He doesn’t like being yelled at, so he keeps a light on.  

It's a sunny day when Himiko tells him her parents don’t like her very much. She talks about her quirk, and how her parents are scared of it.

And Denki, for the first time in a while, doesn’t feel alone.

“You’re so great. Why don’t they like you ?” he asks, “I like you.”

“They’re scared of my quirk. You know, I told you about it…”

He nods. She talks about the taste of blood and he isn’t scared, because he knows you have no choice in these things. He doesn’t mind her, doesn’t think she’s scary. No, she seems even stronger to him, now. Denki doesn’t care for her quirk; he cares that she’s nice to him. That’s more than most people do, these days.

If Himiko can be brave and tell him about her parents, then he can be brave too. Maybe it’ll make her feel less alone, too.

“I think they’re scared of my quirk, too. I mean, I heard mum say it was too dangerous and too strong. But I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know ? I just sneezed and she was there and I didn’t like it. I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

He can’t help it, he feels warmth behind his eyes and knows he’s going to cry. He hugs himself tight, and then Himiko passes her arm around his shoulder and hugs him too. He doesn’t care that it hurts a little bit, because he hasn’t had a hug in a long time.

He doesn’t tell her how his parents hurt him. He doesn’t really know why. He doesn’t think he’s allowed to, and besides, it’s his parents. They know what they’re doing. He’s bad and he can’t control his quirk, so they punish him as they should.

Something deep, deep in him doesn’t think it’s really right.

But since it’s so deep, it’s easy to ignore.

Besides, sometimes, his parents are nice. He gets food on the table and the clothes he wants and they still touch him, unlike Himiko’s parents. It’s not that bad, see ?

Himiko is the first real best friend Denki has ever had. They play together and wave through their windows most evenings. They hold hands, and squeeze twice to say I’m here, you’re not alone. Things are less scary, like this.

Years go by, and they become inseparable. Denki’s quirk becomes just slightly easier to control, and he still trains for it. The headaches become more painful, start to last longer. It doesn’t help in school, where it’s already so difficult for him to focus.

He comes home one day to his bedroom packed and three suitcases in the entryway.

“What’s going on ?” he asks.

“We found you a Control School. We’re moving, and you start on Monday.”

“What ? But… What about your jobs ? What about school ? What about the house ?”

What about Himiko ? he doesn’t ask.

He’s sent to his room with a light slap, and he peers through the window as long as he can, hoping to see his friend on the other side. When dad comes to yell at him, Denki’s quirk sparks him. The quirk gets stronger with the years, and his father holds his hand with a hiss, rushing to the bathroom for a bandage.

The ever-present guilt makes Denki want to cry and apologise, but they seem to find it worse when he does. He keeps quiet, stays close to the walls, and brings his cardboard boxes to the car's trunk. He wonders how many of his things they’ve thrown away. The pictures he has with Himiko, are they still there ?

He’s dragged out of the house and thrown into the car. He doesn’t understand why his parents are so rushed, why they haven’t told him before. He’s been doing better with the quirk, lately. Hasn’t he ? He’s ten now, after all.

He turns around in his seat and through the back window, he sees his best friend’s retreating figure.

He won’t see her again for half a decade.

The years that followed would have been much easier with her by his side.

Chapter Text

With the appearance of quirks, Control School quickly became a thing. Not necessarily a good one, depending on which News Outlet you ask.

For Denki, it’s definitely not a good thing.

The one he goes to looks like any other school, from the outside. There are dorms where students spend the week before going to their parents’ house on the weekend, if they want to. Half the day is for normal classes -maths, history, Japanese… and the rest of the time is filled with special lessons.

Denki learns the rules very quickly.

Rule number 1 : Never talk about how it hurts to keep your quirk in.

Rule number 2 : Don’t be too loud, or too friendly, or too distracted. If you can’t do it, hide it.

Rule number 3 : Complaining brings nothing good. Eat the bad food, make your bed, and tell your parents you’re happy to be here.

The first time they put quirk quirk-suppressing bracelets on him, Denki thinks he’s going to die. He hadn’t realised before, how the quirk is always activated. He absorbs energy and rejects it, constantly. To be cut off from it is like a part of his soul died, a silence so heavy it makes him nauseous. He doesn’t remember much of that time. All he knows is that they don’t try again.

They want to teach him how to keep it inside. He tries. He really does.

But all it does is make the electricity build and build and build in his chest until it explodes and someone gets hurt. The headaches become a sort of constant, the pain ever present if he pays attention to it.

Did you know that physical punishments are authorized in Control School ? Well, Denki learns it fast. When it’s not hits, then it’s no lunch, or hours locked in a dark closet. It doesn’t help his fear of the dark.

Denki has never been the quietest or the most focused, so he gets punished a lot.

It’s not that he doesn’t make friends, per say. It’s just that the kids with him… Well, no one’s really happy to be here. No one is here of their own choice. They aren’t mean; they just aren’t friendly.

There is Tom, who sleeps in the bunk under him and speaks a broken Japanese Denki finds fun to decipher. He’s a French kid just a bit older than him, and he’s here because Japan has a better success rate than France, he says. Tom’s quirk doesn’t even seem so bad, to Denki. It’s just that his body makes water, and it drips down his fingers and his skin constantly unless he turns it off. It’s hard to turn off, he says.

At the start, there are quite a few days where they wake up with their feet in the water and the bedroom flooded. These days, Denki is stuck in his bed, chewing on his nails anxiously until enough of the water or the people are gone, lest he hurts someone with his quirk. Of course, he’s not allowed to miss class like that, and he can always feel it in the raw palms of his hands the next day.

So Tom is nice, but he won’t touch Denki like Himiko did. They both like sunny days and reading, and Denki likes Tom. Really, really likes him. It’s scary, a little bit.

He sits in bed at night and imagines Himiko next to him, pictures her comforting him, saying it’s okay that you like him so much. He imagines her head on his shoulder, her arm around him. I don’t care, she says in his mind, I don’t love you any less for it. He’s already starting to forget her scent, and he hates himself for it.

Is she forgetting him, too ?

Denki feels his loneliness like a knife to the heart.

The teachers and supervisors are strict, and their methods don’t work. They tell him to keep his quirk inside, but all it does is hurt. Denki thinks it makes the quirk angry, when he tries to repress it. It’s unbearable, but he can’t make noise. You’re not allowed to cry too loud, even in your own bed.

And so, Denki starts training again. His own way. The quirk gets stronger, but Denki does too. He ages, and he learns not to suppress his electricity, but rather, to redirect it somewhere safe. He imagines the currents following the lines of his body down to the sole of his feet and dispersing into the ground.

Slowly, like a miracle, it starts to work. He gets punished less. The days become easier, just slightly.

Every day, he thinks about Himiko. He wonders how she’s doing. He wonders if her parents have become kinder, gentler. He wonders if she’s made new friends, if she’s mad at him, if her life is easier than his.

It probably is. This place is the worst Denki has ever known.

The school sends reports to his parents, and it takes three years until the day he pushes the door of his dorm for the last time. He leaves Tom with sadness and relief, and doesn’t comment on the sound of his feet hitting wet cement. He puts the memory of his not-just-friend in a box and he buries it inside himself, in a place his parents won’t find.

It’s hard, to go back to a normal school. He flinches when people move too fast and his head hurts so often that he barely notices it anymore.

His parents are nice again, and it’s strange. Uncomfortable, almost, to be living together once again. His mum hugs him in the mornings and Denki has to force himself not to recoil or flinch away. We did the right thing sending you there, they say, and Denki plays with sparks at the tips of his fingers at night until he falls asleep because being in the dark makes it hard to breathe.

Here again, no one is mean. People are friendly, but there is no one Denki feels like talking with at the end of the day. There’s no one he wants to hang out with out of school. After all these years, it’s still hard to be a person without Himiko.

(Sometimes, he wishes he weren’t haunted by her like that. But only sometimes.)

The best thing, now that he’s out of Control School, is that he has his phone back. The first thing he does when he opens its search engine is to type in Himiko’s name. She has to be on a school registry, at least.

Nothing.

(Not yet.)

For the months and years to come, Denki will keep typing her name in the search bar regularly.

When finally, finally an answer pops up, he wishes it didn’t.

MISSING CHILD, it says in big bold letters.

In the picture, Himiko looks older. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her hair is up in two buns, and Denki can see the collar of her school uniform. It’s her. And she’s missing.

Denki is quick to pour out the money he’s saved for the past few years from birthdays and grandparents, and to find a train to his old city.

He slams the door on his way out and a part of him knows he’ll regret it later on, but he doesn’t care for now.

The trip is long, and he turned off his phone before he stepped out. With nothing else to do, he tries to recall childhood memories with Himiko by his side.

In the glass, his reflection smiles.

It takes a while to reach his old house once he gets into the city. The new owner have done something nice with the garden, planted colourful flowers along the edge. Denki doesn’t spare them a glance as he slams his fist on the front door of the next house, loud for the night slowly creeping in.

He recognizes the woman who open the door distantly. She looks older than he remembers, but her hair is put in a neat ponytail and doesn’t look as tired as the concerned parent of a missing child should be.

“What is this ?”

“I’m- I’m Kaminari Denki. I used to live in the house next to yours ? I’m sorry, I just… Do you know where Himiko is ?”

The woman sighs, annoyed, and anger starts building in Denki’s stomach.

“No, I don’t. She’s wherever she wants to be. Probably doing something horrible like drinking someone’s blood right now.”

“You don’t care, do you ?”

“I’m sorry ?” she asks, surprised, or maybe offended.

Denki takes a deep breath, looks to the sky for strength, and lets his quirk flow out of his fingertips.

“You don’t give a fuck about your daughter, do you ?”

“That’s enough. Get off my property.”

“She could have been kidnapped,” he starts screaming, “she could be dead !”

“Go away before I call the police, insolent child !”

She raises her hand, and he flinches. He sees something terrible in her eyes, something like victory. She brings her hand up like she’s about to hit him, and he steps away in panic. She doesn’t bring her hand down.

Denki knows he’ll be in enough trouble at home. He doesn’t need her to call the police on him, too.

Still, he spits at her feet before running away.

He gets a beating when he’s back home -turns out parents being kind now doesn’t mean they will always be.

The physical pain is difficult, but no more than the fear plaguing him. The internet article says she ran away. If it’s true, it doesn’t surprise him. Himiko has always been brave like that.

She feels farther than ever before.

Chapter Text

Denki works harder than ever before to get into UA. There are a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of hating himself, but he needs to get in.

He has to become a Hero so he can help people, so he can finally do something useful with his quirk that’s not just charging phones. He needs to become a hero so he can look for Himiko, really. Even if… the worst happened, knowledge is better than ignorance.

He would never say it out loud, but he needs to prove to his parents that he can do good. That he’s worth their love.

When he receives his acceptance letter, it’s the best day of his life. He celebrates with two desserts and a hug from his parents, then goes to his room and sits on his bed. He clutches the letter between his hands, rereading the words again and again.

“I did it,” he murmurs against it, “I did it, Himiko.”

He misses her like a knife to the chest. He misses her too much to talk about it. There is no words for the absence of his sister by his side, for the uncertainty of her whereabouts.

UA is big and scary, at first, but the people in his class are no older than him and they all have big, shiny dreams. Denki finds his people quickly, all things considered.

He manages to redirect the early friendship conversations, the what middle school did you go to and do you have siblings.

Denki almost skips out on the first P.E. class. His hands are clammy before he’s even inside the changing room, and his heart is so loud in his ears that he doesn’t notice Kirishima calling his name multiple times.

“Hey, dude, are you okay ?”

“Uh- yeah, sorry, I… I just need to…”

Denki sits down and tries to breath. It won’t be like Control School, he tells himself. He tries to believe it. I mean, there is no way UA would be such a highly ranked school if they hurt their students, right ?

He notices Kirishima crouching in front of him, and starts to register his voice counting. He knows what this is. Denki times his breath with his friend’s voice and slowly, his heartbeat slows and his breath evens.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly once he’s calmed down.

“All good, man. I used to have panic attacks too. Still do sometimes. Are you okay, now ?”

Denki finally notices that the rest of the room is empty. He blinks and finishes dressing as fast as he can.

“Shit,” he says, “I’m sorry I made you late.”

“Don’t worry ! Hey, we can tell Aizawa I had a panic attack if you don’t want to say it, okay ?”

He could cry. That’s official, Kirishima is now is best friend for life.

“Thank you so much, bro.”

“Bro.”

“Bro…”

“Crap, we have to run !”

It’s funny to run through the halls together, and Aizawa doesn’t even yell at them too much once Kirishima lies and says he’s the one who had the panic attack.

Turns out, P.E. in UA has nothing to do with Control School. Good. Seems like Denki will finally be able to do some real progress with his quirk, here. The relief is bigger than he could’ve expected.

Kirishima is a very cool dude, and they become good friends quickly after that day. He calls basically everything and everyone manly, so much so that Denki quickly finds himself saying the m-word multiple times throughout the day. Kirishima is generous with gym advice, and Denki tries to remember it even if there’s no way he will ever reach this guy’s level of muscles.

He immediately connects with Sero, who never misses an occasion for a prank. From the start, Denki can tell he’s a reliable guy. He likes to joke, but he’s also helpful whenever Denki misses an info in class and he does a very good Aizawa impression.

Ashido is loud and bright like a ray of sunshine, always smiling and stating her opinions. He admires her for how honest she always is, and how attentive she is to details. She always notices him on hard days and gives him a few words of encouragement. He hopes she knows she can count on him, too.

She’s the first person to talk to him about ADHD, and there’s nothing quite like the feeling of learning you’re not broken, just a bit different.

Bakugou is an asshole, so much that it becomes kind of funny. Denki likes to tease him just to see him explode, and he quickly develops a second sense for how far he can go before he loses yet another shirt to an explosion.

Hitoshi is handsome and cool, and Denki admires his resilience. He always wants to work harder when he knows Hitoshi’s watching. He hangs out with Denki, and most of all, he listens. Denki has always loved talking a lot, and there’s nothing like being listened to.

He wishes he could tell them about Himiko. He wishes he could tell her about him. At night, sometimes, Denki will write letters in his head with her name on the envelope.

Life at UA starts easily, and then there’s a villain attack, and then another one.

Denki is mad at himself for a long time after the training camp attack. If he’d worked harder, if he hadn’t relaxed so much – he would’ve been out there with his classmates, and then maybe he could’ve helped. Maybe Bakugou wouldn’t have been kidnapped.

They get him back, but he doesn’t talk much about his time with the League Of Villains. He’s not a talkative guy, and Denki has a feeling Bakugou is not in touch with his emotions, as Mina would say.

That’s why it takes weeks for Denki to hear about her.

They start living in the dorm, which is difficult because they all suddenly have to cook their own food and do their own laundry. It’s also great for late-night conversation, movie nights in the common room and board game Saturdays.

And sometimes like that day, Denki and his friends huddle up in one of their bedrooms to do homework and decompress. He’s talking with Mina and complimenting her decorated nails when Bakugou’s voice catches his attention.

“What’d you say ?”

“I said, the League vampire bitch was creepy.”

“Vampire b- who ? You’ve never talked about her before. Did I miss a chapter ?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but Denki feels his curiosity peaked.

(Somewhere deep in him, hope starts to bloom again.)

“Come on, Bakubro,” says Kirishima, “he wasn’t in the Forest.”

He turns to Denki with a smile, and leans closer like he has secrets to tell.

“There was a new girl in the team, apparently. She had a school uniform and a vampire quirk- apparently, she fought against Ochako and Tsuyu. Wouldn’t stop talking about drinking their blood. Ugh, that gives me the chill.”

“Hey, no one chooses their quirk. Do you know her name ?”

Denki hopes that his voice is calm and neutral. It might not be her, but it could be. This is more clues than he’s had in years.

“You might not choose your quirk, but you can chose to not be a fucking villain, dunce face,” Bakugou spits out.

“He’s not wrong,” Mina adds. Traitor.

“I was just saying that…”

They don’t talk about it again.

He’s uncharacteristically lucky when, a few nights later, he walks in the kitchen for a glass of water and finds Uraraka here already.

“Hi,” he says sleepily.

She startles and turns around, pieces of the biscuit she was eating falling to the floor.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you !” he says hastily.

“It’s okay,” she sighs, “I was in my head and didn’t hear you come in.”

She moves away from the sink so he can get his glass. Denki sips at it slowly, and wonders how to ask her for information without sounding weird. There’s been a rumour that there’s a traitor in the school. It feels like a dangerous time to ask questions like the ones he have, but…

Uraraka finished her biscuit, and she nods goodnight at him. She’s almost to the door when he speaks up, too loud for the time of night.

“Wait !” he says.

“Yes ?”

“I… The girl you fought in the forest. Do you know her name ? It’s just – you know what they say. Be close to your friends and even closer to your enemies. Not that I’m close with her, it’s just that it’s good to have information, and Bakugou won’t-“

“I get it, don’t worry. She said her name was Himiko, I think. Goodnight, Kaminari.”

Uraraka leaves, and Denki’s heart breaks apart and pieces back together at once.

He goes back to his room in a daze, not even noticing the tears running down his face until he falls into his pillow to find it wet.

She’s alive. (She’s a villain.) She has a roof over her head, maybe even a bedroom. She’s not alone. (The people around her are murderers.)

Later, he thinks about the hows and whys she became a villain. Later, he wonders if it’s his fault in some way. If it was his leaving, if it was her parents, if she just chose this life entirely of her own volition (she wouldn’t).

But at that moment, he cries his heart out into his pillow because his sister is alive.

Denki has spent years missing her like one misses a limb. She saved him as a child.

She touched him without fear, his sparks only ever making her giggle. She was his ray of sunshine, the one reason to smile between violent parents and difficult school lessons.

She called him smart when everyone else called him dumb. She always laughed with him, never at him.

Himiko Toga made him the person he is today. He worked his ass off for months, years, to be accepted into the best hero school of the country, so he can make sure children like them will be safe in the future.

She has made him kinder, softer. She taught him to love the unlovable, to put bugs outside rather than squish them. She taught him that no one chooses their quirk, and you can’t help who you are. She taught him that kindness is a strength, and that having someone who listens can be enough to make you feel brave. She taught him that he isn’t alone.

He's friendly to everyone because Himiko was, even when they were all scared of her smile. He bites his bottom lip like she always did. He keeps water and sugar in his bag, always, just in case she needs blood. Her, or anyone else.

And he never supposes he knows what's going on at home, no matter how happy someone may seem.

Denki is really, really good at acting like things are well when they aren't.

He supposes he got that from her, too.

Chapter Text

Time passes. There are more attacks, more difficult times. More laughs, too, more skincare evenings and game nights.

With each of their meeting with the League, Denki has an eye out for her. He catches a glimpse once or twice, the shade of her hair darker than it used to be but sporting the same space buns it always did. She looks a bit thin and a bit angry, but that’s all he can say.

They never fight. Thank Gods he never finds himself in front of her on a battlefield. He couldn’t hurt her, not even with the whole world watching. She wouldn’t hurt him, either.

He still googles her name sometimes, and news articles start to pop up. He never looks at the dead and injured count : he looks for pictures of her, only, and he saves them.

He puts the pictures in a protected folder, and holds onto the old, wrinkled photograph in his bedside drawer even tighter.

It was the one picture he managed to save during the move. On it, they’re eight and nine. Himiko’s hair is a mess and her dress has stains the same colour as the bruises on his wrists, but they both smile at the camera. It’s a good picture. Whenever he looks at it, Denki remembers the good days spent next to her.

Aoyama comes forward as a traitor, and Denki doesn’t know what to feel about it. On one hand, it’s caused a lot of hardships for everyone. On the other hand, he can understand the how and why it happened. He doesn’t hate Aoyama for it like Katsuki does; the French boy’s actions is what brought Himiko closer to him, after all.

War is exhausting and painful. Denki sees the people he loves, his classmates and his teachers, fight for their lives, and wishes he could do more. He sees Eraserhead and Present Mic fall. The sight of Katsuki on the ground, face bloody and eyes glassy, will haunt him for the rest of his life.

The hospitals are full, and he’s discharged quickly since his injuries aren’t too bad. He spends a few difficult days at home. The entirety of Japan is confused in the follow-up of the battle, and his family is stuck at home for a few days.

He goes back to the dorms as soon as he can. He’s got news from most of his friends, the class groupchat pinging regularly with updates on everyone’s conditions.

When Ochako starts answering messages, Denki is quick to open a new private channel. He knows about a few of the Villains who died, but there’s been no news of Himiko.

Me – 4:56pm:

Hey, glad to see you’re feeling better !

Uraraka – 4:59pm :

Thank you, Kaminari. It was a difficult battle, but I’m glad we both came out alive.

He wants to say Himiko’s alive ? Is she okay ? Is she safe ? Where is she ? How bad was it ? Did either of you get hurt really badly ? How did she fight ? Was she cruel, and mean ? Were you ? Instead, he takes a deep breath and types a new message.

Me – 5pm :

Toga’s alive ?

Uraraka – 5:01pm :

Yes. She saved my life. She gave me her blood, and she barely made it. She’s not a bad person.

I know, Denki wants to say, I know.

Slowly, people start coming back to the dorm. He gets to hug his friends again, and he won’t lie and say there weren’t some tears shed. They have sleepovers in the living room most nights, and no one ever comments on the gasping breaths that come with waking up from a nightmare.

Denki dreams of Katsuki’s unmoving body and Himiko bleeding out, alone on a battlefield. Sometimes, in his dreams, he lies next to her and they sigh their last breaths together. He keeps the picture in his pocket, now, and he runs his thumb against the frayed edge of it every time he thinks about her.

Class starts again, and although Midoriya and Katsuki are still recovering from their injuries, Denki is glad for the familiarity again. He’s missed things being normal.

No one expects to see Aizawa, eye tired and putting his weight on crutches. Of course, the moment they see him, everyone starts talking.

"Sensei ! You shouldn’t be here !”

“Are you okay, Sensei ?”

“You should be resting !”

“Sensei-“

“Quiet down, please.”

Everyone shuts their mouth immediately.

“I came to tell you something important, then I’m back to bed. In the wake of the war, rehabilitation is more important now than ever. The Principal, the competent authorities and I have decided to offer Himiko Toga an opportunity to redeem herself. She has been placed on probation. She will be joining your class next week for the next two years, if her behaviour is correct.”

He sighs as the questions start pouring. Denki’s ears are ringing, and he grips his desk so hard that his fingers hurt.

“She has an electronic bracelet tracking her movements and she will live in an adapted facility for the time being. If you notice suspicious or dangerous behaviour from her, you come to me. Listen, children, this is also an important part of Hero Work. Villains become villains for a variety of reasons. They are people like you and me, and although I’m not asking you to forgive, I’m asking you to give her a second chance. I’m not asking you to be best friends, but I’m asking you to respect her as a person.”

Denki doesn’t listen to the offended screams around him; his heart is beating too hard in his chest for that. When he feels his mouth stretch into a smile, he puts his head in his hands.

She’s going to be here. Finally, finally, he’ll have her close again. Sure, it’s going to be hard to thread between showing her support and not making his friends suspicious. With the whole traitor thing that happened, he doesn’t want to put her or himself in danger by admitting the depth of their relationship.

And it’s true, she has work to do. Denki doesn’t know why or how she ended up with the L.O.V., but he knows she must’ve thought she didn’t have a choice. His friend wouldn’t hurt people on purpose. She’s always been so nice.

They’ll have to act like they don’t know each other for a couple of weeks, and then, once everyone sees that she’s really not as bad as they think, they can be close again.

(Denki doesn’t think about the kill count or the people she’s hurt. His friend isn’t like that, she isn’t. He refuses to believe it.)

It’s hard to stay quiet as he waits for her. Knowing she’ll join the class soon makes all their memories bubble to the surface, and he finds himself taking breaths throughout the days, ready to talk about her before he stops himself.

Hanta seems to notice, but he doesn’t ask questions. He’s cool like that, Hanta.

Denki doesn’t sleep much the night before. He tosses and turns in bed, wondering what it will feel like to see each other again. He can’t wait to talk to her, to hug her, to laugh with her once again. He’s anxious to see her again, but also so excited.

He gets to class early, for once. He’s not the only one exuding a sort of nervous energy : everyone is curious and expectant. That’s good. It means he probably doesn’t seem too weird.

They all quiet down as the door starts to slide open. Aizawa steps inside first, and Himiko follows.

Denki sees her, and it's like he's finally breathing after years underwater.

She's alive. She's well. She's pale and thin and her hair is down, but she stands straight when she walks. She has all of her limbs and not too many visible scars. UA's uniform suits her.

She looks away from Aizawa, and finally, finally, their eyes meet. 

His breath catches in his chest, and then releases all at once.

Her eyes are the same shade of yellow he remembers. Her teeth seem sharper, and her bangs are long, grown past her eyebrows. It’s cut messily like he remembers it, and there is something funny about the idea that cutting her own hair for years does not make her better at it.

Denki looks away first, because if he doesn't, he might stand up and walk to her. He might hug her like he’s wanted to all these years. He might cry.

Gods, how he's missed having her next to him.

"Present yourself," says Aizawa, and Denki looks back.

"What ? They all know who I am," she answers with a pout (her voice, her voice).

"Do it anyway," he says gruffly.

She rolls her eyes and straightens up. She looks around the classroom, but her eyes never stop on Denki again. She takes a deep breath and puts a smile on her face that Denki knows is fake.

"Hi everyone, I'm Himiko Toga ! I like cute things and paninis. I'm gonna be with you for a while. Let's get along !"

It sounds rehearsed to Denki, and that’s… uncomfortable. How long as she wanted to do a high school introduction ? She was fourteen when she ran away, he remembers (how could he forget ?) so she hasn’t gone to high school before. He looks at his desk as she passes by, instructed to her seat by Aizawa.

She sits in the far back of the classroom, and Denki is both disappointed and relieved. He wants her close, but he doesn’t trust himself not to call her Himi-chan or be too friendly if she sits next to him.

Class that day is difficult. It’s hard to focus, with the knowledge that she’s here, so close, and he can’t talk to her. He wants to talk about everything they missed in each other’s lives. Denki works really hard not to turn around, not to startle when he hears her voice.

Mina sits on his right and Jirou on his left, with Eijirō behind him and Sero next to his red-haired friend. That’s a lot of people who would notice if he started acting weird.

He thinks about staying behind during lunchtime to talk to her, but Aizawa comes to fetch her right as the bell rings. Denki wonders if she’s staying with him, or if she has some sort of dorm situation.

He knows Aizawa and Yamada foster Hitoshi, so it doesn’t seem too far-fetched that he would foster her too. Or maybe it’s different, since she’s a ‘villain’ ?

Denki follows his friends to the cafeteria and gets his lunch, thinking. Hitoshi usually eats with them, these days, which is delightful to Denki. He likes the guy. Really likes him. (It’s much less scary the second time.)

He sets his tray down in front of the purple-haired boy as usual, and they exchange a smile. Of course, as he expected, their discussions turn around Himiko.

“She’s not that scary when you see her like that,” Mina says.

“Eh, I don’t know. She’s got some sharp teeth.”

“Eijirō. Look at me and say that again.”

“Right, right-“

“Hey, where do you think she’s staying ?” Denki cuts them off.

He looks at Hitoshi as he says it, but the boy gives him a suspicious expression.

“Why are you asking me ? Should I know ?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s just she came in with Aizawa this morning and then she left with him for lunch. So I guess I was just wondering if she’s staying with them ? Since they’re foster parents, and all ? Also, you got your own dorm now, which means there’s a free room at their place.”

“That wouldn’t be very safe, no ?” says Hanta.

Denki chokes on his saliva before he can start defending her. Thank the gods for that. It’s harder than he thought, keeping their relationship a secret. But it’s just the first day, he’ll get used to it. After all, there are a lot of things his friends don’t know about him or his time before UA. He’s good at keeping secrets, Denki.

“You do realize that even if Aizawa and Yamada were fostering her, I wouldn’t be able to say anything, right ?” Hitoshi asks.

“Ah. Yeah, right, I guess so…”

Denki sighs in defeat and the conversation goes on. A little bit later, though, he looks up to find Hitoshi looking at him. He’s so handsome, and he’s looking so strongly at Denki… He hopes he isn’t blushing.

Hitoshi nods, and then at Denki’s confused face, he jerks his head discreetly to the side. He does a few more strange faces before sighing loudly. Oh ! Is he talking about their earlier conversation ? That’s confirmation, right ? That Himiko’s living with his dads ?

He’s relieved. Aizawa and Yamada are good teachers, good pro-heroes. They care deeply for their students. They were really good to Eri and Hitoshi -still are- and so they will also be good to Himiko.

He hopes his relief isn’t written all over his face.

Chapter Text

Denki quickly finds a routine again.

He gets used to seeing Himiko every day, and he gets used to not talking about it. It’s not really lying, to not be saying things, right ?

Besides, Denki doesn’t like lying. He’s just very good at keeping things from his friends. It’s not even that he intends to, not like he does with Himiko. There are some things he just doesn’t know how to talk about, some things he’s ashamed of.

Control School. His parents. The hitting and the punishments. Struggling in school, before he knew ADHD was a thing.

Some stuff is easier to talk about. Kirishima is proudly gay, so it didn’t seem as scary when Denki talked about a boy crush for the first time. All he got was love, a bit of teasing, and Mina trying to play matchmaker. It didn’t work, but then again, Denki falls for people easily.

He knows for certain that Mina and Hanta are aware of his crush on Hitoshi. Katsuki too, actually, even though he would act all grossed out by it if he ever mentioned it.

He’s still waiting for an opportunity to talk to Himiko. Even more so because the last few days, she’s been looking bad. Paler, less focused, biting her fingers. He remembers those signs. That’s how she gets when she’s hungry for blood. Really hungry.

It takes a few days, but he finally gets a chance to talk with her when the lunch bell rings, the class empties, and Aizawa still hasn’t come to get her.

She’s looking outside the window, unmoving, almost not there at all.

"Are you okay ?"

She turns around quickly and seems surprised that it’s only Denki and her. He keeps his face carefully neutral, but his voice betrays his worries.

"... Yeah. All things considered, it could be worse," she answers.

Her voice sounds raspy.

"Are you hungry ?"

She doesn’t answer him verbally, but she hisses and from where he is, he can see her canine sharpening. Her nails scratch at her skin and she blinks confusedly. Denki takes a step towards her unconsciously.

He turns around as he hears hurried steps in the hallway, and he turns around to start rummaging in his desk. He takes the first notebook is hand lands on and jogs to the door before it can open.

Before it does, he turns to her and whispers in the air.

"I'll help. I'll always help."

He nods at Yamada as the man opens the door, saying "Have a good lunch, sensei !" as he passes by.

He finds a lie to keep his friends off his back at lunchtime. Right before the bell rings to get them back to class and as they’re walking to the classroom, Denki pulls Hanta back by his sleeve.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey ? What’s up ?”

“Can I ask you for a favour ?”

“Sure, what is it ?”

Denki looks around, biting his lips, and jerks his head towards a corner with fewer people. He keeps his voice low and quiet, and tries to act as calm and confident as possible.

“Listen, I’m going to ask you because I feel like I can trust you to keep quiet about it. I’ll be safe, okay ? I promise I’ll be entirely safe.”

“You’re starting to scare me, dude.”

“I need some time alone with Hi- Toga. Just a few minutes. I need you to distract the teacher. She won’t hurt me and I won’t hurt her.”

“Wait, what ? Why ?”

He rubs at the back of his neck, eyeing the quickly emptying corridors. The second bell is about to ring soon.

“I can’t tell you. Do you trust me ?”

Hanta sighs and rubs at his face.

“Of course I do.”

“Great, thanks !”

Denki pats him on the shoulder and hurries to the classroom. He doesn’t run away, he just… strategically leaves the scene. Hanta follows just as the teacher gets in.

A quick look at Himiko makes it clear that she’s getting worse. She looks sweaty, dizzy, and she’s biting her own hand unconsciously. Denki knows what it means, but he doesn’t know what to do about it, not here, not now. He doesn’t know how to help.

He can feel Hanta sending him curious looks, too, so he can’t even turn around to check on her since there’s no way he won’t cross his friend’s eyes.

“I need to go to the toilet.”

Denki swings around at the sound of her voice. Her arm doesn’t shake as she raises it, but she speaks through her teeth, her jaw clenched tightly.

“No. You’ll wait until the lesson is done, then I’ll get Aizawa to come get you,” says the teacher.

“It's a girl's need. I have my period. I'm going to bleed all over this chair if you don't let me change now. “

The male teacher sputters and sighs and gestures for her to go. He remembers to follow her a couple of seconds after. Here, that’s his chance.

"Teacher, can I go to the toilet too ? Really pressing matter. And that way I'm not going to distract the class while you're gone."

It’s not the most discreet thing, but that’s all he has. He needs to get to her, now. The teacher nods, and Denki looks at Hanta, pleading with his eyes. He worries for a second, but then his friend gets up to follow them. He waves Mina’s questions away with a ‘gotta ask the teacher something’.

Thankfully, the closest toilet to their class is gender neutral, which means there’s no risk of Denki being caught going in or out of the girl’s toilet.

“Sero, what are you doing here ?”

“Sorry, I just have a question about the assignment we have to give back tomorrow. I’m worried I’ll forget it if I don’t ask you now...”

Denki slips in quickly, and he follows the sound of Himiko’s raspy breath to knock on the right door. A quick check confirms they’re alone.

"Himiko. Himiko, open the door," he says quietly.

The door opens and he gets in quickly, closing it again behind him. She scrambles to sit on the closed toilet, and Denki can’t help the sigh that escapes him when he sees her.

She looks terrible, and his heart constricts. He’s quick to crouch down and roll up his sleeve, offering his arm. She lunges forward and wastes no time biting down.

He remembers the pinprick of her teeth, but it’s been so long that it feels a little strange, at first. He gets used to it quickly though, and soon he’s fallen into old habits. He doesn’t see her face clearly from where he is, but he can tell her skin gets flush with each mouthful of blood. He trusts her to know when to stop.

He caresses her hair like he used to, and it’s softer than he remembers. Her hair implantation still spirals at the top of her skull, and she still hunches over when she drinks, like she’s protecting something precious. He’s always found it nice. As a child, it felt like she was protective over him -and she was, they both were, no matter their inability to act on the circumstances of their home lives.

And because Denki has never felt comfortable with silence, he talks.

"I knew you would need help soon, I could see it. It didn’t know how to do it on my own, but I have good friends, so I asked Hanta to cover for us. He's going to want an explanation, but I won't tell him the truth. Tomorrow, we're having game night with my friends. Mina keeps beating me at Mario Cart, but I kill it at Luigi's Mansion so I hope that's what we'll play. We're waiting for Katsuki to be discharged and we miss him. Hitoshi told me he liked the badges on my backpack- well, not in so many words, but I know what he meant. I was so caught off guard that I started stuttering and he laughed and walked away. I can't believe I keep embarrassing myself in front of him." 

Himiko hums, licks the wounds and leans away. Her cheeks are redder, and her eyes much less glassy. She presses on the wounds with a hand so the blood coagulates. Her face has changed since he last saw her this close. She’s lost the fullness of her baby cheeks. Denki can see on her face that life hasn’t been easy- but then again, he supposes he wears it on himself too, for those who can see.

"Do you like him ?" she asks, and he suddenly realizes how he was talking about Hitoshi.

"Ah-" he says, feeling his face heats up, "yeah." 

She observes him for a bit, and he realizes she wouldn’t know about this. Just like he didn’t know she was bisexual, she wasn’t here for his late-night realizations. He always knew she wouldn’t judge him for it, but it actually seems a little funny that they both turned out to be bisexual.

"You have to go. I'll wait until the hallway's clear to leave, and then I'll tell the teacher... I don't know, that I had diarrhea ?" he tells her, checking his watch with a grimace.

"Ew, gross."

He shrugs and gets up so she can get out of the stall. 

"If it works, it works."

Himiko slips out and washes her hands and face quickly. Denki stays inside a bit longer, looking at the crusted blood on his arm. The scars from her teeth faded a long time ago. It’s good, to have physical proof that she’s close by. It makes him smile, but at some point he has to shake himself, wash his hands and go back to class.

He pushes the door open with an apologetic face.

“Sorry, Sir. Had a bit of a runny,” he says in a stage whisper, smiling at the snickers behind him.

He sends Hanta a grateful look as he sits back down, and his friend rolls his eyes. Denki knows he’ll ask questions later, but for now… He’ll try to focus on class.

He’s been weird lately, he knows. It’s hard to fight the urge to talk to her, talk about her. He keeps cutting himself off, and at some point his friends are bound to notice. Katsuki could catch on first, but he’s not the time to ask about things people don’t want to talk about.

Hanta, on the other hand... Denki knows that with enough pleading, he’ll forget about it. Until something unusual happens again and he starts asking more questions. There’s no escaping it, so after dinner, he walks with him back to his bedroom.

It’s time to lie.

Chapter Text

Denki likes Hanta’s bedroom. There’s always some incent burning, and his hammock is so fun, he could stay in it for hours. Hanta lights up an incense stick and Denki gets on the hammock as usual, but the tension is palpable in the air.

“Right, so. Want to tell me what that was about ? Are you okay ?”

“Of course ! Do I not seem okay ?”

“No, actually. You seem… more relaxed than before,” Hanta says, squinting his eyes.

Denki chuckles awkwardly, and puts his arms behind his head. The hammock sways side to side gently, and he worries at his lips. He doesn’t want to lie, but he certainly can’t tell the truth.

“Okay, I… Really can’t tell you anything, right now. I’m sorry, and I know you want to know but… It’s dangerous.”

"What is ?"

Denki turns around, and finally faces his friend. He crosses his arms over his chest, feeling vulnerable. It’s obvious Hanta is worried and frustrated with his answers, but he can’t tell him ‘Oh, we just talked, don’t worry’. He would never buy that.

“Nothing bad happened, I’m okay, and she’s okay. But you know, with the whole traitor thing that happened, I don’t want to… And she’s on probation, so that would be bad for her too, if people knew.”

“You do realize how that sounds, right ?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay. Okay. And you… care about her safety ? For some reason.”

Denki feels his hackles rise, but he knows he has to tread this carefully.

“She’s a person, man. Like you and me. If she was really that bad, she’d be in Tartarus and not here.”

“You’re right, I guess.”

Hanta sighs, rubs at his eyes, and decides to let it go. Denki’s glad, because it’s a difficult conversation. He doesn’t want to think about her in Tartarus or any other prison. He hates to imagine her in pain, in any pain.

“Wanna play Mario Party ?”

“For sure, man. I’ll beat you this time.”

“I’d like to see you try !”

Denki loses, because no one in their class can match up to Hanta at Mario Party.

As he gets into his pajamas that night, he finds himself touching the spot where Himiko bit him. He finally got to talk to her, finally got to be really, truly close again and yet he feels…

It’s hard to put words to what he feels, actually. He’s happy to see her, of course. But it’s strange not to talk to her throughout the day like he’s dreamt of doing for years. She’s quieter than she used to, more reserved. He’s missed her so much, and now he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He’s struggling to act normal with his other friends, too. He feels like it’s written all over his face, like anyone can look at him and see the childhood best friend that made life worth living. And if they can see her, then they can certainly see all of his past, too. It’s been a while since Denki has felt anxious like that.

He feels… Awkward. Uncomfortable. And he hates it, of course he hates it. In his head, seeing her again has always been so easy. And yet, he finds himself hovering, hesitating, staying quiet when he should speak up. He lets his friends talk about her, and he doesn’t know why he can’t seem to defend her.

Well, intellectually, he knows it’s for both of their safety. But when has Denki ever played it safe ? He always acts before he thinks. Why can’t he, for her, the most important person in his life ?

If he loved her less, he might be able to talk about it more.

He knows if he tells them, there will inevitably be questions Denki isn’t ready to answer. They were such friends because they shared similar pains, and Denki hasn’t allowed himself to be seen as weak in years.

An uncontrollable quirk is a weakness. His forgetfulness, his distractibility, they’re weaknesses, and he was punished for it. He doesn’t think his parents were entirely wrong in punishing him for it, but he also knows you’re not supposed to talk about these things. Katsuki doesn’t talk about the way his mother hits and screams, even though they’ve all seen it.

He wonders, not for the first time, what happened to Himiko after she left home. Was she safe ? Were the people at the League nice to her ? He finds it hard to believe, considering the things they did and the people they killed during the war.

Himiko isn’t like them. His friends just need some time to see it.

The next day, they’re on their morning break when Tsuyu passes by Denki. He doesn’t really notice, too busy sending memes to Katsuki because it annoys him and that’s funny. They all hope he’ll be discharged soon. Denki kind of misses his screams, if he’s honest.

He turns around when he hears Himiko’s voice, and the rest of his friends follow. She’s not really talkative, not since she arrived. She’s holding some pale pink claw clip that she observes before quickly putting it in her hair. She twists it and pulls it up before securing the clip around it. Denki has always found it impressive, how quickly girls will do their hair.

“Aww, that’s so nice of you Tsuyu-chan ! You can call me Himiko ! I’d love a claw clip, they took away my elastics at the hospital and apparently, I’m not allowed to have them anymore. I don’t know what they expect me to do with a few elastics, honestly. It’s not like I can kill someone with that !”

Ouch. That’s… a weird thing to say. He grimaces, looking around at his classmates’ equally disturbed faces. Why would she say that ?

It also sucks, that she isn’t allowed elastics. He wonders how much she’s allowed, actually. There’s the electronic bracelet on her ankle, and she never leaves or gets in the classroom without a teacher. He isn’t sure how much she tries to participate in class, because his back is turned to her, but he knows she isn’t called on often. He knows why, but he still wonders what makes her less deserving of being heard.

He remembers her liking school but hating the people in it, he thinks. It’s funny, how different they are on this. Denki has always loved people, even the mean ones. He’s always wanted attention, he supposes.

At 16, Denki would rather be annoying than ignored. It’s wild, the effect that your friends overlooking you in elementary school can still have years later.

He thinks he should be over it, just like he should be over his parents’ violence in his childhood. Things are so much better nowadays, and yet- ‘going home’ always ties his stomach in knots. He tiptoes, in that house. He keeps his hands close to his body and makes himself small, quiet, manageable.

His friends wouldn’t believe the person he is back there.

It’s only a few days later that he hears her voice and Hitoshi’s, and he can’t help turning around. His friends exchange a few words, and Denki looks back at his desk, eyebrows furrowed.

Of course, it’s great that she’s finally talking to someone -especially Hitoshi, who Denki has always secretly thought would get along well with her. And yet somehow, he feels… jealous ?

Denki knows about jealousy. It’s easy to be jealous when there are cooler, smarter, stronger people all around him. It’s easy to be jealous when they talk about home life and parents with unconditional love. It’s easy to be jealous of people with perfect quirk control like Katsuki or Midoriya. Denki is used to being jealous, and he’s used to letting it go.

Can he ask Hitoshi about it, later ? Would it be weird ? Gods, he overthinks everything, lately. He feels wrong-footed a lot of the time, and sometimes he feels like it’s written all over his face.

Still, he’ll try his luck this time.

Hitoshi doesn’t have additional training that evening, so they all get back to the dorms together. Denki likes these moments, when class has ended and they go home, all of them. You don’t go through a war without being family, at least a little bit.

As usual, Hitoshi and him fall into step, just a bit behind the others. Denki likes these moments even more, when it feels like it’s just the two of them. He’s got so much to learn about his friend, still, and Hitoshi doesn’t like to talk when there are a lot of people listening.

“Hey,” Denki says.

“Hey.”

“Say, you were talking with H- her, I mean, Toga ? Earlier ?”

Hitoshi looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and Denki feels his cheeks heat up. He looks away then back, worried it might make him look guilty.

“Yes, she made a joke. She has the same sense of humour as you. I’m doomed.”

Denki laughs, because he knows she got it from him.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. You love my jokes.”

“Sadly, I do,” Hitoshi says with a sigh, but there’s a faint smile on his lips.

They walk a few more steps in silence before Denki can’t keep quiet any longer.

“So, what do you think of her ? Besides that she’s funny ?”

“Not much. She doesn’t bother me. Why, did you see her do something strange ?”

“No, not at all ! Oh my gods, no. I’m just curious what you think. She doesn’t really talk to people, right ?”

“She did at the start, but no one would answer. Even you would give up at some point.”

“Oh. Okay.”

That’s sad, Denki thinks but doesn’t say. Hitoshi doesn’t seem too suspicious of him, so that’s good. Denki’s only advantage, in this whole situation, is that he’s known to ask a lot of questions and talk too much about too many things.

It’s funny, considering how little he’s let his friends know about his past.

Sometimes he wakes up and he feels 14 again. He almost expects Tom’s snoring under his bed, his feet splashing on the wet floor, his muscles locking in panic as he realizes what awaits him when he inevitably misses a few hours of class.

Sometimes he wakes up and he feels 8 again, and his only light is Himiko’s smile greeting him at the end of the day.

But most of the time he wakes up, 16 years old, fresh out of a war that has marked his generation like an iron brand. Himiko isn’t really here and Control School is far away but the scars stay.

Things will get better, he tells himself, again and again and again, like he’s been doing since the first time he sparked his mum. Maybe if he repeats it enough, he’ll start believing it.

Chapter Text

Before Denki realizes it, a month has passed.

Katsuki comes back, and it isn’t pretty. He knows Himiko is here, of course. But the words he spits at her when he sees her made Denki freeze up.

Hitoshi tells Katsuki to let it go, and Kirishima gets him away and calmed down, and Denki stands there, unmoving, guilt eating up his insides. Why doesn’t he move ? Why doesn’t he say something, anything ? How can he call himself a hero if he can’t even defend his dearest friend ? Gods, he really hates himself in moments like these.

Himiko doesn’t even look at him. It’s like she doesn’t even expect him to defend her and somehow, that hurts more.

He realizes that he hasn’t really talked to her since she came here and he really, really wants to.

He approaches Hanta one evening, and what he wants must be written all over his face because his friend squints, quirks an eyebrow, and closes the door behind him. Denki would do it by text, but he’s always preferred the sincerity of face-to-face conversations.

“Hey, man. Uh, I have a favour to ask. Again.”

“Okay ? Go on.”

“I need some time with her- with Toga, again. Please. I can do it during lunch time, if you find a way to make Aizawa late ?”

Hanta looks at him, crosses his arms, and looks up as he thinks.

“Yeah, I actually have a question about our next assignment. You’re lucky. But man, listen… whatever you’re doing with or- or to her, it’s not worth the risk.”

“I’m not doing anything to her !” he says, horrified at the thought, “we’re just talking ! Don’t ask about what, please.”

And because Hanta is the bestest friend ever, he doesn’t ask.

And the next day, as the lunch bell rings, he looks at him and nods once before taking off, leaving the classroom quickly. Denki rummages around in his desk, acting like he’s lost something.

“Hey, are you coming ?” Mina asks, “Where’s Hanta ?”

“He had something to ask a teacher, I think. And I’ll join you, I just need to find my… where is it, I was sure…”

He looks under his desk, putting as much of his arm inside as possible. Mina pats him on the head and leaves the classroom with Eijirō right behind; they’re used to him losing things. The secret is that the longer something is lost, the more lost it is. When Denki thinks “uhm, I haven’t seen this or that in a while,” that’s when he must search for it.

His friends know that, so they also know if he’s looking for something he has to find it now.

The class fills out and finally, they’re alone. He smiles at her, hesitantly, suddenly unsure what to say. He wants to apologize for staying quiet in the face of Katsuki’s anger; he wants to ask her how she is.

“Sero can give us a few minutes,” he says instead, “How are you doing ? Do you need to drink again ?”

“I’m okay for now. Will be for about a week, I think. Oh, I asked Ochako to help, and she said yes.”

She smiles giddily, and Denki blinks in surprise.

“Really ? Well, okay then. I didn’t think she… Well. Whatever you’re into, I guess,” he mumbles under his breath. Good for her.

He sits in Hitoshi’s chair, the wrong way around so he’s facing her. They just look at each other for a while, taking in the years they missed.

She looks tired, thin, stressed. Denki wonders what she sees, when she looks at him.

They’re both older, and maybe not wiser but definitely more traumatized. He has scars she wasn’t here to soothe, and he wears his hair longer, these days. He has more freckles from outdoor training and deeper eyebags from sleepless nights.

He feels more at home here, with class 2-A, than anywhere else. But home was never complete without her.

He wonders what happened to her. Where she went, who she met, if she had to fight for her safety. He hopes not. Gods, he hopes her years were easier than his. He hopes she-

“You abandoned me,” she says, and his heart breaks.

He feels the accusation like a fist to the chest, but he nods anyway. He keeps his eyes on her as he talks, trying to ask for forgiveness without words. He grips his pants where his hands rest so hard that it almost hurts, but Denki is used to pain.

"I kept hurting them by accident, so my parents sent me to a Control School. The kind for children with uncontrollable quirks. There was no internet, no personal phones, no anything- I didn't know how to contact you. They told me you were a bad influence; I guess they must've... talked to your parents at some point ? Anyway, by the time I got out of it I had saved a bit of money to come visit you but… you were gone."

He remembers the creaking of her front door as it opened, the hope that had bloomed in his chest for the entire trip falling and crashing down at her mother’s face. He doesn’t remember the woman much; all he can picture is the uninterested look on her face, the casualty with which she told him Himiko was long gone. If she’d looked crueller, Denki would’ve feared for his friend’s safety.

He remembers going back home, knowing he would suffer for his stunt but still more worried about her. Had she left with money, a phone, food ? Had she found shelter from the coming cold winter months ? He knows now that she found the League and that she had, at least, a place to eat and sleep, even if it was with terrible people.

Maybe, in another universe, Denki stayed and she did, too.

Maybe, in another universe, they never let go of each other’s hands. Maybe they’re both in 2-A for the same reasons; maybe she’s a hero, like him. Maybe, even, when they’re older, they open an agency and work together to protect kids like them.

What he knows for sure is that in every Universe, Himiko Toga holds his heart in her hands.

“I ran away when I was 14,” she says, “I was tired of everyone wanting me to be something I was not. I spent a few years in the streets before I found the League. It’d never felt more at home, you know ? I was with people who got me, really, truly.”

“… I got you,” Denki says in a small voice. “I always had you.”

He always knew her, better than anyone; and she knew him better than anyone, too. She still does, he thinks.

She knows the darkest parts of him, the things he won’t talk about, the things so scary to think about he wouldn’t know how to make words out of it.

And he knows her. Doesn’t he ?

(He hasn’t googled her name in months. Not since the fights got serious, scary, traumatizing.

He’s scared of what he’ll see.

He’s scared he doesn’t know her as much as he wishes he did.)

“You were homeless ?” he asks with a frown, suddenly realizing what she told him. “I looked you up, but I couldn’t find any traces of you anywhere.”

He thought she’d found the league quickly. How long did she spend in the streets, exactly ? A few years, she said. Years.

Denki’s heart beats loudly in his chest, mistimed anxiety for a person alive and whole right in front of him.

“It sucked. But it didn’t last,” she lies.

He can still read her face. There is so much she isn’t telling him. But then again, he hasn’t told her about the punishments and the fears and Tom in Control School, either. He doesn’t want to bring the memories back to the surface, not when he’s done such a good job ignoring them for years. Not even to her.

He opens his mouth to talk, but before he can utter a word they both look up at some noise in the hallway. Denki is quick to stand up, but before he goes, he puts his hand on hers, for just a second.

“I wish we could be ourselves in front of the others, but in the meantime, know I’m on your side. I’ve always been on your side first.”

Things may be strange and awkward between them now, but she is still the person he loves and cares for the most in this world. Denki would give anything for Himiko.

He rushes back to his desk and takes the first notebook his hand lands on, and salutes Aizawa as he passes the teacher. He doesn’t turn back, too worried about what his face is doing.

When he finally joins his friends for lunch, he gives a reassuring smile to Hanta at his searching look. They don’t even question his late arrival, too busy talking about what Himiko told Hitoshi earlier. Wait, what ?

“What did she tell you ?” Denki asks.

“She said I was going to be a great hero,” his friend grumbles.

“Well, okay. But you know that already ?”

His friends laugh harder, and Denki is confused. They’re all going to be great Heroes. It’s obvious to him, and he keeps telling it to Hitoshi. This time, he isn’t jealous. No, instead, he feels like the boy he likes is getting along with his sister, and that’s the best feeling in the world.

Days keep passing, and every day feels more or less the same. With time, it gets easier to laugh and to forget the things they’ve seen.

“Hey, do you wanna hang out later ?” he asks Hitoshi one day, feeling uncharacteristically brave.

“Do we have homework to do ?”

“No, I just… want to hang out.”

“Sure,” Hitoshi says.

Mina once told Denki that he can ask Hitoshi for anything and he’ll do it. He thinks it’s a bit dramatic, as Hitoshi has clearly told him no to super cool activities and board game nights before.

But it’s true that usually, he’ll say yes in moments like these. Denki knows he usually goes straight to his room after dinner, so he feels a bit privileged. 

And maybe, just maybe, it makes his heart beat a bit faster whenever he gets a yes.

Hitoshi likes to sit cross-legged on the floor and Denki lies in his bed, turning around and around until his friend says it’s making him dizzy.

They will sometimes sit in companionable silence, when Denki has run out of things to say. Or, like tonight, when he’s got too much to think about that he can’t say out loud.

He thinks about guilt, and letting bad things happen to the people you love, and how his feet stayed rooted on the ground in class but his body moved without thinking during the war. He’s thinking about how bad of a friend he’s being, and about how much he wishes he could talk about.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I will,” Hitoshi says suddenly.

“What ? What is it ?” A distraction is good. Denki likes secrets, as long as they’re not his.

“You know I moved to the dorm at the start of the year despite Shouta and Hizashi’s house being on campus ?”

“Yeah ?”

He sighs, and Denki wonders what he’s about to say. He wonders why he’s being trusted, when he’s been such a terrible friend lately.

“Toga lives there. Since Shouta and Hizashi are registered foster parents, and they’re the ones who… wanted her to have a second chance, she lives with them. She saw Eri today.”

Denki closes his eyes and turns away so Hitoshi can’t see his expression. Thank all the gods. Thank gods his sister is with people Denki has and will trust with his life. There is no universe in which Aizawa Shouta and Hizashi Yamada are bad to her. Thank gods she is safe.

“She asked Eri if she was abused. Said she’d protect her against anyone and anything. Eri told me that… She knows Toga from before, when she was still with Overhaul. The League came, and they tried to… defend her, or take her away. I’m not sure, but from what I got, one of them got killed for it.”

Has he ever talked this much ? Has he ever been so honest before ? Hitoshi’s voice his quiet and he looks at his feet, eyebrows furrowed. He really needs to talk about this, it seems.

“That’s good, isn’t it ?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just strange, knowing all the things she’s done,” Hitoshi answers.

“She’s not a Monster,” Denki spits out, and he knows his voice his too harsh.

The walls were thin, back then, and although he’s never heard Himiko call herself a monster, he’s seen the way she took the word. Resigned, like she could never be more than what she was told to be. Like she had any fucking choice on the quirk given to her. Like it was her fault she was like this.

Himiko has only ever wanted what everyone wants : to be herself.

Hitoshi looks up, and his eyebrows shot up. Denki closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and focus.

“I just meant… She’s not that bad, is she ? Is it hard to believe she would want to help a little girl in Eri’s situation ?”

Hitoshi looks at his face, hard and silent for what feels like an eternity. Denki knows he keeps giving himself away, he keeps saying the wrong things, showing too much of the love he holds for Himiko. But he isn’t ready to talk about her, because she comes with truths he can’t stand to think about.

After a long moment, Hitoshi talks again, careful and quiet. Denki doesn’t know what he’s looking for, what he can see in his face. He doesn’t look away from Hitoshi’s eyes, because Denki knows that that would be proof of guilt. Proof that he’s been lying for years.

“I don’t know if she was better or worse than the others. She’s killed and hurt a lot of people.”

There is a voice in Denki screaming I don’t want to talk about this anymore, stop, stop, shut up.

He pinches his lips and stays quiet, a storm of indignation and horror and delusion banging in his chest. Himiko is good, always has been.

If she isn’t good, who does he have ?

“Let’s talk about something else,” Hitoshi says softly, “You’ve been playing Stardew Valley again, right ?”

It’s hard to talk, at first. Denki is immensely glad for the distraction, even though a part of him is terrified that Hitoshi heard the screams inside. He talks about his crops and the latest dialogues that made him laugh.

When Hitoshi leaves an hour later, they stand in front of each other, silent. Hitoshi keeps searching Denki’s face, and Denki looks at his forehead or his nose because eyes are the windows to the soul, and Himiko Toga is written in red bold letters across Kaminari Denki’s soul.

Hitoshi says good night, and leaves Denki alone with his thoughts.

Chapter Text

She’s killed and hurt a lot of people.

The sentence echoes in Denki’s head constantly.

When he wakes up in the morning, when he sees his bedside table and knows there’s a picture of them inside it. When he ties his shoes, when he puts his books in his bag, when the sky is grey and cloudy the way she loves.

When he sees Hitoshi in the morning, on the way to class, in hallways, at lunch. When he sees her and all he can picture is the little girl who saved him.

When he tries to sleep, he thinks about what Hitoshi said.

She’s killed and hurt a lot of people.

Denki knows he’s been acting ignorant on purpose. He knows he’s been turning a blind eye to the truth, because the truth hurts too much.

In his heart, Himiko is a ray of sunshine.

In his mind, she’s eleven and she’s the only one who laughs at his sparks. In his head, she smiles at him and touches him gently where she knows bruises always bloom.

In his heart, Himiko’s kindness resonated so much that it made him gentler, softer, more compassionate.

Kaminari Denki is who he is today because of Himiko Toga.

And what do you do, when your first role model, your first true friend, your sibling in all but blood, has done terrible things ?

It takes days before he feels brave enough to type her name in the search bar.

The letters show up purple, like his phone is laughing in his face. You’ve searched for her name so many times, it seems to say, but are you ready for what you’re going to find ?

He isn’t. He does it anyway.

He types the letters slowly, breath short with anxiety. He feels almost nauseous with it. His door is locked, his phone on Do not Disturb, his curtains closed.

It feels safer, to know he can’t be seen.

The page loads, and Denki closes his eyes. He holds his phone so tightly he’s worried he might crack it, and above him the lights flicker, his quirk reaching out with his emotions.

When he opens his eyes, he sees her. It’s a grainy, blurry picture. He doesn’t know when or how it was taken, but it’s a recent one. From the Last Battle, probably. Her face is unmoving, her jaw slack, her skin pale and bloody.

He scrolls down in a panic, and clicks on the first article that pops up.

It talks about does everyone deserves redemption and the danger of putting criminals with children, like the children haven’t fought the damn War themselves, like Himiko isn’t barely a year older than them.

It takes a while, a lot of terrible articles and just a few tears, but Denki finds answers.

She’s hurt people. She’s killed people. There are confirmed kills and supposed kills and videos of a trial she was too unconscious to participate in. (It turned out okay for her, but it still feels so wrong, to have a trial for someone who isn’t here. On the recording, Denki sees Aizawa and Principal Nedzu fight for her, and that makes him smile a little.)

Some articles talk about a young Hero who fought valiantly against her, and Denki realises how little he knows about what happened between Ochako and Himiko.

Not enough to make them hate each other, that much is obvious. But the cameras were occupied elsewhere, and Katsuki died and Eraserhead and Present Mic fell and that was all Denki was thinking about, at the time.

All in all, it’s better than it could be.

He still loses hours tossing and turning, trying to find justifications, reasons, excuses. Trying to find information only Himiko has, what and when and whys.

Denki is good at acting, and so he puts on his shoes and swings his backpack over his shoulder and smiles at breakfast. He makes jokes and teases Katsuki, and maybe he leans into his friends just a bit more, knowing deep down that all he wants is to be hugged.

Hitoshi is a quiet person, but he’s an attentive friend. He knows Denki so well that it scares him, sometimes.

No one can pick up on his moods like the purple-haired boy, except for the girl Denki would lay his life down for.

At the end of the day, as they walk with each other back to the dorm, Hitoshi and Denki separate from the group as usual.

“Are you okay ?” Hitoshi asks.

Denki almost says yes, of course !. Habit, more than the truth. But his throat feels raw, his head hurts from how little sleep he’s gotten, and he still wants that hug so desperately he almost feels like crying.

Everything fell apart and I don’t know what to do about it, he wants to say.

“Can I come over later ?” he murmurs instead.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Denki smiles at his friend, and Hitoshi’s lips twitch upward. He’s so beautiful like this, with the orange glow of the evening light on his skin. Denki likes him so much.

When he gets to his room, he changes into his most comfortable clothes. He puts on his cry sesh hoodie, the big, fluffy yellow one that he always wears when he feels bad. He doesn’t even open his backpack, doesn’t open his phone where he’s already erased every trace of his research from the night before.

He makes sure the hallways are empty as he walks to Hitoshi’s room, and he knocks twice as he always does. For how chaotic Denki usually is, he likes patterns and familiarity sometimes. Like a hoodie for bad days and two knocks on a door, tap - tap.

Hitoshi opens the door and lets him in. He’s in his pyjamas already, as he always is the second he gets to his room. Denki likes this about him, the speed with which he gets comfortable in his own space.

He closes the door behind them and sits at his desk, one foot under his thigh. Denki sits on the floor, and tries to look better than he feels. He doesn’t think the squad or Hitoshi know what the hoodie is, but he hasn’t particularly tried to hide it from them either. And Hitoshi is observant – enough to notice a piece of clothing worn on every bad days, maybe.  

His friend stays quiet. He never asks questions, in moments like these; he always waits for the other person to talk first. Denki brings his knees close to his chest, rests his head on them, and plays with the hem of his pants.

“Hypothetically…” he starts.

This is so stupid. No one who says “hypothetically” really means it. And yet, he can’t help himself. He needs to talk about this, needs to say out loud all the things in his chest before he explodes. But he needs to do it safely.

“What do you do, when you discover that someone who’s always been good might have done bad things ? Or, maybe they were only good to you, and maybe you think it’s a bit of your fault if they did bad things.”

Hitoshi hums and looks up, thinking. His arms are loosely crossed over his chest, a faded band tee-shirt that’s too thin to be worn outside of his room on his shoulders.

“Well, you can’t control what other people do,” he says, “You can’t control them being good to you, just like you can’t control them being bad to others. Why would it be your fault ?”

“I don’t know. It’s all hypothetical, of course. But maybe you pushed them to do something bad unconsciously, or maybe you encouraged them down a bad path, or maybe… Maybe you abandoned them in a cruel world that hated them, and if everyone calls you a monster, why not become one ?”

At this, Hitoshi furrows his eyebrow and sits straighter. Denki follows, anxious and impatient for reassurances.

“People called me a Villain, but I still wanted to be a Hero. And I did it. So if, hypothetically, someone was called a monster… They just have to stop listening.”

“But what if you were the only one who believed in them and then you left ? What if there was no one else, no one else at all, and-”

“Denki.”

“What ?”

Hitoshi isn’t mean. He may be blunt and direct, but he isn’t mean on purpose. It still feels a bit too close to violence, when he talks next.

“That’s not hypothetical, is it ?”

“It is ! It is hypothetical, because if it isn’t, it means I… I did that. I made them that way.”

“Did you mean to ? Abandon them, I mean.”

“No, of course not. I had no choice,” he defends, shaking his head too hard.

“Then it’s not your fault.”

Part of Denki screams it can’t be that easy and you deserved everything that happened to you for abandoning her and your fault ! your fault ! your fault !. At Hitoshi’s words, the voice quiets down, just a bit. Just for now.

“Just like that ?”

“Just like that.”

Hitoshi stands up from his chair, but instead of kicking Denki out he just crouches down so they’re eyes to eyes. His pupils are large in the dark of the room, the purple of his iris closer to black.

“If they were good to you, it means they can be good to other people. Means they can be good again. People aren’t all black or white. We’re all human.”

“You really think so ?” Denki asks.

“I do. Don’t you ?”

Denki laughs at that, something short and quiet.

“Yeah. I believe in people, you know.”

“I know. You believed in me.”

God, how pretty he is. How intense and safe and precious he is, Hitoshi Shinso.

“Of course I did,” Denki says much too softly.

When he gets back to his room later, he decides that it doesn’t matter. Maybe Himiko has done bad things. Maybe it was self-defence, maybe not. The Himiko he knows wouldn’t have killed for fun, but he isn’t sure he really knows her at all anymore.

And Denki has also hurt people. He fought in the same war she did; and although he doesn’t have a count, he knows his actions have participated in people’s deaths.

So maybe she’s not the same as she was as a kid.

But Denki has changed, too.

He’s both louder and quieter, more anxious, more optimistic. He remembers their separation and Control School like a brand, the years apart burned into his skin in Lichtenberg patterns.

He told on other kids so he wouldn’t get punished, and he acts like his parents’ movements don’t make him flinch. They both make it seem like the only pain their household has ever known was Denki’s sparks on their skins, anyway.

And maybe, Denki doesn’t want to care about the things Himiko has done. Maybe for her, he’s willing to forgive things he would never forgive anyone else for. Maybe he wants to be selfish, this time, and keep her kind and good in his heart.

She’s his sister, after all.

What wouldn’t you do, for your sister ?

Chapter Text

Lately, Hitoshi has been more... touchy.

Denki is, by nature and by trauma, a touchy person. He holds onto the people he loves like they might slip away at any moment, high-fives his friends when something good happens, drapes over Eijirō and Hanta during movie nights... Even Katsuki has gotten used to it, with time.

When he first met Hitoshi, he didn't seem to be a big fan of touch, which is okay. To each their own. Sure it broke his heart a little bit, at first, but that's alright. He's gone through worse.

It's been many, many, months since Hitoshi stopped shying away from side hugs and touches to demand attention.

One time, Mina told Denki "he lets you be all over him, but he steps away when I laugh because he knows I always hit people in that moment. He only lets you touch him like that, sweetheart."

And once he paid attention, Denki realised it was true. Hitoshi never seemed to mind his touches, but with other people, he always somehow managed to lean away from their hands. Quite impressively, actually.

Lately, though, things have been different. Lately, Hitoshi will stand closer than usual next to Denki. Lately, when he sits, Hitoshi's knee will bump Denki's and stay here. Lately, Hitoshi will touch his elbow or his back before talking, like he's saying hey, look at me.

Denki is always looking at him. He looks at Hitoshi when he stretches, listening for the satisfying noise he makes when his bones pop in the morning.

He looks at Hitoshi when he fights, forehead sweaty and muscles taught, confident in his steps.

He looks at Hitoshi examining his fingernails, picking at threads in his hero uniform, drinking coffee in the morning when he's all soft eyes and quiet sighs.

At the start, Hitoshi would often look up and their eyes would meet, and he'd say "You're staring."

Denki would deny it and look away but inevitably, his eyes would land on Hitoshi again a few minutes later. There's something magnetising about him, the purple of his hair, the bored attitude he wears all the time like a facade, the way he always crosses his arms when he's waiting for something or someone.

Now, when Hitoshi says it, Denki smiles and hums and keeps watching. And because Hitoshi's lips curve in a little smile, Denki knows it's okay.

Sometimes, even, he catches Hitoshi looking at him. When he's laughing so hard his stomach hurts, when he's frustrated by difficult lessons, when he dances to whatever music is stuck in his head.

Hitoshi sees him. From the start, his attention has felt almost overwhelming.

Denki adores his friends, and he's pretty certain they love him too, but very early on they stopped really listening.

Denki knows he talks a lot. He likes talking, likes the vibration in his throat, likes the sensory experience of speaking whatever comes to mind. He has so many thoughts at the same time that it's difficult to keep everything for himself. Because he talks a lot, often to share information only he finds interesting, people quickly stop listening.

Hitoshi never stops. When Denki talks, Hitoshi's eyes are on him. He never flails, never looks away. When Denki opens his mouth, he has Hitoshi's full attention. And when they hang out sometimes, just the two of them, Hitoshi will bring up something Denki doesn't even remember talking about the week before.

Every single time, it makes his chest fill with something warm and soft. It makes him feel seen, feel loved in a way he hasn't felt in many years. Since Himiko, actually. 

When everyone's talking and no one is listening to Denki, Hitoshi is. In any place, Denki knows he can look for his friend's eyes and be looked at, listened to.

And when Hitoshi stands close, when their knees touch, when his fingers brush against Denki's sleeve, his attention feels even more.

Denki lies in bed at night and thinks about the touches, face in hands, trying to rub away the blushing of his cheeks.

Then he gets used to it, and there's no reason to panic about something that's become usual. Hitoshi lets himself be touched and he touches Denki back, and it's something between the two of them that feels natural.

Denki helps Mina with hair wash days, attaches Hanta's bracelets, compliments Katsuki's cooking, times Eijirio's workouts, and sometimes, on the way back from class, he holds Hitoshi's hand.

That's just how things are.

Life goes on, and it’s easy to get used to Himiko’s presence. Denki still misses her, still thinks about all the things they haven’t had time to say yet, all the hard truths he wants her to know, all the fear and pain she wasn’t there to witness.

He tries to be braver. He tries to talk about Before, about childhood memories that aren’t too bleak. He carefully avoids mentions of his parents or their hands, lunches eaten alone in a bathroom stall and perpetual headaches from trying to wring in something as free as electricity.

He doesn’t say too much. Silence has always been safety.

Sometimes, Denki tries to tell Hitoshi about his childhood.

When they're lying in bed so close Denki can feel Hitoshi's body warmth, and their fingers brush every time one of them moves. When he’s here, close and real and soft and the universe seems to hold its breath for them. It’s the safest Denki has ever felt, and yet…

Every time he opens his mouth, takes a breath, and nothing comes out. His stomach tightens too much, his heart goes up to his throat, and he closes his lips again. He always looks away before he can meet Hitoshi's curious eyes, and finds another, safe subject to mention instead.

But he’ll ask Hitoshi about her sometimes. Not too often, not too much, but he can’t help it. She seems lonely, in the back of the class. Denki knows what loneliness feels like, and he hates that he’s making her go through this (again).

Gods, the guilt is almost unbearable some nights, when it’s just him and his thoughts. He skips the sad songs that make him feel worse until he doesn’t, and he hates how comfortable it is to feel bad.

When he’s sad, it’s like he’s never been happy before. He can’t recall what it feels like to laugh or feel the joy of a warm ray of sunshine on his skin. It’s just him and an all-encompassing sadness, and anger at himself so strong it’s almost scary.

Denki hates himself most of the time. He’s too loud, too annoying, too much, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not kind enough. He can’t stand himself most days. He tries not to think about it too much. But now, with her so close but so far because of him, the hate grows and grows and grows.

Himiko loved him enough that it felt okay, the way he could never really look at his reflection. She loved him loudly enough that sometimes he liked himself a little bit (when he wasn’t home, when he didn’t spark anyone, when he didn’t feel like crying).

Control School destroyed everything Himiko had built. All at once, violently, with words and gestures and lessons he can barely recall but can still feel.

With a sigh, Denki turns around once again and checks the time on his phone. 2:46am.

He can’t stop thinking tonight, about so many things all at once, and his eyes feel warm with unshed tears.

He groans as he rubs his eyes. His body is tired, but his mind isn’t. Most nights are like that, but some are harder than others.

He sits up, blinking in the dark and putting on his slippers after feeling around the floor with his feet. He’s just going to get a glass of water, go to the toilet, and when he comes back he’ll try sleeping the other way around, with his feet where his head usually is. It works a little bit, sometimes.

The hallway lights turn on automatically as he opens his door and closes it behind himself quietly. He shuts his eyes tightly at the sudden change in lighting, and walks blindly to the stairs. He knows the place well enough now to only need the tip of his fingers following the wall to be able to navigate.

He’s careful to be quiet as he walks down, not wanting to get comments from Iida the next day. His eyes get used to the light and he opens them again, feeling miserable and angsty.

The lights are on in the kitchen, and Denki slows down. He can hear whispers, voices he thinks he can recognise.

He really doesn’t feel like seeing anyone at the moment, and he thinks about going back to his room before he finally gets close enough to pick up on what his friends are talking about.

"Listen, he.... ugh, I'm not going to spill his stuff like that, but he's asked for my help before, about something regarding her. And he's talked to me about her, yes," Hanta says.

"I see. And do you have an idea what's going on ?" Hitoshi asks hesitantly.

Denki rests against the wall, betrayal and fear battling in his stomach. Behind him, Hanta sighs and sets something down on the kitchen counter. A mug, Denki thinks, because Hanta will sometimes get up at night for chamomile tea. Or talk behind his friends’ back, it seems.

"Not at all, honestly. He assured me he was safe, assured me she was safe. Since he seemed okay and I'm a good friend, I let it go. But it's true he's been acting strange lately."

"Strange how ?" Hitoshi asks.

"Maybe... more distant, I'd say ? Like he's trying to hide something. Sometimes I think he's about to say something, and he has this look on his face like he’s really fucking scared of saying it but then he..."

"He deflects and asks about your latest favourite movie or music or video game ?"

Hanta laughs but it's dry, rough. Denki’s shoulders climb up, and he feels warm shame in his stomach. He’s so transparent, apparently.

"Yeah,” Hanta says.

They keep quiet after that, and Denki is careful that his slippers don't brush against the floor as he walks back up the stairs.

He's not as good of a liar as he thought, it seems. Isn't it terrible, how they both agreed about how obvious it is that he's hiding stuff ?

It makes him feel horrible. It doesn't feel great that they're talking about it together, either. Do all his friends do this ? Does Mina know, does Eijirō, does Katsuki ?

No, Katsuki would not stay quiet. He doesn't always pay a lot of attention to people's moods, either, although he's a good friend. If he had noticed anything, he would’ve told Denki to… get his head out of his ass, or something.

When Denki lies at night with Hitoshi, does his friend wonder about his secrets ? Does he look and try to guess ? Has he guessed ?

Denki was just starting to find the words to explain things, too. It mostly involves a lot of sorrys and a lot of begging for understanding, but still.

In his bedside table, next to the picture of Himiko and him, lies a paper with apologies scribbled out, explanations and excuses and childhood memories. Not conclusive enough, not confident enough.

Denki knows it will be hard to convince his friends that Himiko is good. That she's worth the time, the effort, the love. He's heard the way they talk about her, about villains when they don't differentiate between the two.

Himiko comes with so many things. Explaining Himiko means explaining his quirk and his parents, means explaining Control School.

One time, months ago, when the war was still a faraway fear, Katsuki talked about Control Schools.

It's for the weak, he said. I've heard bad things happen here, Mina added. Can you imagine being so bad at handling your quirk that you get sent there ? Hanta said. Easy for him to say, when his quirk isn't potentially deadly.

At the time Denki had kept quiet, brows sweating and stomach tight. He laughed and nodded and didn't say a word, too nauseous for it. He'd had nightmares for an entire week after that, dreaming of small dark rooms and water-filled floors and a teacher's hands on him.

Since everything about him is apparently so obvious, why don’t they already know about all this ? That would save Denki some trouble, not having to talk about it.

He knows they’re probably just worried friends who want to help. He knows Hanta and Hitoshi aren’t mean.

Still, the betrayal leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chapter Text

Denki is angry. 

Hanta said he’s been distant, lately, so now Denki doesn’t reach out for him when there’s a joke to be shared. He doesn’t hold Hitoshi’s hand, either. He talks with them and he’s polite and funny, but he wants them to know he’s pissed. 

They could’ve come to him. They could’ve asked. 

They walk to lunch and Denki keeps his hands in his pocket, but Hitoshi still walks by his side.

“So,” he starts.

“What ?” Denki says, too short.

Hitoshi sends him a side-eye and Denki feels his cheeks warm, embarrassed by how he’s acting. 

“I have a question about Toga,” Hitoshi finally says, voice pitched low so their friends can’t hear.

Denki’s feet slow, and he crosses his arms over his chest protectively. He’s heard a lot of bad things about Himiko for months, and with how shitty he’s feeling right now, he can’t say how he’ll react if Hitoshi says something mean this time.

“Are you… Attracted to her ?”

“What ? Oh my gods, no, ew that’s gross, ew-“

“Alright, okay, I get it. Sorry for assuming, I thought you liked girls.”

“I do ! But not only girls. I’m, uh- I’m bisexual. By the way. If you even care.”

There’s a wave of terrified nausea, regret regret regret but also hope- and Hitoshi opens his mouth to answer something, probably “YES I KNOW YOU LOOK AT ME GAYLY EVERY SINGLE DAY AND YOU SHOULD BURN IN HELL FOR IT”, when a shout interrupts them. 

“Denki !” Himiko’s voice screams, and he swings around so fast he sees stars. 

He sees no one at first, but he looks down when a weight hits his knees. And there she is : Himiko, as he remembered her for years, cheeks pink and twin buns on her head. 

Denki’s body moves before he can think. He crouches down, takes her in his arms and stands back up, stepping back hurriedly and shielding her with his body. She’s scream-giggling, and she wears a dress with an unwashable grass stain. She loved this dress, as a child. Which she is now, apparently ? 

She still has baby fat in her cheeks and twinkling eyes. 

“Why are you old ?” she asks.

“What ? Why are you not ? What happened ?”

He looks at his friends as he talks, holding her tight against him, ready to… run, or fight. Or do whatever he needs to protect her. They flinch at the way he holds her, furrow their eyebrows at the sight of them. They don’t understand. 

“What the hell-“

“Is this Toga ?”

“What is she doing here ?”

“Oh, she’s so cute-“

“And what the fuck are you doing, Dunce-“

“Denki, what’s going on ? Where are we ?” Himiko asks, voice quiet. 

They all stop talking, waiting for his answer. This time, he looks at her. She must be around six years old and she’s heavy. If she can’t tell where she is, what else has she forgotten ? 

Who did this to her ? 

“Right, uh, we should probably… Find an adult. I’ll explain, okay ?” Denki tells his friends, “I’ll explain everything. Just… not now.”

He feels choked up, all the things he’s been trying to hide and grapple with catching up to him. She’s here, in his arms, and there is no way to hide the way this girl is his sister in all but blood. Gods, no, he would never ignore her like this, never act like he can’t recognise the girl he’s played with every day for years.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, “I’ll protect you.”

She’s always been so strong, his big sister. She’s always done her best to protect him (and him, her). Denki hears Mina choke on her saliva and he carefully lets Himiko down, knowing he’ll need his hands if he has to fight.

He keeps her hand in his, and doesn’t even realize the way he puts his body between her and them. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to protect. Himself, maybe. 

He leads them to a bench close by, and she sighs happily as she hops on. Has she been running ? Her hair is undone on one side and she looked flushed when she arrived. What happened to her ? How long has she been like this ?

“You’re very pretty, miss,” she tells Mina.

The pink girl blinks and stammers a thank you. Behind them, Hitoshi is on the phone. Katsuki is fuming and confused, and Eijirō is trying to calm him down but he looks just as lost. Hanta has this look in his eyes, like he’s starting to put together pieces of a puzzle.

“Is this your school ?” Himiko asks Denki.

“Uh, yes. This is UA.”

“The Hero School ?”

“The Hero School.”

The little girl lights up. She smiles widely in a way he hasn’t seen in years, fangs showing fully and eyes crinkling in the corners.

“So you’re a Hero ? That’s awesome ! I knew you could do it,” she nods, “I always knew.”

This is why he loves her so much, he thinks. Himiko has always believed in him fully, entirely, wanting nothing in return. 

But of course, Denki has also always believed in her. She could’ve done anything, his big sister. He smiles at her, too conscious of his friends so close by and watching everything like hawks. 

Himiko looks up and starts biting one of her nails, a sign that she’s trying hard to remember something. Denki redoes her hair as they wait for an adult to come so he doesn’t have to look at his friends- and because she deserves nice hair and he knows how much she hates the feeling of it on the nape of her neck.

“You found her ?” Aizawa’s voice interrupts his thoughts. 

He isn’t as fast as he used to, with his prosthetic leg. It’s still fast, if he was coming from the teacher’s lounge. He looks around before his eyes fall on her, and she scoots closer to Denki. 

“Denki, what’s going on ?” she asks him quietly.

“This is my teacher, Aizawa-sensei. You can trust him, okay ? He’s going to…”

Denki looks up at his teacher, trailing off. He’s not sure, actually.

“We’re going to the Principal’s office. It’s pretty clear that a quirk was involved, so we’ll need as much information as we can to find the culprit. She can’t wander around looking like this, anything could’ve happened to her.”

She looks at Denki and he nods at her, pushing her back gently so she hops down the bench. It’s okay. Denki trusts Aizawa more than any other adult in this school.

“Go on, Himi-chan. He’s going to take care of you.”

“I want to stay with you !” she exclaims.

“That’s probably better, actually. I don’t want to do this, but they’re going to want an explanation from you, too.”

He gestures vaguely at them, and Denki realizes he’s still holding her hand. She squeezes twice, a reminder and a question, and he squeezes back. I’m here, he says, and we’ll be okay. 

“He didn’t do anything,” she says before they can start walking, “I’m the one who… I did something wrong again, right ?”

She sounds so anxious, and Denki closes his eyes and turns away so she can’t see the pain etched on his face. He knows how she feels. He knows exactly how she feels. Aizawa sighs and steps closer. Soon, people will start coming out of lunch. 

“We’ll see, but I doubt it. Come on, classes are going to start again soon and we don’t want to get through crowded hallways. Hitoshi, text Hizashi to explain the situation. He’ll want to be here if he can. The rest of you, shoo. Don’t talk to anyone about this, understood ? I’ll be busy for the next… Hopefully, no more than four hours, so class will be free studies.”

“Seriously, that’s all ? What the fuck is this, Pikachu ?” Katsuki rages.

“Hey ! Don’t talk to my little brother like that ! I’ll bite you !” Himiko spits out, teeth bared.

Denki stammers something, and there’s a chorus of little brother ? and what the fuck ? around.

“Children, children. Calm down. Bakugou, don’t pick a fight with a child. And don’t pick a fight with Kaminari either for now.”

“For now ?” Denki mumbles under his breath, already dreading seeing them all later.

They follow Aizawa through deserted hallways, the man surprisingly quick on his prosthetic. Denki never lets go of Himiko’s hand.

They soon reach a room full of Pro Heroes and people in suits. Nedzu is here too, and Denki can recognise All Might and a few other Heroes he’s fought with before. 

"You're all Heroes ? Did you come to get me ?" Himiko asks through the cacophony.

"Get you from where ?" says a mean-looking woman on their left.

"Oh, right, I forgot I don't deserve it. Sorry."

It’s like a punch to the chest, or maybe like the first time he used his quirk too much. Denki isn’t thinking when he holds her shoulders and turns her around to face him, praying and hoping that he heard wrong. She’s so young. She’s too young. 

"What did you say ?"

"Don't you know ? Heroes only come to save those who deserve it. I'm too... You know about my quirk," she finishes, shy, embarrassed.

Denki feels her words like knives to the heart. Yes, he knows. He knows too well what it was like, her parents who never yelled until they did, the horrendous words he’s heard resonate through his bedroom window countless times.

But she’s never said it. She’s never verbalized the way their words and inactions made her feel, just like Denki has never talked about the way his parents’ violence made him feel.

There’s a moment, where everyone around them stops talking. Heroes only come to save those who deserve it, the child says. Do the Heroes around the table think about all the people who didn’t deserve it ?

“Can you confirm your identity, young lady ?” All Might says kindly.

“I’m Himiko Toga, I’m seven, my quirk is Transform.”

“We believe you were hit by a de-aging quirk !” announces Nedzu.

Right, that’s what Denki thought too. She only seems to realise it now, that it’s her who’s changed and not him. If only she knew.

“What did I do ? I did something wrong, right ?” she asks Denki, quiet as mouse.

“Kaminari, explain your relationship with her.”

He immediately straightens his back, wavering where he stands but keeping his hand in hers. It would be more comfortable if they could sit. Like that, standing in front of an audience, it feels like Denki’s being trialled. For what, he doesn’t know yet.

And for the first time, he talks about it.

“We knew each other when we were children, but we lost contact five years ago. I promise I didn’t know anything about her whereabouts until the Training Camp battle, and we didn’t communicate at all after that.” It’s not as relieving as he thought, to put it into words.

“How can we be sure he’s telling the truth ? Bring Officer Naomasa in ! One of your students was a traitor, and this one has a lot of reasons to be one too.”

“Do not talk about my students like this. There’s no need to bring Officer Naomasa into this. Her phone was searched by the best after her arrest, and we found no trace of communication with anyone outside of the L.O.V.”

“He has an electric quirk, doesn’t he ? He can have found a way to communicate with her !”

“Are you implying that your team is too incompetent for a 15-year-old child ?”

“Silence, everyone !”

At Nedzu’s call, everyone quiets down. Denki feels sick with anxiety, and he can already hear Himiko complaining about his clammy hands. He squeezes twice, and Aizawa finally gestures for them to sit. 

It feels like he might make things worse for her, like he’s been fearing for months. 

Chapter Text

Everyone is loud, all the adults talking at once.

Denki’s heart beats hard in his chest and he feels small, so small. It’s like he’s six years old again at home, wanting nothing more than to hide from his parents’ screams. 

The anxiety makes his stomach tight, and he feels sweat dripping at the nape of his neck. He swallows with difficulty, throat closing up around apologies he can’t say here. 

But there is his sister next to him, a little girl who doesn’t even know why she’s here, and so Denki must be brave. It’s always been easier, being brave for other people.

“You insisted on her rehabilitation, even though a lot of us were against it, EraserHead. It’s evident she picked a fight with someone, and they defended themselves by using their quirk. She should be sent away,” says a horrible man with a weird mustache.

“It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you if I tell you she isn’t the most appreciated in this school. We don’t know what happened. There were no traces of a fight, and we can’t rule out the possibility of it being intentional.”

“Why don’t we ask her ? What did you do ?” a man spits at her.

Denki’s entire body tenses as their eyes turn back to her. Himiko’s shoulders climb up and her feet stop swaying. She doesn’t look at him, but her hand twitches in his.

“I don’t remember, I was home and then I woke up here, I promise,” she says.

“What about this one, then ? He says he didn’t see her during the war, but they look very close to me.”

Her hand slips out of his but he barely notices, panic spreading through his veins like wildfire.

“We were very close when she was seven !” he exclaims, “We were neighbors and we both had… a difficult time at home, so we became friends. I moved when I was ten, and she ran away when she was fourteen. We never got the chance to see each other again. Sensei, I’m telling the truth,” he finishes, turning to Aizawa with pleading eyes.

“I know, Kaminari.”

“Let’s all be calm, please” interrupts All Might. 

“This is ridiculous,” starts another Hero, “we need to decide what to do with her before she decides to hurt someone. We need a new electronic bracelet as soon as possible.”

Aizawa’s fist hit the table and Denki startles, shoulders inching higher as he tries to disappear.  

“What she needs is to see Recovery Girl to make sure she’s healthy. Hizashi or I will keep an eye on her. I’m pretty certain I can restrain a seven-year-old if she does try to hurt someone, but I doubt she will. She is just a child for the moment. Nedzu, look through the students’ list for de-aging quirks.”

“You all have pretty understandable concerns, of course ! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

There are more screams, more accusations, and they turn to Denki again and again and again. His words are on repeat, we separated and there was no contact and he doesn’t beg for their understanding out loud but he knows it must bleed through all of his words. 

Every sudden movement makes him flinch, and he expects a pain that never comes. It’s impossible to calm down : there is no rationality to the way he feels frozen in place by a fear and guilt so deep he may never reach the bottom.

At some point, when everyone is yelling at each other and not him, he turns to his sister. Her eyes are closed, her fists closed tightly, and if he listens hard, he thinks he can hear her whisper I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry under her breath.

He feels sick with it. 

(He wants to say it, too.)

The door opens and closes quietly, and then Present Mic is here. He lays his hands on their shoulders, and crouches down to look at Himiko in the eyes.

“Let’s go to the infirmary. Let them yell at each other, okay ? You’re alright,” he says with a playful wink.

“I want Denki with me,” her voice wavers.

His hand finds hers again easily, although his eyes are stuck to the adults in the room, his entire body like a spring, ready to run or burst into tears.

Yamada ushers them out, and when the door closes and the noise dies down considerably, Denki’s heart starts beating again. He follows his teacher through the hallways blindly, holding onto Himiko’s hand and breathing deeply and slowly. 

By the time they reach the infirmary, his hands feel less clammy and his heart beats (almost) normally again. The old nurse turns around in her chair at their arrival, and she exchanges a few words with their teacher before her eyes sweep over Denki and then land on Himiko.

“Hello. I’m Recovery Girl, I’m the school nurse. How do you feel ?”

“Uhm,” she starts, “I don’t know. Hungry.”

“Hungry for food ?”

Uh. Denki looks down as Himiko looks up, but she seems as surprised as him. He’s never told anyone about her need for blood; he knows she hasn’t either. He’s certain Ochako is the one exception. 

He sends a quick look to their teacher, who doesn’t react except for a furrow of his eyebrows. Recovery Girl hands Himiko a chocolate bar, and Denki remembers he’s also missed lunch. 

His sister doesn’t know her height or weight, so Recovery Girl has her step on a scale and measure her. She scribbles the results on a paper, and then tells Himiko she can rest up.

Yamada helps set her up on the bed, and Denki sits next to her, carding a hand through his hair and sighing. 

“Things are confusing, aren’t they ?” he says.

“Yeah,” she answers, “but I think I got it. I did something really bad, and someone made me like this ? And we’re not… friends anymore ?”

It’s terribly sad, to hear the truth come from her when she’s so small. Denki tries to offer a reassuring smile and pulls her into a quick hug. He’s never stopped thinking of her as his friend, as his sister, but it’s true that things have been different for a very long time, now. Their relationship is certainly unlike any of Denki’s other friendships.

“Life separates friends, sometimes. But now you’re here, and I’m here, and we’re together, okay ?”

It makes her smile, at least. 

“I really don’t remember what happened, I promise. Mister Hizashi, are you going to call my parents ?”

“Well, the law is very clear on de-aging quirks. We’re obligated to contact your parents to inform them of the situation, but considering… the specifics of your situation, you’ll stay here and they will come to you.”

“Don’t call her parents,” Denki says before he can think about it.

Hizashi looks at him for a while, silent and searching, then he sits on the other side of Himiko. 

“Will you tell me why you don’t want me to call them ?”

They both look at her, and Himiko squirms in place. She hesitates, and Denki pulls her a little tighter against his side. He doesn’t think she’s ever told anyone other than him; he’s never told anyone other than her about his parents. The closest he’s come was in that terrifying room full of screaming people, when he said we both had difficult home lives.

Himiko looks down at her stained skirt, playing with the hem to hide her nervousness. Denki notices it, because he does it too. He wonders which of them gave the habit to the other.

“My parents don’t like me,” she starts. “They’re scared of my quirk. Of me. They say… They say I’m a Monster. They say I’m crazy. They don’t really talk to me much, or- or touch me, or look at me. And sometimes dad gets angry and mum cries because of me but I… I can’t not do it. I don’t understand why I’m the only one like this, but I don’t want to die so I drink blood from Denki and pretty birds. And I swear I didn’t touch Miss Hana’s cat, it wasn’t me. I’ve never eaten a cat.”

He wonders how it feels, for her. Is it terrifying ? Is it relieving ? Does it feel okay, to talk about it ? Will it even help ? Parts of why Denki has never talked about his parents is that, truly, what was there to be done ? And now that things are a bit better, what’s the use in mentioning it ?

But for Himiko, she doesn’t remember leaving. She only remembers their words and punishments. She’s seven years old and it’s all she’s ever known. 

“Okay. Okay, we- god, we won’t call your parents. Little Bat, look at me, please.”

Little Bat, he thinks. 

She’s loved, he understands, and his eyes feel warm with relief for a girl he loves more than himself.

“Can I explain this to my friend ? We’re your legal guardians at the moment, and he’s in charge of your file.”

How is Aizawa going to react ? Denki knows how protective he is of his ‘children’. And after what happened, after seeing him run to her in the courtyard, slam his fists on the table to defend her, Denki knows he’ll be angry at this, too.

At least she can be safe. At least they might be able to save her. 

After some time, Himiko nods softly and Yamada gestures for Denki to leave her. They pull the bed curtain close, and Denki knows just by looking at his teacher’s face that he has questions. 

He keeps his voice quiet and Denki does too, not wanting Himiko to hear whatever they’re about to say.

“Are you okay, Kaminari ?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s never told anyone else about her parents, so I think she knows she can trust you. That’s good,” he smiles at his teacher.

“It is. The law on de-aging quirks states that if there is suspicion of child abuse, we don’t have to call the parents. However, that depends on how long the quirk’s effects will last. If she stays as she is for longer than a month, we’re obligated to contact them and have child abuse protective services take a look at the situation.”

“I’m sorry,” Denki says without knowing why.

His teacher offers him a kind smile, and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. None of this is your fault. And, Kaminari ?”

“Yeah ?”

“If you have trouble at home, you know you can always, always come to EraserHead or me for help. Understood ? We are here to help”

“Yes, I- yes,” he stutters, “but everything’s okay now. I mean, I’m okay. We’re okay. Things are… yeah.”

The Hero looks at him for some time, and his face softens.

“You have very good friends, Little Listener. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is the scary one : talk about it.”

Denki grimaces involuntarily, and Present Mic laughs a little.

“I know,” he says “I’m not very good at it myself. But it really can help.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to my friends. About Himiko, and our childhood, my childhood, but… I’m so scared that they’ll laugh, or dismiss me, or take it too seriously. I’m just… scared.”

“Then do it scared.”

Oh.  

Oh, he’s right. Denki has done scary things before. He went to war so terrified he felt sick for days before and after. He almost lost the people he loves the most in this world, and he carried that fear for days after, waiting to hear from everyone still alive. 

“Maybe you’re onto something,” he tells Yamada.

“Aah, you’ll learn that I’m always right.”

“Does Aizawa agree ?”

He laughs quietly, and Denki’s surprised he’s even able to do that, before he remembers Eri and Aizawa’s constant napping. Even Present Mic would learn to be quiet for his family. 

“Sensei ? Will you take care of her ?”

“We are. We’re taking care of her as much as she lets us.”

“She deserves it,” he says, and he thinks of her undone hair and the size of her hand in his.

“She does, and so do you. I’m going to talk to Recovery Girl and Shouta for a bit. You can stay here.”

Denki thanks his teacher, and lets his body fall into the nearest seat. His phone has only just stopped buzzing. With a few deep breaths, he works through the knot of anxiety in his stomach and opens the Bakugang groupchat. 

Chapter Text

Gyaru Attack!!!!!

Where are you going????? R u okay ??

Low-cost Spiderman 

nobody wants to tell us what’s going on

shinso even texted Aizawa, no answer

The Rock 

Are you safe man ? :( If youre not, make the lights flicker

Omg was that you or am I hallucinating

Gyaru Attack!!!!!

Def hallucinating cuz what are you even talking about boyyy

Lord Explosion Murder

You have some shit to tell us.

Gyaru Attack!!!!!

We’ll wait for you in Hanta’s room ok ??? Come see us after !!!!

Low-cost Spiderman 

we’re not mad, we just wanna make sure youre good

Lord Explosion Murder

I am mad and I want some fucking explanation too but yeah stop ignoring us and text back

Sleepless Cat

Hope you’re both alright. Text me if you need. 

Storming In

hey guys

sorry we got yelled at fir like an hour. Infirmary now just to see if shes ok (she is)

waiting for Aizawa to shox up i think ?

im ok too

He barely has to wait a few seconds before the texts come pouring in, even though his friends are definitely still in class. 

With a wince, he sends a quick “I’ll explain everything later” text, and turns Do Not Disturb on. 

He eats a snack Recovery Girl gives him and nods to the students who pass through to the infirmary from time to time.

Mostly, he just thinks a lot. About how he’s going to say things, how each of his friends will react, and what he can say when they do. Katsuki’s going to be angry, of course. Hanta too, maybe. He’s the one who deserves answers the most, having helped him at the start of the year without asking questions.

Eijirō might take the news the best. He’s a good man, Eijiro, a good friend. He always says he’s working on his open-mindedness. 

Mina will squeal and scream and feel betrayed, probably. She’s told them a lot about herself, and it’s like it’s easy for her to be vulnerable. When she has bad days, she says it, and she asks for help or support or hugs out loud, with none of the shame Denki feels.

Finally, after he’s spiralled the same thoughts again and again until he feels almost sick with it, the door opens and Aizawa comes in. 

“Sensei,” Denki says as he gets up.

He doesn’t know what to expect. Punishment, reassurance, indifference ? (He isn’t sure which one would be worse.)

“Kaminari. How are you ?”

“I- aah, well. I’ve been better, but that doesn’t matter. I mean, I’m fine,” he adds quickly at Aizawa’s furrowed eyebrows. 

“You can come talk to me if needed. You also know how to contact the school’s therapist.”

They all had mandatory sessions after the war. Denki often wondered if the therapist, too, had to go to therapy. They probably would, right ?

“I’ll bring her home. Go back to your dorm, you’ve been excused for the afternoon.”

“Thanks, teach’.”

Aizawa pulls the bed curtain open, and Himiko blinks herself awake. Denki’s phone pings with a new message, but he doesn’t look at it and puts his phone back in his pocket. He’ll deal with it later, when he’s alone and not worried about being caught crying.

“It seems you’re healthy,” Aizawa says to Himiko, “Hizashi explained your situation, so we won’t have to call your parents. We’re currently searching for the person responsible for this, and we’ll know more once we have them. Most de-aging quirks aren’t permanent, thankfully, so for now we’ll go back home. Is that okay with you ?”

The little girl looks at Denki, and he nods reassuringly. She’ll be okay with Aizawa and Yamada. This, he knows he can trust in.

He says bye with a hug, remembering how it felt to be held by her after bad days. Classes are still on for a couple of hours, so Denki doesn’t come across anyone as he walks back to the dorms. He walks quickly; he feels anxious, and he doesn’t like to be seen in moments like these.

He changes into comfortable clothes as soon as he steps foot in his bedroom, and rehearses the words he found some hours ago. Will they be enough ? 

The clock ticks slowly, and he startles when someone knocks on his door. He recognises Hitoshi’s soft scraping of knuckles on the wood, tap-tap, tap-tap.

He’s alone on the other side of the door. Thank Gods for that.

“Hi,” Denki says.

“Hey.”

They look at each other for a while, and then Denki takes a step and lets his head fall on Hitoshi’s shoulder. His friend’s hands come up immediately to rub his back, soothing.

“They’re in Sero’s room.”

“I figured,” Denki says, because Hanta has the best view from his balcony and the best internet connection, so his bedroom became the squad’s quarters very early on.

The walk is short and Denki could do it with his eyes closed, but every step is an effort. At least, Hitoshi’s hand is in his, and even though he hasn’t said anything he can’t be that mad, if he’s still holding on like this.

Denki wants to do this. He wants to tell them everything. He knows how he wants to do it. That doesn’t make it any easier. 

Hitoshi knocks, and lets go of his hand. Denki puts them in his pockets, not wanting his friends to see the way he’s fidgeting with his fingers.

There’s a chorus of hey when they come in, and Denki’s glad for the way their eyes look him over, a habit they all got after the war that’s hard to stop. They’re sitting or standing, on the floor, on the bed, leaning against a wall or a desk. Denki sits down on the floor, puts his knees to his chest, then slides his legs down, then folds them again differently. 

“Uh, I want to say… I want to say that I’m sorry, first. For not talking about stuff. I mean, it’s just- it’s difficult. To talk about it. And I’ve been trying, I swear, but it’s never the right moment or the right words and-“

He’s already losing track of what he had planned to say. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, focus. He’s not looking at them as he talks; he can’t.

“I want to tell you, but I want her to be here.”

They immediately start to protest and he cuts them off with a hand.

“It’s her story too. I know I haven’t been the most trustworthy lately, but just this time… Trust me ?”

“Why can’t you tell us now ?” Hitoshi asks, voice soft.

“Because you’ll want to hear it from her ! I know that ! I promise that I never did anything that could hurt you,” he says, and he looks at Katsuki.

Katsuki never talks about the bad moments either. He never talks about his kidnapping, about all the things before or after. But it’s Katsuki, so that’s normal. 

“But you always tell us stuff,” Mina says in a small voice.

“Do I ?”

It hurts to say it. Denki knows he’s good at deflection, at acting, at smiling when he doesn’t want to. Too good, it seems. 

“At least we’ll finally know what’s up with you lately.”

“I don’t want you to hurt,” Eijirō says, “and I want you to be honest with us. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t trust us.”

“I trust you.”

“Do you ?”

No. Not for that. Not until now. 

Himiko has been such a deep part of him for so long, after all. Talking about her means revealing the most intimate parts of him. And Denki knows he’s seen as this bright, funny person who’s always optimistic, so how do you admit that parts of you is always grieving and suffering ? How does he explain the hole in his chest where Himiko made a home ?

There is something he could talk about. Something just as terrifying, something he’s never told anyone before. 

Something even Himiko doesn’t know. And he will tell her, one day, but not at the same time as he tells them. 

“I won’t explain the thing with Himiko just yet, but I… I can tell you something else, if you want,” he mumbles. 

“Something important to you ?” Hanta asks.

“Yeah. The biggest lore drop of the year,” he tries to joke, but it falls flat. 

With a sigh, heart beating in his throat, hands clammy and shaking, Denki starts to talk. 

Chapter Text

That afternoon, their History professor announces a group project.

Denki looks around, and knows what he wants to do. He catches Hanta’s eyes, who looks to the back of the classroom and back at him with a smile.

It’s okay, his eyes say, and Denki gets up and walks to his oldest friend.

Hitoshi waves him over, and he’s glad that Himiko has friends. He shouldn’t be surprised that she gets along well with Hitoshi, but he is. He’s glad for it, of course. There is nothing quite like seeing the people you love start to love each other.

“Can I join you ?” Uraraka asks.

“Of course, Sweetheart. Wanna sit on my lap ?”

“Thanks, but I’ll take my chair,” she says with a laugh.

Denki tries not to laugh, but it’s hard. It’s cute, he thinks, and he already wants to tease Himiko about this. He’s allowed to, now, he thinks. Now that they’re friends again.

He sits across from her next to Hitoshi, who gives him one of his quiet, soft smiles, the one other people can never see.

Denki is so happy to be here, with some of the people he loves most in the world. Working together, sharing books and notes. But he’s also nervous.

It’s new, after all. Hitoshi knows, now, and what if he secretly hates him ? What if he secretly hates her ? His knee bounces and bounces and his stomach is tight with anxiety where is heart is full with joy.

Hitoshi looks at Himiko, intensely, like he’s trying to figure her out. Like he’s trying to put together the villain he knew and the child he discovered. Like he’s looking for pieces of Denki in her. (It’s so obvious, he thinks. He sees himself in her laugh and he sees her in his sass. Himiko has shaped Denki and he’s shaped her; they are inseparable, and no amount of time will ever untangle her from him and him from her.)

When Himiko looks at Denki, they share a smile, uncontrollable. He was brave today, but she was braver. She laid herself bare for everyone to see, she said out loud all the things Denki still struggles to say. She said my parents didn’t love me without flinching away from it.

Denki shows her his notebook with the colour coding Katsuki taught him and the doodles in the margins. He draws in Hitoshi’s notebook when he loses focus, and he’s gently brought back with a hand on his arm or Hitoshi’s fingers curling around his.

Himiko doesn’t have the phone (Denki thinks their relationship would’ve gotten better much sooner if she had one), so they set up a meeting time at Aizawa and Yamada’s house to keep working on the project.

Denki goes back to the dorm with Hitoshi’s hand in his and his heart calmer than it’s been in years.

It takes a few more days until Denki stops feeling like the words he wants to say scratch at his throat.

It takes a few more deep breathes, a few more deleted messages, a few more moments where he reaches with his hand, and let it fall too early.

He tells Hitoshi, first.

Hitoshi knows about difficult childhoods, he thinks. He’s collected bits and pieces of information, foster care and the way Hitoshi shuts down when things go wrong, scarily quiet like it’s a punishment he’s used to.

Denki doesn’t look at him the first time he says “my parents weren’t nice to me”. He looks into the low light of his room, illuminated by the light on his bedside table, Hitoshi laying on his back behind him. There is a tentative touch to his spine, but the other boy stays quiet.

This is the safest space Denki has, these days- laying in bed with him until curfew, held, touched, seen.

 Denki takes his most precious picture out of the nightstand.

In it, his face is squished with Himiko’s and they smile, peace signs done with the hands not holding the camera.

“Do you see the bruises ?” he asks, touching the cold paper where faint purple splotches can be seen on his younger self’s wrists.

Hitoshi hums, and it’s only when he puts his hand on Denki’s that he realizes he’s trembling.

“It took me a long time to have control of my quirk,” he says with difficulty, “and they didn’t like it when I sparked them.”

“So they hurt you ?”

Denki lets out a shaky breath, but doesn’t deny it.

“Is that why you became friends with her ?”

He laughs, voice creaky and wet.

“Yeah,” he says, “no one has known me like her. No one.”

“And are you safe from them, now ?”

“They only hit when they get really mad, and I make sure they never do.”

Hitoshi sighs, and stays quiet. Denki turns around to find open arms waiting for him, and he buries his face in his friend’s sweater. He shuts his eyes until he sees stars, fighting the tears. Then he feels the soft touch of Hitoshi’s lips on his head, and a hand caressing his hair, and the first sob comes out.

There is a weight he’s worn for years on his shoulders, and it disappears with the first tear.

When he tells the others the next day, Hitoshi sits next to him, touching arm to arm, thigh to thigh, grounding.

It isn’t any easier the second time around. He doesn’t look at them either, not as he admits his deepest, most shameful secret.

This time, the tears come when Mina whispers “it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault” in his ear.

They seem to understand how important Himiko was to him a bit more, at least. He talks about safe places outside of home and “are you okay ?” mouthed through the windows. He tells them about the cruelty of kids who repeat the things adults say. He tells them about the cruelty of adults.

He tells them how it started small, and spiralled until every annoyance got him a slap.

He keeps some things to himself. The dark closets in Control School, the evenings when he’d wait at the door, ears strained until the house fell quiet so he could sneak to the kitchen for a dinner, the big, heavy tears some afternoons in the park, walking out of Control School having forgotten how to make friends, the knowledge that something was wrong with him early on.

Maybe one day, he’ll tell them. But not now. Not yet. Let him heal from the things he’s said, first.

He’s been brave enough for an entire year, he thinks.

Chapter Text

Denki finds it much easier, talking to Himiko in public. They pay attention to not be too overly familiar -it’s one thing to tell his friends or her guardians, but they’re not going to explain their story to the whole school if they can help it.

They don’t need to talk about it to both be careful. Still, now he can talk to her. He says hi in the morning and she says “bon appétit” in a bad French accent when she passes him by at lunch.

He stays behind one time, and she bites in the crook of his elbow. He runs his fingers through her hair, soothing, talking about his day as he’s always done. She thanks him when she’s done, licks at her lips and gives him a clean compress to put on the two small wounds of his arm.

“I told my friends about my parents,” he says, because she deserves to know.

She gives him a bright smile, and he almost feels sheepish.

“It was so fucking hard. I’ve never told anyone before.”

“That was so brave.”

“You were brave, too. The other day, when you talked about your life.”

She bats the thought away with her hand, and he wants to insist.

“Your friends don’t seem to love me, but at least they haven’t kicked me out or attacked me,” she says before he can.

“It’s not that they hate you, it’s just that they’re struggling to understand; they don’t know you like I do. They weren’t here.”

He passes his hand through his hair. It’s getting long. He’ll cut it again, soon. Maybe shorter this time, more like the small bangs he had as a child.

“I think they struggle to put together the you I talk about and the you they know. But they’ll come around, I promise.”

She looks at him, thinking.

“I trust you,” is what she finally says, and she squeezes his hand three times.

He squeezes back, and before one fo her guardian come look for her, he finally gets to tease her.

“So, Uraraka, uh ? I can see why.”

“So, Hitoshi, uh ? I definitely can’t see why,” she says with a smile.

“Hey ! He’s on our side ! And he’s cool, he listens to me, he’s handsome, he’s strong, he’s funny, he-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it. He’s perfect, you’ve got complementary colours-“

“Oh my gods, we do !”

“-But Ochako is so so cute, and she acts like she isn’t but I know she flirts back, and-“

“Oh, we’re going to be so annoying about our crushes.”

They laugh in the same staccato, and when Aizawa opens the door, they’re still holding their bellies with it.

Denki has missed this so bad, and he goes to lunch with a smile on his face and a feeling like his heart is finally whole again.

He goes to her house with a pep in his step on the day they decided. He wanted to walk with Hitoshi, maybe hold his hand again, but he had an essay he really wanted to finish, and so Denki comes alone.

He rings the doorbell, remembering the anger on her face when the door opened the last time, a younger Himiko with more pain in her heart.

“Oh. It’s you,” is how she greets him.

“Wow, thank you for your warm welcome,” Denki says.

He gives her a quick hug before he takes off his shoes and walks in, saying hi to Yamada. It’s kind of strange to see him at home, with his hair down and in more casual clothing than usual.

He’s barely set his bag down in the living room when there are knocks at the door and Hitoshi walks in. Denki can’t help the smile on his face, and the slightest disappointment when he thinks about the fact that they actually could’ve come together. 

Himiko hands him fuzzy bunny slippers, and he gives her a dark look but puts them on anyway.

“Hey,” he says as he sits down on the couch, and Denki can’t help it-

“Hi. Nice slippers.”

“Oh my god, I’m leaving.”

“Noooooo, ‘Toshi, come on ! You’re cute ! I mean no, they’re cute ! On you ! Uh, they’re cute, and by essence it brings up… your… cuteness ?”

Denki looks away, embarrassed, then back because Hitoshi is blushing too and it’s such a rare sight. He definitely does not look at Yamada, becase he doesn’t want to be a victim of his famous “Rage Eyes”- English is the one subject he’s good at, so he generally doesn’t get those.

Yamada brings them tea and snacks, and when Denki’s face feels less aflame, he sends an apologetic smile Hitoshi’s way.

Himiko is up like a spring when the doorbell rings again, and Denki exchanges an amused look with his friend.

“Hi, Ochako-chan. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Himiko. You’re very cute, as always.”

Their voices carry from the hallway, and Denki think they’re cute. He says Hi to Uraraka when she comes in, and they go into a discussion about how she struggled a bit to find the place, and they really should’ve all come together to make things easier.

Yamada’s presence in the other room means they quickly start to work. They cover the low table with notes and history books and phones opened to Wikipedia pages. The snacks are quickly gone and Denki sips at too-hot tea while he compares his and Hitoshi’s notes. They all had different parts to research as homework, which of course Denki did at the last minute.

“Oh, Himi-chan, do you have the paper with the uh… that guy’s family tree and stuff ? I can’t find it. I swear I had it when I packed my bag…”

“Hmm, yes I think I have it. Here, Denki.”

The silence that follows is what makes them look up from their work. Denki blinks, confused, before he sees Uraraka’s raised eyebrows and Hitoshi’s badly hidden smile.

“Ah.” Shit.

“Right. I wanted to ask, what’s that about ?” Uraraka asks, resting her head in her hands and looking curiously at the two of them.

“Denki and I were friends when we were kids. Stuff happened, we didn’t see each other for a very long time and now… Here we are ! Trying to be friends again !”

“Are we not already friends ?” Denki asks, heart breaking just a bit, “I mean, I never considered you to not be my friend. Sorry, that was presumptuous…”

Himiko has been his sister and best friend since he was six. No distance or time would change that. He thought it would be the same for her. Why wouldn’t it ?

“No, no, that’s okay. That’s good. We’re friends,” she says with a smile.

Good, Denki thinks, and his heart mends again.

Since Hitoshi and he are forbidden from working on the slideshow because apparently Hitoshi’s design choices are too boring and his too colourful, they’re tasked with more research and rephrasing.

“We can do this at the dorm. You two should keep working here,” Denki says with what he hopes is a subtle wink.

He likes to play matchmaker for his friends, although most of them will tell you he isn’t subtle enough to be good at it. Besides, giving Himiko alone time with Uraraka also means he gets to walk home with Hitoshi.

Their hands brush as they walk, and, as usual, Denki does most of the talking and Hitoshi most of the listening. 

When he stays quiet for a bit too long, Hitoshi nudges him.

“What is it ?” he asks gently.

“Nothing. I’m just… happy that you get along with Himiko.”

“Hm. She isn’t a bad person, she just had bad circumstances, I think.”

Denki nods so hard that his head hurt. He takes Hitoshi’s hand in his even thought they’re almost at the dorms, and revels in the way his calloused fingers wrap around his immediately, like it’s automatic.

“Exactly. People tend to think she’s a bit strange, I think, but they also tend to think I am strange, so I don’t listen to them.”

“She’s good for you.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean… What are you saying ?”

“You seem livelier, lately. Happier. Lighter.”

Denki smiles, and lets go of his friend’s hand to change his shoes to slippers.

“I feel lighter. Because I have her here with me again, and because I told you guys about… the hard stuff.”

They walk up to Hitoshi’s room in silence, and it’s only when they’re seating at his desk, sharing the small space of it, that he answers.

“You were brave. I wanted to say it, earlier, but- uh, I missed my chance I guess. So I’m saying it now.”

Hitoshi looks at him and his hand rest on Denki’s arm. He can feel the warmth of his skin through the shirt he’s wearing, and it makes the breath stutter in his chest.

“You were really fucking brave, Denki”, he says.

And gods, how beautiful he is. Denki knows he’s straight, knows he isn’t interested- but here and now, he could kiss him. Oh, how he wants to kiss him.

He wants to lay in bed with him, cuddling, hugging. He wants to hold his hand all the time and sit too close on purpose. He wants Hitoshi’s hands on him, over or under clothes it doesn’t matter, as long as Hitoshi touches him. He wants his lips on his forehead, wants to brush through his hair, wants to tell his friends “here is the boy I love” and he wants them to love him, anyway.

Eijiro is gay and Mina is pan and Katsuki doesn’t say much but they all agree he seems to be somewhere on the aroace spectrum, and so they also know Denki’s bisexual. They tease him about Hitoshi sometimes, just like they teased him about Jiro before, but he’s never said it. He has never told anyone he was bisexual, because there’s always the Fear in him. He knows what his parents think about it. He knows what he risks by being too loud about it.

And yet, he wants to love Hitoshi loud enough for the entire world to know.

Instead, he says “thank you”, and they get back to work.

Chapter Text

The group meets up again a couple of days later, needing a bit more work to finish their history project before the deadline. Both teachers are home this time, but they leave the living room to the teenagers.

Denki isn’t sure what happened between Uraraka and Himiko last time, when Hitoshi and he left earlier, but Uraraka is getting… bold. She is definitely, 100% flirting. She keeps refilling Himiko’s cup with tea, she sets her sweater on her shoulders the second she even hints at being a bit cold, she’s touchy…

Denki thinks it’s cute and he’s happy for his friend, but it is his obligation as a brother to tease her about it. He takes a moment where Hitoshi and Uraraka are discussing something to lean closer to Himiko and whisper.

“Himi, stop being gross.”

She blinks as she turns to him, offended, and then she retaliates.

“Sorry ? Me, gross ? Have you seen yourself ?”

“I am literally not doing anything.”

“You're all over Hitoshi.”

“What- no, I'm not !”

“You aaare~ ” she sing-songs.

“Are you two done ?” Hitoshi interrupts suddenly.

They get back to work like they’ve just been chastised by a teacher, and Denki hits Himiko on the shoulder when she snickers. They wait until their crushes are distracted again, and Himiko scoots closer to Denki.

“Just ask him out.”

“Absolutely not. He’s straight !” he says.

“Really ? Hey, Hitoshi, are you straight ?” she asks suddenly, so loud their teachers in the next room have probably heard her.

“Me ?” he asks, looking absolutely stunned. “No ! Do I look straight ? I knew I should’ve let Eri paint my nails…”

“Cool. I’m bisexual !” Himiko says with a smile.

“Ah, me too…” Uraraka adds.

“Me too ! I’m- yes ! Guys ! And girls ! But mostly- actually no, it’s pretty 50/50…”

He wants to die. He wants to bury himself in the first patch of dirt he finds and never come out again. Oh. My. Gods.

Hitoshi’s mouth open and close without sound a few times, and Denki starts to feel sick with nerves.

“Right. I know that. You’ve told me before.”

“I have ? Good, good. Good… Anyway…”

It’s awkward until it isn’t, and Denki’s heart lights up with soft joy. Hitoshi is not only okay with Denki’s bisexuality, but he’s also gay. Actually, he said not straight, which could mean anything, but does higher the chances of Denki’s feelings being reciprocated.

“Are you gay ?” he ends up blurting out, incapable of keeping it inside any longer.

Hitoshi snorts, and their knees knock under the table.

“Yeah. Asexual, too, or- somewhere on the spectrum at least.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah ?”

“Yeah.”

They share a smile, and Denki starts rethinking all the cuddling and hand-holding and all the ways Hitoshi touches him and no one else.

They finish the presentation, and go on to homework. It’s fun, to work together. It’s very different than when Denki does it with Hanta, Mina, Eijiro and Katsuki- for one, it’s much more quiet and organised.

When he gets distracted, Hitoshi gently brings him back, and he doesn’t know Uraraka very well but she does share some of her tips to remember lessons. He likes hearing Hitoshi’s voice as he softly explains the hardest points in their last math lesson, and Himiko’s notes when they exchange their homework to compare.

He pays attention to her a lot. He feels like he has to, to compensate for all the years they spent apart; that’s why he sees her shoulders and expression drop.

“Are you okay ?” he asks discreetly.

“Yeah. Just thinking about… Before. The League. My friends.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says sincerely.

He rubs at her back and gives her half of his cake to try to cheer her up. For the rest of the time, he tries to keep her mind off of things.

They still haven’t talked much about her time with the League. Maybe it’s not something she wants to talk about, and he won’t ask even if he’s curious. He hasn’t told her about Control School yet, either ; he knows some things just take time. Her grief is still so fresh.

What he knows is they gave her a roof to sleep under and food, as well as an understanding she hasn’t found anywhere else.

Denki feels like he can understand, but he also knows that his quirk comes with much less caution from other people.

Because Denki prides himself on paying attention to his friends’ moods, he notices when it starts to be too much socializing for Hitoshi.

They excuse themselves, but Denki stops before crossing the front door. He waves Hitoshi and Uraraka, urging them to go on without him, and turns to his sister. He holds out a hand, and she places hers in it. There are tiny scars on them, all over, but they still feel soft.

“I’m glad you’re being given a second chance, Himiko. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” she says.

"I believe in you," he says softly.

She stays quiet, but her eyes hold all the things she can’t say. In them, he reads I don't know if I believe in myself and it's the first chance I've ever been given and I'm so afraid I'll ruin it all.

He squeezes her hand twice, I’m here and I believe in you hard enough for us both.

He leaves her with a wave, and runs up to catch up to Hitoshi and Uraraka. He says bye to her when they reach the dorms, and gives Hitoshi a goodnight hug. His friend’s hand rubs his back, and Denki wonders if it’s time they put a name to them.

He doesn’t hold hands with his other friends, and although he’s always known where his touchiness comes from, he’s never questioned the way Hitoshi reciprocates.

It came so naturally. Sure, at first, it was strange when Hitoshi started reaching back—but they developed new habits easily. Denki struggles to remember the way it was before, when Hitoshi still leaned and flinched away from him.

If he thinks about it, he has noticed that Hitoshi hangs out with him the most. He keeps a bit of his breakfast aside in the morning for when Denki inevitably stumbles into the kitchen late, and other people struggle to read his expressions when they all seem clear as day to Denki. He slips his fingers in Denki’s hair after P.E., when it’s all messy and electrified.

It’s a privilege, he thinks, to be allowed so close. To someone like Hitoshi, who has never hidden his distaste of other people.

Denki doesn’t mind how things are, now. He doesn’t feel the need to put a name to it; he’s content just existing with him, like this.

The days pass, and now Denki gets to talk to Himiko in class. Not as much as he does his other friends, not yet, but they say hello in the morning and if Ochako doesn’t beat him to it, he does most school projects with her.

He comes by her house on some weekends, and they talk about everything and nothing.

She tells him he should pay more attention to the things Hitoshi does just for him, but he knows.

He pays attention to every interaction, now, to the way he listens, the way he stands close,  the lemon-flavoured candies he always has on him because Denki loves them.

Each time she brings it up, it makes him want to put a word to it a little more. He doesn’t think it’s platonic, there’s no way. It’s still scary to bring up. He really, really doesn’t want to lose Hitoshi as a friend.

So he changes the subject, and read mangas while Himiko draws, or they watch stupid youtube videos together. Whatever he does with her, he’s happy, because she’s here.

He talks about Control School, a bit. He doesn’t say they locked me up in a closet but he says I can’t sleep in the dark anymore. Himiko understands even with his half-truths, and when she pushes his head on her shoulder it’s like she’s finally there, with him.

He never missed her more than he did back there, sitting in bed, alone with his bleeding heart. So lonely it was a physical pain, something he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop carrying.

Even now, with his sister back, with good friends and parents who act better, he feels these years like a weight. There’s a reason he hates silence, a reason he’s always the last one to go back to his room. There’s a reason he talks so much, touch so much, hold on to people so hard.

He hopes one day he’ll be less scared of being alone, but for now, he hangs out with the people he loves and talks, talks, talks, hoping they’ll answer.

Chapter Text

One Monday morning, Denki notices Himiko’s steps are suspiciously cheerful as she comes in. She smiles at the air and barely listens in class. He can’t say he’s surprised when he follows her eyes and finds Uraraka.

They smile at each other in gooey ways, and Denki’s suspicions grow.

During break, Himiko comes over to his desk to show him that she’s finally got a phone. He saves her contact as ‘vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️’ because it’s funny.

He’s in the middle of eating an early dinner when his phone dings with a text from her. He smiles, ignoring Hanta’s loud ewww as some sauce spills out of his mouth. He flips his friend off as he answers her, giddy with the idea that he’s actually texting her (he couldn’t even dream of it, just a year ago).

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:43pm :

So when are you asking Hitoshi out

He feels his face heat up and gracefully ignores Hanta’s snickers (read: flips him off again).

Me  – 6:43pm :

neverr

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:44pm :

But whyyyyyy he likes you it’s so obvious

Me – 6:45pm :

ok but what if he secretly hates me and thinsk im annoying and never want to see me again

Oops. A bit too honest, but then again, it’s Himiko.

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:46pm :

Who taught you that I’m going to fight them

Me – 6:47pm :

my parents and undiagnosed adhd lol

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:47pm :

True

Anyway I’m dating Ochako !!!!!!!!!!!

We are happy !

Do you not want to be happy ?

Me – 6:49pm :

congraaaaats I knew it I could see it today

and of course I do. its just scary

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:50pm :

Denki

My little brother

Do you trust me ?

Me – 6:50pm :

with everything

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:51pm :

Tell Hitoshi you like him.

Sometimes happiness can only be reached when we do scary things.

Me  – 6:50pm :

like when you ran away ?

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:57pm :

Yeah.

Me – 6:58pm :

are you happy now ?

He holds his breath after he clicks send, suddenly terrified of her answer. It comes quick enough, though.

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 6:58pm :

I am !

Me – 6:59pm :

really ?

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 7pm :

Sometimes the grief is like a tsunami and I feel like drowning

But I have you and Ochako and Hitoshi

And Hizashi and Shouta

And a warm bed and a clean shower and all the food I want

And I’m safe

And loved, I think.

Me – 7:02pm :

you are loved, Himiko Toga. like you deserve

I never stopped loving you

you’re my favourite big sister

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 7:03pm :

I’m your only big sister

Me – 7:03pm :

Yeah :)

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 7:04pm :

<3

Denki puts down his phone, and plays footsies with Hanta under the table, and cradles his phone to his chest for just a few minutes. He hasn’t had Himiko this close to him in… ever, actually. She was a house away but never a text away, and the knowledge that he’ll be able to check on her at all times is so relieving he feels almost dizzy with it.

When he’s back in his room, the moon long up and still holding onto the last laugh he shared with his friends when he finally beat Eijiro at a game, he rereads their conversation.

He has been thinking about talking to Hitoshi. He would be surprised if his feelings weren’t reciprocated, at this point, but there is always a little voice in the back of his head telling him he’s only seeing what he wants to see.

If Himiko can see it too, though…

It takes him hours and hours to finally do it. He goes to his text app and starts writing to Hitoshi, deletes it, writes again- and at some point he realises he’s only one finger slip from sending something he isn’t sure about, so he switches to his notes app.

It’s late, way too late, when he’s finally satisfied with what he has. He rereads his words one last time, takes time to make sure his grammar is good, for once. He half hopes Hitoshi is asleep, but he can see the green dot next to his profile.

It’s hard, to copy and past the text, harder to hit send. It’s scary. But it’s not as scary as loosing Himiko, or seeing his friends and mentors get hurt, die in the war.

Me – 3:31am :

Hey ! This is kinda terrifying but Himiko keeps telling me to do it and I think I want to, deep down. So this is me doing it.

I spent a majority of my life hating my quirk and myself for not being able to control it. I’ve spent a majority of my life craving people’s touch, being too clingy and annoying to those who *actually* let me touch them.

I know you weren’t used to it and didn’t like it at first, but the way you touch me back kinda makes me want to cry every time. I know you’re not a tactile person, but you still let me hold your hand and hug you and when our knees touch you don’t move your leg away.

I like visiting Himiko and seeing you there. I like when you wear comfortable clothes and slouch down in my bed. I like when you give me candies like I'm a dog you’re trying to pavlov (it’s working). I like when you listen to my music and encourage me and when you go over homework with me until the letters stop swimming around.

I like how handsome you are, and I may seem super cool and unbothered but I actually get so flustered when you show off your strength or laugh at my jokes.

I like how you get along with her, because she’s so important to me. Himiko is one of the biggest parts of me, and I couldn’t have you if you didn’t like her. You were so qui in your acceptance of her, and its one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

I’m pretty sure it’s obvious if you’ve read all that, but I like you, Hitoshi.

I think maybe you do too, but there is a voice inside of me that never stops saying I don’t deserve love because I'll always hurt the people around me. And knowing it comes from my parents doesn’t make it any easier to ignore it, so by now I've probably chucked my phone across the room and I'm hiding under my blankets and I might be crying but that’s whatever

If you don’t like me back, it’s ok. You’re an amazing friend, an incredible hero. I admire you as a person because you’re so strong, and you’re doing something people told you you could never do. Its what I like the most about you, the way you don’t give up. Makes me want to be braver, too.

If you don’t like me we can still be friends, if you want to. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself and be strictly and firmly platonic o7.

His phone hits the wall the second he hits send, and Denki buries himself under the covers. He’s not going to cry, not yet, not yet.

The minutes seem agonisingly long. He emerges from his blanket slowly, the low light from his lamp showing the cracked, dark screen of his phone a couple of meters away.

He shrieks when it lights up suddenly, before slapping a hand on his mouth when he remembers how late (or early ?) it is.

He slips out of bed gracelessly, letting his body fall to the floor loudly. He slowly crawls over to his phone, feeling sick with anxiety.

He picks up the phone slowly, eyes shut tight before he opens one carefully.

Toshi 🐱 – 3:52am:

I certainly don’t hold hands or cuddle with anyone, Denki.

I’m not good with words the way you are, but you’re very important to me too.

You make things easier.

And for the record, you’re not cool and unbothered, and I do it on purpose because you’re cute when you’re flustered.

Me – 3:56am:

firts of all rude, don’t do this to my poor heart

Second of all please for the love of everything tell me clearly

Toshi 🐱 – 3:57am :

I like you too.

Me – 3:57am :

Ifjjezoiajdfhughfjnqsufkhgjddjqesfd

Please be my boyfriend please please please

Toshi 🐱 – 3:58am :

I would love to be your boyfriend.

Me – 3:58am:

FDJHUZUPFIOHSUGIQEROZQHFEURQZHOIDSF

IF YOU HEAR SCREALING ITS JUST ME DW

Toshi 🐱💜– 3:59am :

<3

Me – 3:59am:

<3333333333333333333333333333

It takes a few minutes for his heart to calm down and to suppress the giggles that keep coming. Denki’s face hurt from smiling so hard, and he rolls around on the floor in excitement.

He has a boyfriend. A boyfriend !! And it’s Hitoshi !!

Oh, he can’t wait to tell his friends.

He sends a thank-you text to Himiko, and gets himself back into bed. He knows he won’t sleep a wink, but at least he’s comfortable under his blankets rather than on the hard floor.

In the morning, Denki’s the first one up. He finds Hitoshi in the kitchen, where only a few of their classmates are present.

He feels suddenly shy, but his boyfriend’s smile puts him at ease.

“Hi,” he says as he sits down next to him.

“Hey,” Hitoshi answers, and then, so low Denki almost misses it, “boyfriend.”

The smile is back on his face, and he takes Hitoshi’s hand all the way through breakfast. Even if it’s hard to eat with his left hand, Hitoshi doesn’t let go at all.

Mina’s eyes glint evilly when she sees them, because of course she would notice immediately that something’s changed between them.

Denki doesn’t think he’ll share his relationship with too many people; after all, it’s dangerous for multiple reasons. But with his best friends, he wants to be honest.

He tells her after checking that it’s ok with Hitoshi, and she’s quick to spread the news to their other friends. Hanta gives them pats in the back and a snicker, Eijirō congratulates them and Katsuki’s grumbly “finally” sounds just a bit too soft.

When Denki sees Himiko in class, he gives her a thumbs up with the hand that isn’t holding onto Hitoshi’s. They haven’t let go since this morning, except to change in their respective rooms, and it’s hard to let go when the bell rings.

That day, they’re handed papers where they need to write what they’ll want to specialize in as Pro-Heroes. Denki has been thinking about it since the first slap from his father, so it’s easy for him. He sees Hanta and Mina hesitate, though.

“Time goes by fast,” says their teacher, “A lot of things happened in your first year. You should take these experiences to help you decide on what you want to do. Rescue, undercover, first responder, or more specialized fields, you seriously need to start thinking about it. Next year, you’ll have the opportunity for internships again. By choosing now, you’ll be able to look for Pros in the field you want. Think about it, and give the papers back to your homeroom teacher by the end of next week.”

Denki writes down the answer immediately, knowing he’ll forget if he doesn’t do it now. He shoves the paper in his bag, and knows that’ll be the subject of most discussions for the week.

He wonders what Hitoshi will do. Probably underground hero work, he thinks. He’s too much like Aizawa for anything else. His hero costume is already dark, something that allows him to hide in the shadows easily. Oh, Denki can’t wait to see what kind of Heroes his friends will become.

Immediately after class, he takes Hitoshi’s hand again for their weekly homework session. They focus on English and history this time, which are coincidentally Denki’s best and worst subjects.

When everyone goes back to their own bedroom, brain smoking from too much thinking, Denki shyly asks Hitoshi if he wants to keep hanging out.

There’s no hesitation when he says yes, and they sit on his bed to watch videos. It’s different, now that they’re boyfriends, but it’s also the same. Hitoshi keeps the lights on for Denki, and Denki holds him tight in the way he likes.

He’s sad to go when curfew comes, but he knows he’ll get yelled at if he’s found hanging out in someone else’s room late. Especially considering their homeroom teacher would know, and that’s Hitoshi’s dad. Nope, he’s not risking his life this time.

He’s in pyjamas and already in bed when he notices a text he missed from Himiko.

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️– 7:07pm :

So, what do you want to do as a Pro-Hero ?

Me– 9:46pm :

oops sorry didn’t see your text I was hanging out with my BOYFRIED

so with my quirk I think I can do specialized stuff with electronics etc

that way I would have free time also to work for associations and stuff

for abused kids

and then normal hero work when needed I think

thast the plan 

and u ? any idea ?

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️ – 9:53pm :

Do you know about Ochako’s project ?

I’ll try to find whatever minimum wage job an ex villain can get, and if I can I want to help Ocha with her project. Go to schools to talk to future heroes, or help with kids that have villainous quirk, etc etc

Me  – 9:54pm :

I don’t know about Ochako’s project but that seems like a good idea

think I can help her with it/be part of it ?

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️ – 9:54pm :

You should ask her, but I think she’ll say yes ! It’s mostly brainstorming for now of course, but I’m sure she’ll do great things. I love her soooooo much

Me  – 9:55pm :

yeah yeah I know shes the greatest etc etc

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️ – 9:55pm :

Absolutely she is. DO NOT talk bad about the love of my life I’ll fight you

Me – 9:56pm :

oh yeah ? I’d like to see you try

be careful I know how to use nunchakus

vamp queen ❤️🧛🏻‍♀️ – 9:57pm :

??????

Since when ???

Have you ever hit yourself in the face

Me – 9:58pm :

omg I haven’t told you ?

and of course I have have you seen me

They talk late into the night, and everything feels easier because Denki isn’t alone anymore