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Denki lay on his stomach on his bed, his feet kicked up in the air, grinning into his phone. “And guess what?”
“What?” Aunt Raiko said, meeting his grin through their video call. “No, wait, don’t tell me...you got another hero agency offer?”
“I wish.” He rolled onto his back, holding his phone up above my head. “We had a surprise math quiz earlier this week, and I passed.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Aunt Raiko turned away from the screen when someone called her name, giving Denki a better view of her spiky blonde hair and the half-dozen earrings studded around the curve of her ear. She was his father’s sister, though they were nothing like each other. Keisuke had a solid, stodgy sales job that kept him in Japan, while Raiko was an environmental scientist based in Canada. Keisuke was a rigid traditionalist in his beliefs, while Raiko was free-spirited and open.
“Sorry, kiddo, I don’t have much time. How’s your family? Things still good with your teacher?”
Denki nodded. His hand slipped, and he dropped the phone on his face. His aunt burst into laughter as he sat up, rubbing his nose, and held the phone out at a more comfortable angle. “Owww.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. You should have seen it from my angle, though. Your face just suddenly rushed the camera.”
He smiled ruefully. “Anyway, Dad...Aizawa’s great.”
“You call him Dad?”
“Yeah...sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry,” Aunt Raiko said, shaking her head. “I’ve been worried about you, being on the other side of the world and all. I’m glad you have someone who sees you for who you are.”
Denki scooted back on his bed, pulling his knees up to rest his arms on them. “The whole class is like that, Aunt Raiko. Look at this...after I came out, they all started wearing these.” He reached over to the wall, where he’d stuck the pin Yaoyorozu had made everyone. It was UA’s logo, but in the blue, pink, and white stripes of the trans flag. “Even class B’s wearing ‘em, but I don’t know if it’s for me.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Well, at least that’s better than your first. God, your dad was so mad that day, I didn’t know what to do.”
“Yeah.” Denki swallowed, shifting his position a little. “I don’t really remember it. I just kind of remember always being like this? Like, I don’t know when it started. I don’t remember...telling them.”
Aunt Raiko glanced down, her brow furrowed as she thought. “You were in first grade,” she finally said. “I remember because I was still living in Japan, working on my first doctorate. I met them at the hospital and he was all in a rage, saying someone at school had put ideas in your head. I wasn’t that surprised—you used to pretend to be a boy, even when you were that little. But he was...he was angry, Denki.”
“Sounds about right,” he muttered. “Wait, you met them at the hospital?”
“That was the day you had your first seizure, remember?”
His mouth went dry and he shook his head. “I don’t, um...I never remember anything when those happen. But I thought I got my first seizure when my Quirk showed up?”
“Ah, yeah, that’s not quite right, I’m surprised you don’t remember that, either. You always had your Quirk, but we didn’t know how strong it was until that day. You were just my little lightning bug with a happy little buzz that made your hair stand on-end. Your mother used to try to tame it down, but then you’d start laughing and spark right up and all her work was wasted. It was so cute.”
He ducked his head, his cheeks burning a little. “But that day?”
Aunt Raiko sighed. “Your father said you’d had a serious argument, though that didn’t sound like you. You were always a sweet kid, but I think you were learning to stand up for yourself. Anyway, he said you got mad and your Quirk just exploded. That was the first time you projected electricity out of your body, the first time they saw how dangerous your Quirk could be. You were too small to handle it, and it triggered a seizure.”
A pit was opening in Denki’s stomach. He had a flash of a memory now...of his aunt smiling down at him, calling him a lightning bug. The warm buzz of electricity in his body. His father grabbing his arm to scold him, cutting off that buzz, making him feel weak and far too small.
“Denki?”
“I think I need to go,” he whispered. “Love you, but...I need to go.”
“Okay, kiddo. Call me back if you need anything?”
“I will, thanks. Bye.” He hung up the call without any further thought, curling forward to clutch at his hair with both hands. Did that mean...was that why...was it all connected?
He needed his dad.
Somehow Denki stumbled out of his room and down the stairs to the common area. A few of his classmates called a greeting to him, but he ignored them, focusing on the student sitting close to the door. “Iida, I n-need to sign out,” he stammered.
Iida was already on his feet, one hand under Denki’s elbow to hold him steady. “What’s wrong, Kaminari?”
“I need Dad...I mean, Aizawa. Dadzawa.”
Somebody giggled, but they were quickly hushed. Iida turned to face the rest of the room. “Asui, can you take over for me while I walk Kaminari to the teachers’ dorms?”
“Sure, ribbit. Hope you feel better, Kaminari.”
“Let’s go.” Iida didn’t let go, supporting and guiding Kaminari out the door and onto the familiar path. He kept talking, but Denki didn’t understand what he was saying over the roaring noise in his head. He wasn’t even sure how long they were walking before they stopped, and glanced up to see a figure watching them.
“I’ll take it from here,” Aizawa said.
“Yes, Sir,” Iida gently passed Denki over to their teacher, waiting to make sure he was staying on his feet. “Would you like me to stay close to escort him back?”
“No, but sign him out for the night when you get back. I’ll take him home for the night.”
Iida said something else, but Denki had already buried himself in his father’s arms. He pressed his face against Aizawa’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scents of coffee and chalk dust. Denki barely noticed when Iida left, and didn’t move until Aizawa guided him off the path to a nearby bench and settled them down on it.
“Wanna tell me what’s up, kid?” Aizawa asked, rubbing Denki’s back as he clung to him.
“Something happened,” he replied shakily.
“Yeah? Something bad?”
Denki shrugged. “I think I remembered something?”
“What did you remember?”
“My dad used to...before my Quirk exploded...he stopped my Quirk to punish me.”
Aizawa went still. “You remember that?”
“I think so?” He haltingly explained the conversation with his aunt and her side of the story—he’d tried to come out to his parents in first grade, then the argument with his father had led to his Quirk showing its true strength, which had triggered his first seizures.
“And I started thinking,” Denki continued. “What if he tried to stop it? If he used to use his Quirk to stop mine, what if he tried to stop it that day? You already said that could trigger a seizure, so maybe he...did he do this to me?”
“Denki, are you sure?” Aizawa pushed him back to arm’s length, peering into his eyes. “You remember that?”
“I just felt kinda fuzzy and tingly. It made me laugh. But he didn’t like that, when I was in trouble. He’d grab my arm and make it all stop, and I’d feel so cold and small while he yelled at me….”
Aizawa didn’t answer, his lips pressed in a thin line.
“Is that...is that bad?” Denki asked.
His father took in a deep breath. “It’s abuse, Denki. Your father used his Quirk to discipline you. That’s considered abuse in our society.”
Abuse. They said that word a lot. He’d always thought it didn’t count for him because his dad never really left bruises and he never went hungry. Hell, his childhood had been a picnic compared to some of his classmates’.
“Did that cause them? The seizures, I mean?” Denki asked.
“Do you remember what Dr. Haruno said on your last appointment?”
He shook his head. “A lot of what she says goes over my head. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Aizawa shifted around so they were sitting side-by-side, with his arm around Denki’s shoulders. “She believes that, if your seizures weren’t caused by a drop in electricity, they could have been caused by the sudden spike after a drop. It’s possible that your father thought he was stopping your Quirk when he was really just damming it up, and as soon as he released or lost control of his Quirk all of that pent-up electricity overloaded your nervous system.”
“So he did it.”
Aizawa tugged him closer. “Could be. It might be hard to prove, but I wouldn’t put it past the man.”
Denki rested his head against Aizawa’s shoulder as miserable tears slid down his cheeks. Why had all of this happened to him? Why did he have to be born in the wrong body? “So in the basement,” he began, his brain switching to another topic.
“You were holding your Quirk back to protect Iida,” Aizawa said. “It wasn’t holding the electricity in that caused the damage; it was the sudden flood when you released it. Even though your body is made to handle your Quirk, it still has limitations. That was just too much at once.
“There is some good news,” he added. “You outgrew it once, kid. Dr. Haruno thinks there’s a good chance you’ll outgrow it again.”
He tried to nod, but he felt too exhausted. His mind was reeling and his heart was heavy, and he suddenly just wanted to sleep until the world was a better place. “Can I really come home tonight?”
“Of course, Denki.” Aizawa finally stood, taking Denki’s hand to pull him to his feet. “You can always come home whenever you need to, no matter how old you get. Got it?”
Denki lunged forward to wrap his arms around Aizawa. His adoptive dad wasn’t really a hug guy, but he never turned any of them down when they needed it. “Thanks, Dad,” he managed to whisper, his voice choked with tears.
Aizawa patted his back. “Any time, kid. Whenever you need me, you just call. Okay?”
“Okay.” Denki rubbed his face as he pulled away from the hug. He tried to smile at his dad, though it didn’t quite feel right on his face. Not yet, anyway. “Let’s go home.”