Chapter Text
Kaminari wobbled over the threshold, his heartbeat thrumming so loud that he couldn’t hear the muted hellos thrown in his direction. Only Aizawa’s grip kept him planted on the ground, otherwise he might’ve tumbled down. A small thought went off like a shotgun in his head—Aizawa wasn’t just there for support, he was there to stop him from bolting. And bolting became a very tangible threat when he saw Tsukauchi.
He’d expected the conference room to be filled with the UA staff, all circling him with judgment and contempt and threat, so he had to curb his expectations in rapidfire succession when it was just Tsukauchi and Nezu.
“I can’t do this,” he hissed to Aizawa.
“Kaminari—no, hold on, it’s okay,” said Aizawa. “I’m right here with you, remember? We are going to face this together. I promise you that everything will be alright.”
Black spots popped in his vision before he slammed back into his body, the air flexing around him and squeezing his ribcage. Kaminari could smell his own fear in the air. He forced himself to take a breath and the black spots shrank away.
“Don’t leave my side,” Kaminari pled in a whisper. He felt like a child for asking. Aizawa fell in tune with him anyway.
He and Aizawa took seats in adjoining chairs in the centre of the room. Aizawa let go of his shoulder, but his presence was always there.
“How are you feeling, Mr Kaminari?” Nezu asked.
Nezu wasn’t one for soft empathy. Kaminari had pegged the principal the moment he’d met him. Nezu was all hard edges, the sharp corner of a chipped stone, and only he could ask how someone was doing with a smile and sound so distant.
“I feel like crap,” Kaminari admitted.
Nezu held his stare. He pointed to a kettle sitting on the desk. “Tea?”
“I think my stomach would hate me if I put something in it.”
“As you wish,” said Nezu. “How much have Mr Kirishima and Mr Sero kept you informed about the current situation?”
“They haven’t said much.”
“Well, then I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Midoriya, Bakugou, and Hagakure are expected to recover, although Miss Hagakure is looking at an extended period of rehabilitation.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Kaminari asked.
“She has partial paralysis on the left side of her body. Recovery Girl believes she will regain function in time.”
“Will she still be able to become a Hero?”
“I don’t see why not, albeit with a tainted public image. Even though she’s exonerated as the UA traitor, the stigma attached to this incident won’t disappear. Humans remember these kinds of things.”
“Is that the bad news?”
“No,” said Tsukauchi. “The bad news is that the night that you were all recovered from the bunker, Shigaraki and other villains associated with him killed twenty-four people, mostly police officers investigating Hokama’s office. That cab driver you mentioned also seems to have disappeared. Honestly, considering what Shigaraki is capable of, I think we should count ourselves lucky that the body count isn’t higher.”
Kaminari let out the energy in his body by exhaling through his nose. He clamped his hands between his knees and tried to stay still.
“Toga was captured, so it wasn’t a complete loss,” said Tsukauchi. “Society will be much safer with her off the streets.”
“All those cops dying was probably my fault too, huh?” Kaminari asked.
“Blame isn’t relevant,” said Tsukauchi. “Everyone wanted to rescue the missing UA students, and we’ve accounted for all of them. When you’re a cop in this society, you go in understanding the risks involved.”
“Bet they didn’t expect Tomura to swoop in and kill them.”
“Shigaraki is a villain. It’s just what he does.” Tsukauchi glanced at Nezu, who nodded, then back at Kaminari. “I’ve been doing some investigating, trying to figure out who you are.”
“Found anything good?” Kaminari forced a smile that no one returned. “Hey, am I, like, the long-lost son of a billionaire or something? That’d be cool.”
“I’m afraid not. It’s a bit like you just appeared out of nowhere. I won’t give up on your case, though. I’m sure you’d like to know what your real name is.”
Kaminari tensed up. “I’d rather I didn’t know, actually.”
“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked.
“Look, I know it’s complicated and Shigaraki gave me the name, but I’m just Kaminari now. I can’t identify with whatever my name was before, it just wouldn’t feel right. You don’t just call yourself Denki Kaminari for however long it’s been and then change your name.”
“That’s up to you,” said Tsukauchi. “It’s still important that we determine where you came from.”
Kaminari gave a half-hearted, don’t-care shrug. He mused that a part of him hoped that Tsukauchi didn’t find out who he was.
Tsukauchi continued, “Kaminari, I’ve been authorized to offer you a deal.”
Tsukauchi was a fisherman’s net drawing him in. Despite his breathless struggles, he couldn’t untangle himself, couldn’t worm his way away from anything that so much as resembled hope.
“You’ve committed several crimes,” said Tsukauchi. “However, there are a few aggravating circumstances that complicate your case. For one, you are still a minor, and they kidnapped you at a young age. At the very least, we believe they coerced you into doing a lot of the crimes you committed. The primary witness have also refused to testify against you.”
“Witnesses?” Kaminari said disbelievingly.
“Midoriya, Kirishima, Bakugou, and Hagakure have all sworn up and down that you were kidnapped alongside them and refuse to discuss anything else about what happened in that bunker. They won’t back up your story at all.”
Kaminari stared at the wall to the left of Nezu’s head, who was just smiling serenely like always, disguising the fact that he was studying him for a reaction by sipping tea.
“Bakugou,” Kaminari repeated. “Even Bakugou?”
“Even Bakugou,” Tsukauchi nodded.
“Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“Depends on how you view it, to be honest. Legally, it makes it harder to pin a lot of the major crimes you claim you committed on you.”
“Midoriya’s missing his damn eye. Bakugou and Hagakure were tortured. Isn’t that proof?”
“Bakugou says that Shigaraki inflicted his injuries.”
“And Midoriya’s eye?”
“He says he fell on a fork.”
“What?” Kaminari snorted through his nose. His hands shot up to cover his mouth. “Why would they say all that?”
“They’re trying to protect you,” said Tsukauchi. “However, there’s still a lot of evidence that points to you, so I’m afraid it’s just delaying the inevitable.”
“So I’m going to jail,” said Kaminari.
“That’s where the deal comes in.” Tsukauchi fingered through a file on the desk. Kaminari could only imagine what it said. “It’s been difficult for us to get information on the internal workings of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Members, activities, crimes, et cetera. They’re a lot more organized than the League of Villains was.”
“But you already have spies in there. I just…I mean, it seems kind of obvious, right? Shigaraki has a lot of agents, so it makes sense that the Heroes would have someone on the inside.”
Tsukauchi squinted at him. “That’s above my pay grade. Regardless, even if there is, we can use as many witnesses and accounts as we can get.”
Tsukauchi pulled up a chair and sat close to Kaminari, looking him in the eye.
“We’re willing to put you on probation and house arrest, in exchange for information about the Paranormal Liberation Front,” said Tsukauchi.
“What if I don’t know anything useful?”
“I think you know more ‘useful’ things than you’re aware of. Your existence is proof that Shigaraki will stoop to force children to be his spies. Hokama was an agent that no one knew about and we’re eager to get more information about his activities.”
“Hokama’s dead. What’s the point?”
“There could be other crimes and victims out there that he could have connections to. Disappearances, unsolved murders, other people who don’t even know that Hokama turned them into sleeper agents. Not to mention that your closeness to Shigaraki is a bit exceptional. Shigaraki may have a lot of allies, but I don’t think there’s anyone else quite like you.”
Kaminari stared at his hands. Talking with Tsukauchi was a bit like a game of fast-paced chess. “Probation and house arrest.”
“Yes.”
“For kidnapping and all the other stuff?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a house.”
“About that,” said Aizawa. “I’ll be acting as your legal guardian.”
“You’re adopting me?” Kaminari furrowed his brow.
“I’m keeping you out of trouble, the same as I’ve always done. Your legal address will be the same as mine.”
“The same as yours.” Things were happening fast. He felt like he was on a quiz show and everyone was hitting him with rapid-fire questions he didn’t know the answer to, so he helplessly echoed the questions back. Things were quiet and he realized his audience was waiting for him to answer, to get a question wrong.
“That brings us to another matter,” said Nezu. “Mr Kaminari, many of your crimes were committed while you were a student here at UA. I will be honest: there was quite a bit of talk amongst the faculty about whether to expel you—”
Nezu never finished his sentence because the conference room door burst open.
Kaminari bolted up with a shriek, adrenaline surging hard until he saw it was just Kirishima. Kirishima was on a mission. He looked straight past Kaminari, past Aizawa, past Tsukauchi, and marched up to Nezu, slamming a piece of paper down on the desk.
“You can’t expel Kaminari!” he shouted.
“Kirishima, this is a private meeting,” said Aizawa.
“I don’t care!” Kirishima yelled. “I gotta say my piece.”
Kaminari heard footsteps behind them and several familiar faces appeared in the doorway, all sweaty and flushed like they were fresh from a marathon sprint. They were members of his class: Sero, sharp in focus, eyes clear and concentrated; Kouda, hunched shoulders and wrung hands; Uraraka, tightly clenched like she was preparing to leap into battle; Ojiro, all nerves; and Todoroki, all business.
They were a small army about to charge into a losing battle, but none of them retreated. After a moment’s pause, they entered as a group, supporting each other. He felt for sure that the support didn’t extend to him until they clustered around him, and Kaminari did an awkward shuffle-dance to duck out of arm’s reach. Without preamble, Kouda put an arm around his shoulder and just held it there. The others drew tight ranks around him, like he was something important. The air solidified around him, a barricade made of warm bodies and a sense of firm union, dense like corals clustered together on a reef.
“You’re all interrupting a private meeting,” Aizawa said, though it didn’t sound like he was trying very hard to stop the intrusion.
“We don’t care,” said Uraraka. “We got something to say.”
“I’ll allow it,” said Nezu. “Do continue.”
Kirishima caught his breath, and with nods from the others, went on. “We got a list; it’s got our names on it. If you expel Kaminari, we quit.”
“You’ll drop out of UA,” said Nezu.
“Yeah, and we mean it, too. Kaminari wants to be a hero. He could be a great Hero, if given the chance.”
“How do you know he wants to be a Hero? Did you ask?”
Kirishima looked over his shoulder at Kaminari.
Kaminari never thought of the future. The future was too distant to be reached, something he’d never get to see, something Tomura would drag away from him as he reached out to it. Even if he had graduated, there was always the understanding that everything, always, every day, would be for Tomura.
Now he was by himself and prison was apparently not going to happen and he didn’t know what came next.
The best time of his life, the time when he’d been the most free, had been with his classmates, working towards a collective goal to becoming Heroes. The others had bled with passion, with a desire to change the world, and as much as Kaminari hated Heroes for never rescuing him, there was nothing else in his path. He could be with his classmates with the Hero path. The path that put him parallel to his friends was the one he wanted.
Kaminari had betrayed UA. He would never be a rich and famous idol like All Might. He’d always be hated and known as the UA traitor. He’d go through life with a target on his back. If he didn’t become a Hero, maybe he could disappear somewhere in the world and erk out a quiet existence. Becoming a Hero was the greatest risk he could take. The familiar panicked haze blowtorched his bones and he had a knee-jerk moment of panic like he’d gotten his fingers caught in a door.
“Yeah,” he heard himself saying. “I want to be a Hero. I want to stay here at UA.”
Nezu never broke and he continued to not disappoint. He was creepy that way. He watched his students crowd underneath him, but Kaminari thought he saw a flicker of satisfied pride present in his glimmering eyes.
“If Heroes can turn their back on someone like Kaminari, then we don’t want to be Heroes,” said Kirishima.
“I’ll still be a Hero,” Todoroki announced. “I’ll just transfer to one of UA’s competing schools and rob UA of the prestige of training the future Number One.”
“You really need to sort out your priorities, Todoroki,” Uraraka hissed at him.
“I’m being honest,” Todoroki hissed back.
“Are you absolutely sure this is the route you want to take?” Nezu asked.
“This feels more important than becoming Heroes,” said Ojiro.
“We don’t abandon friends,” Sero agreed.
Nezu sipped his tea. Finally, he put down his cup. “Well, you’ll all be relieved to hear that we’ve decided not to expel Kaminari, as I was about to tell him before you all rushed in.”
Kaminari was suddenly very glad for Kouda’s arm around his shoulder. It kept him from falling right over and face planting into the ground.
“However, since you have violated several school policies, you will be suspended for a month,” said Nezu. His voice contained an edge of glee; it really sounded like he was enjoying the whole situation far more than a principal should. “I’m sure Mr Aizawa will work hard to keep up with your training in that period, though. We can’t afford to get sloppy now, can we?”
“You’re also forbidden from using social media or having your own phone for the foreseeable future,” said Tsukauchi.
“So I don’t talk to strangers online?” Kaminari asked.
“The Heroes also want to control how much information is released to the media. It’s in your interests, as well as everyone else’s.”
Kaminari stood there for a moment, stunned.
“You are choosing a very difficult path for yourself, however,” said Nezu. “It’s public knowledge that you’re the traitor and other students may not receive you warmly.”
Then, he let out a half-assed laugh, fingers knotting through his hair. “Is this real life? Am I dreaming?”
No one could answer him. Maybe they all existed in the same dream, because he could scarcely believe that he was getting off of kidnapping with a slap on the wrist.
“I think we’re done for now,” said Aizawa. “Why don’t you take Kaminari back to the dorms?”
It was the cue they’d all been waiting for, the one Kaminari didn’t know he’d wanted until his classmates herded him to the doorway, like he was stuck in a flock of sheep. Protected by them, he couldn’t lock eyes with Tsukauchi to get a final read on his way out and he felt the same way he’d felt when they’d escaped the bunker, like he was walking out with no survival plan in place.
No one spoke until the conference hall was well behind them and they were out of the main building, on the path to Heights Alliance. Then, all at once they exhaled a collective breath.
“I thought I was gonna pass out for a minute there,” said Uraraka. “I thought we were in real trouble for sure.”
“Thanks for coming, guys,” said Kirishima. “You really didn’t have to.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do,” said Ojiro. “I’m sorry no one else would sign your petition, Kirishima.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think Midoriya and Hagakure would’ve signed it if they were here, and I would’ve strong-armed Bakugou into doing it, too.”
They stopped outside Heights Alliance and Kaminari started pacing. The others watched with careful eyes, and he realized that they were waiting for him to say something, that there was still distance between them.
Kaminari spent a minute or two making a few false starts on speaking. He ran his fingers through his hair. They came back static-y.
“Why did you guys do that?” Kaminari asked. “Did everyone forget about all the stuff I lied about?”
“So you’re admitting that you lied,” said Todoroki.
“Holy shit, of course I was lying!”
“Kaminari, look,” Ojiro stepped in with a much gentler approach. “A lot of things have happened. I’m still not sure what’s going on and I can’t speak for everyone here, but here’s how I see it. Midoriya, Kirishima, Kouda, and Hagakure all said that you needed a second chance and I trust their judgment.”
“That’s it? It’s that simple?”
“Well, it’s not simple,” said Uraraka. “Hagakure said that you saved their lives.”
It felt like a contradiction, like saving their lives was something another person had done. He was the person who had put them in danger; he was the person who pulled them from flames while he was also on fire. They were two different people.
“We wouldn’t have gotten out of there without you,” Kirishima insisted.
“You wouldn’t have been there to begin with if it hadn’t been for me,” Kaminari pointed out.
“Yeah, you kinda messed up, but you also fixed it.”
“I believe in giving everyone another chance,” said Uraraka. “I feel like we’ve only seen your worst for a long time, so I want to see what you’re like when you’re at your best.”
The ground transfixed Kaminari for a while, then he looked at Todoroki.
“What about you?” he asked.
Todoroki crossed his arms and shrugged. “Let’s just say that my life has also been complicated.”
“Takes one to know one,” Kaminari muttered. Then, “So Kirishima and the others just convinced you all that I was worth the trouble?”
“Well, I was a little impressed by the bounty, so I suppose that influenced my decision. Villains wouldn’t put a bounty on just anyone.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Todoroki,” Sero sighed. “I asked you not to bring that up.”
“…Sorry, I forgot,” said Todoroki.
“What bounty?” Kaminari asked.
“Well, after you came back, the Paranormal Liberation Front put a bounty on you and distributed it all across social media,” Todoroki explained. “7000 yen for your capture or death.”
“Wow, only 7000? I feel a little insulted, to be honest.”
“I thought Shigaraki let you go,” said Kirishima.
“He did, he just…” Kaminari rubbed his forehead. “Tomura’s just playing a game with me, I think. He knows having a bounty on my head will stress me out more than if he just lets me slide under the radar.”
“Wait, you think he put out a bounty…just to mess with you?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s totally something he’d do,” Kaminari laughed.
Everyone aside from Kirishima was looking at him in a way he couldn’t quite place. In a way that was odd and concerned and very-much-weirded-out by Kaminari addressing Tomura by his first name and talking about him like he was an old friend.
He rubbed his face to avoid eye contact. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t.”
Overwhelmed, Kaminari raced for the dorms. Confused emotions convulsed through him, and he couldn’t place whether it was fear or anger. Maybe both. He was so consumed that when he passed through the common area and saw it crowded with people, he didn’t feel the dread he knew he should’ve felt.
It was the first time he’d come face-to-face with the entire class since the night he’d broken into Uraraka’s room. Most of them hadn’t signed Kirishima’s don’t-expel-Kaminari petition, hadn’t stood up for him, and it surprised him he wanted to be angry about it.
Scanning the room, his eyes locked with Ashido. Hers skirted away and she turned from him.
Footsteps caught up to him, and Kirishima and the others emerged at his shoulder. The silence prickled on the back of his neck.
“So, guess what?” Kirishima said with forced cheer. “Kaminari’s not getting expelled! That’s good news, right?”
Iida’s voice was pointed. “He should’ve been.”
“Iida, c’mon—”
“No, you come on!” Iida snapped. He glared at Kaminari. “You broke more school policies than I can even count, and that’s not even close to the worst thing you did. And now the school’s just letting you walk back in here like nothing happened?”
“Nobody’s explained anything to us,” said Yaoyorozu. “You need to understand, Kirishima. We don’t know what’s going on. We don’t know what happened to you guys, we don’t know—” She took a reflexive breath, like she was drowning in cold water. “Forgive us if we’re all less than thrilled about having a known traitor around us, someone who’s been lying to all of us for more than a year!”
“You don’t know the full story,” said Kirishima.
“Then explain it, already!” Ashido shouted.
“I don’t think we’re being unreasonable,” said Tokoyami.
“Yeah, you made me look like an ass in front of everyone!” Mineta yelled. He hopped off his chair and jabbed at Kaminari’s knees. “You owe us an explanation!”
Kirishima looked at everyone, then at Kaminari. Kaminari watched the way sunlight reflected off the windows.
“That’s what I thought,” said Yaoyorozu.
All the adrenaline in the room was crushing. Kaminari caught a look of his reflection in the window.
Kaminari hadn’t looked in a mirror since he’d come back to UA. His reflection didn’t look real. He’d only ever reflected Shigaraki: his eyes and ears, his hands, his will. If Shigaraki walked in and told him to do something, he wasn’t confident that he wouldn’t be able to obey. Suddenly, Kaminari didn’t know who he was without him.
“I’m sorry,” he said to his reflection, though he meant it for his class.
The tension in the room reached a mountain-high peak. From where he was leaning by the sink, Satou said, “No offence, Kaminari, but I think it might be a little late for ‘I’m sorry.’”
Anger spiked hot through him and burst through the flimsy common-sense streak he still had. Kaminari seized the nearest chair and thrust it into his reflection in the window.
“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?!” Kaminari screamed.
The chair hit the glass. One moment, the window had been whole, complete. Then a star of cracked glass radiated out, touching the corners, enveloping his reflection. He couldn’t see himself anymore.
Kaminari was a live wire, uncontrolled and ungrounded. When he faced the class again, he wasn’t afraid.
“You don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to,” said Kaminari. He searched the room. He found Ashido again, staring wide-eyed at him, and pretended he was talking directly to her. “There’s things I just can’t talk about right now and I asked Kirishima, Hagakure, Midoriya, and Bakugou not to talk to anyone.”
Jirou glared at him, and then Kirishima. “Why would you cover for him?”
“They’re not covering for me,” Kaminari cut in before Kirishima could answer. “They’re being respectful to me even though they don’t have to. That’s more…That’s more than I’ve ever gotten before, so don’t take that away from me before I’m ready.”
His voice slipped on the end. Jirou looked equal parts confused and sad and heated and cold. He saw her eyes back down, which was a first—coming from her. Kaminari felt he was walking on hot coals and desperately trying to reach the finish before he got third-degree burns.
Silence extended into an eternity. And when he couldn’t take it anymore, when words of forgiveness and reassurance didn’t come, Kaminari peeled himself off of the ground and kept running. When he got to the stairwell, his strength gave out and he huddled down on the steps to compose himself, shaking all over and wondering if he should’ve crawled back into the taxi with Tomura.
He was there for a while when Kirishima came in, flanked by Sero and, to his surprise, Ashido. Faint traces of anger were still in her eyes, but they were softer now.
“Remember what I said about you telling Sero and Ashido?” Kirishima asked, sitting on the steps next to Kaminari. “I think now’s a good time to do it.”
“Why?” Kaminari asked.
“So we can support you, dumbass. You don’t have to do this all on your own.”
Kaminari wrung his hands around the vertical posts on the handrail and stared into eternity.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what happened.”
Kaminari ached all over when he woke up and he wondered if he was imagining the chest pain he felt until he gasped for breath and it melted throughout his body.
He stared at the Crimson Riot poster plastered on the ceiling. It was hard not to think of Kirishima when he thought of Crimson Riot, hard not to see Crimson Riot as the imposter and Kirishima as the genuine article. It was hard not to feel judged with the two-dimensional hero staring down at him.
Kaminari rolled over on the cot to see Kirishima pulling on his pants at the other side of the room. He had the frazzled look of a student late for class, even though there was more than enough time for him to get ready. His cell phone was pinned between his ear and his shoulder.
“Yeah, I can ask Jirou to bring it to you tonight,” said Kirishima. “Do you want the big one?…The big one, okay…Well, if the nurses have a problem with a giant stuffed bear, they can deal with it. I think you should get an even bigger one that fills the whole room just to get on their nerves.”
Kirishima locked eyes with Kaminari.
“Oh, he’s awake. Do you want to talk to him?”
Kirishima gave him the phone and he saw the name on the display. It was Hagakure. Kaminari hesitated, but then Kirishima was shoving the phone into his hands anyway and he didn’t have a choice.
“Hey, Tooru,” said Kaminari.
“I was worried about you,” Hagakure sounded as chipper as ever, albeit with her voice mildly slurred. “How are you doing?”
Kaminari reeled from the question, then composed himself. “You’re the one in hospital. I should ask you that.”
“I’m fine. I’m trying to talk them into releasing me. Sure, I can’t move my arm or leg, but I think I could still get around okay. Do you think they’ll let me ride a scooter to school? I think I could get around on a scooter.”
Kaminari pressed the flat of his palm on his forehead.
“Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Kirishima filled me in on things. You’re under house arrest now?”
“Pretty much.” He rubbed his eyes. “Look, there’s some stuff I want to tell you.”
“About Hokama?”
“Yeah, and a bunch of other stuff I think you deserve to know about. Not sure if I want to do it over the phone, it’s more like something I should say in person.”
“Let’s talk when I get out of the hospital. We can have another secret meeting at midnight and I’ll bring the ice cream.”
“Yeah. Okay. Sounds like a plan. I’ll talk to you later.”
He hung up before she could answer.
“Did you just hang up on her?” Kirishima asked, incredulous.
“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Kaminari tossed Kirishima and put his face in his hands.
“Why? It’s just Hagakure.” Kirishima let out a long sigh. “Nevermind, I’ll smooth it over with her. You better keep that counselling session with Hound Dog today.”
“Not like I have anything better to do.”
“And since you don’t have anything better to do, you can come to breakfast.”
“I’m not that hungry.”
“Wasn’t asking! Recovery Girl wants you to actually, y’know, remember to eat.”
Kaminari shrieked as Kirishima grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled him up. Looks like he didn’t have a choice but to face the day.
For the time being, Kaminari had moved into Kirishima’s room. He couldn’t stomach the thought of returning to his old room, which was alive with too many bad memories of late-night calls with Shigaraki and frantic pacing at midnight. Most importantly, he didn’t want to be alone. The extrovert inside of him craved human contact and Kirishima was the most likely to tolerate him giving recent events.
It was the first day back at class and also the first day of Kaminari’s house arrest. He was relieved that Tsukauchi was persuaded to let him serve it at the dorms rather than Aizawa’s apartment; his teacher wouldn’t make for a good roommate, and he needed the contact with Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido.
Kaminari didn’t bother changing out of his sleep clothes, not when he fully intended to lie down and stare at the ceiling for the whole day.
They met up with Sero and Ashido at the end of the hall, both of them already dressed in their school uniforms.
“Wow, you actually left Kirishima’s room!” Ashido said with levity so forced he thought she had a gun pointed at her back.
“It’s a nice day to work on my agoraphobia,” said Kaminari.
“Here, I made something for you. You better like it, cuz I worked hard on it, and I watched, like, two whole tutorials.”
Ashido pulled out a crocheted blindingly pink flaphat with cat ears. Without waiting for permission—because since when did Ashido wait?—she shoved it on top of Kaminari’s head hard enough to pull it over his eyes.
“Since when do you crochet?” Kaminari asked.
“Since I put my mind to it,” said Ashido. “Do you like it?”
Kaminari settled the hat in a comfortable position, playing with the braided ties. They were long enough to reach his waist and the hat was a little too large and the ears were lopsided. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten such a great present. “It’s soft. I like it.”
“Good, because I never want to crochet again. Nobody told me I needed math to crochet! If I wanted to do math, I’d stay awake during math class.”
“I feel you, Mina,” Kaminari nodded sagely. “I feel you.”
“There’s people down in the common room if we’re gonna eat,” said Sero. “You sure you’re okay with that, Kaminari?”
Kaminari clenched and unclenched his hands. “Sure.”
“And once again, I don’t believe you.”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
Sero and Kirishima closed in on both sides and they headed downstairs, Ashido skipping and rambling about her deep hatred for math on their way. No one seemed to listen too closely to her. Maybe they also had the sense, like Kaminari did, that Ashido was determined to talk about anything that wasn’t the events of the last few weeks.
Voices rushed down the hall when they reached the ground level, swarming every corner. He felt like with every step, Tomura was in sync, his memory strangling him and his long fingers clasped tight around his ankles to drag him back.
The voices bounced around the dorm and then tripped over into a silence. Satou was aggressively making waffles, but paused when Kaminari’s entourage appeared around the corner, and everyone else turned in their seats to just stare. Kaminari wanted to flee back to the safety of Kirishima’s room.
“Hey, come sit here!” Ojiro suddenly called out.
Of course, Ojiro had to sit at a table on the far, far end of the room. That meant walking past everyone’s eyes. Kaminari solved the problem by putting up a hand to cover his face and walking very, very fast.
He threw himself into the seat next to Ojiro and looked up to see Tsu and Mineta sitting opposite of him. After a long pause, Tsu moved to a different table and Mineta trailed behind her.
“Do you want any waffles?” Ojiro asked.
“Good, how are you?” Kaminari asked and immediately regretted opening his mouth.
“Extra waffles, then.”
Kaminari narrowed his vision of the other students by cupping his hands around his head, blocking them all out like blinders.
“I should’ve stayed in the room,” Kaminari said.
“I’m proud of you for coming out,” said Kirishima.
“Yeah, besides, you would’ve missed out on Satou’s cooking,” said Sero.
Despite himself, Kaminari looked over to Satou, who was hovering near the waffle maker. The smell of burning batter filled the air, and Satou frantically went back to cooking.
Kaminari really did his best to ignore the weighty whispers around him. Someone put food on his plate and shoved it under his nose. Ashido was still talking about how much she hated math in an unnecessarily loud voice.
It wasn’t like Kaminari to stay out of the conversation around the dinner table; he always threw himself right into everything. However, he kept quiet, acutely aware of the eyes on the back of his neck. He still felt Tomura’s teeth piercing his skin, and didn’t realize that he’d been staring at his food for five minutes instead of eating until Sero nudged him in the shoulder.
Kaminari wanted to stay still for an eternity. He wanted to become a statue of chiselled stone, unmovable, to become a constant in the background of everyone’s lives. A figurehead that everyone saw and no one thought about. He ate his way mechanically through his waffles, ears ringing the whole time and fighting the urge to bolt. Everything in him wanted to, but the weight of his stone feet was too heavy.
He felt Bakugou’s approach before anyone else did. Bakugou rolled in on a thundercloud on crutches. The air froze. Kaminari waited and for the second time, the room’s silence slammed into him.
Bakugou found him from across the room and locked in. No one dared stop him as he wobbled his way over to where Kaminari sat, and he wisely set down his utensils before someone got hurt. Bakugou loomed over him, a low rumble vibrating through his whole body.
“Hey, Kacchan,” said Kaminari.
Bakugou slapped the flat of his palm on the back of Kaminari’s head and his neck snapped like he was a dinky Sedan colliding with Bakugou’s semi-truck. Several voices erupted at once. Then Bakugou whirled him around, fingers wound tight in his shirt, and brought their faces close together.
“Bakugou, don’t!” Kirishima pled.
“Shut the fuck up,” said Bakugou. He growled at Kaminari, spittle pelting his face. “Listen up. Anyone else here gets hurt because of you, I’m gonna do a lot worse than giving you a stern warning. I’m gonna rip your spine out of your body and jump rope with it.”
“You can’t hurt me,” said Kaminari. He felt calm, almost serene. Threats meant nothing if they didn’t come from Tomura. “I’ve had worse.”
Iida stepped in, fortunately much quicker than he had back in Uraraka’s room. He shoved his hands between them and shoved them apart.
“No fighting in the common room!” Iida demanded. “Class starts soon. Everyone finish up and get a move on.”
Bakugou scowled at Kaminari, then hobbled away, scowling.
“Believe it or not, this is an improvement over how he was a few days ago,” said Kirishima.
“Don’t worry, I believe it,” Kaminari smiled. “You guys better go catch up with him before he falls over on those crutches.”
Sero grinned at him, all soft and supportive, and filed out with the crowd leaving the common room. Ashido hugged him and playfully pulled his hat over his eyes before taking off, too. And then it was just Kirishima left by his side, the one constant in his life.
“You sure you gonna be okay?” Kirishima asked. “I can ask Aizawa if he can give me the day off.”
“Dude, you’re not suspended with me,” said Kaminari. “Go to class. And try to pay attention, I’m gonna need all the help I can get with the make-up work Mr Aizawa’s gonna lay on me.”
“Only if you promise to pay attention when Hound Dog has that counselling session with you. I’ve had one already, Kaminari. It helps.”
Kaminari shuffled and stared at his feet, like they had all the answers. “We’ll see.”
Then, Kirishima pat his shoulder and ran to catch up with the others. It was impossibly quiet and he was alone.
Kaminari collapsed back into the chair, hands over his face. He wanted to sink back into bed and never talk to anyone again. If this was what it was going to be like in Heights Alliance, he didn’t want to think about the world on the outside. At least here, he could pull blinds and lock doors and hide behind Kirishima. Out there, there was no protective filter to keep him safe, no shield he could wear to block out the bullets.
He was thinking about how much effort it was going to take just to walk back upstairs to Kirishima’s room when a shadow extended on the table.
Midoriya stood there, framed by sunlight streaming through the windows in long golden waterfalls. Half his face was bandaged in white. Smouldering afterimages of Himiko popped up in his vision. Was it Himiko or was it Midoriya?
He couldn’t look, he couldn’t look, he couldn’t—
“Kaminari, don’t go!”
Kaminari hadn’t realized that he was running until he was fighting with a doorhandle leading into a closet. Midoriya caught up with him—he knew it was Midoriya because Himiko couldn’t feign worry. His hand wrapped tight around the handle and he couldn’t let go, joints glued into place.
Midoriya’s mangled face and flesh transfixed him. It was almost hypnotic. He could still see all the red and didn’t know how Midoriya was standing in front of him, not only alive, but looking concerned.
“I’m sorry,” said Kaminari. “I’m so sorry—”
Midoriya smiled sadly. He pried Kaminari’s fingers off of the handle and held them in his hands.
“I’m glad you’re here,” said Midoriya. “I was worried you wouldn’t be.”
Kaminari couldn’t breathe. His hands were sweaty, but Midoriya held them anyway.
“…Please don’t pass out.”
“I thought you were still in the hospital,” said Kaminari.
“I just got out yesterday.”
“Aren’t you going to be late for class?”
“It can wait. I’m sure Mr Aizawa will understand.”
Kaminari’s heart rate finally evened out, and Midoriya released his hands.
“Feeling better?”
“A little, yeah,” he gasped out. “Sorry, I’ve been super jumpy lately. Can’t figure out why!”
“Yeah, same,” Midoriya admitted. “How are you doing? Is everyone treating you alright?”
“I mean…does it matter?”
“Of course it does.”
Kaminari lost the will to keep standing and they sat side-by-side in the corridor, the silence hanging between them.
“How long are you…?” Midoriya began.
“Ninety days in house arrest, then I’m on probation until I’m twenty,” Kaminari answered. “I’m lucky they let me serve house arrest in the dorms; I really didn’t want to live with Mr Aizawa for ninety days. He’d probably make me do homework and go to bed on time.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Midoriya, it could be a lot worse. I’m okay with this. And hey, three years is gonna go by really fast.” He fingered his hat ties, weaving them between his fingers and holding on. “I told Sero and Ashido, well, everything.”
“How’d they take it?”
“Well, Sero’s hard to get a read on, but I think he’s just rolling with things. Mina won’t admit that she’s taking things hard.”
“Are they still angry?”
“No. No, I think once they…well, once they heard, it’s hard to be angry at a guy with a tragic backstory like me. It just hasn’t really sunk in that I’m free yet. I wish it hadn’t cost half the friendships that ever meant something to me.”
“You still have the other half,” Midoriya assured him. “I’m happy for you; I’m glad you don’t have to lie anymore.”
“Everyone’s pissed off. I don’t know if Bakugou will ever talk to me again. How’d you guys even get him to agree to keep quiet about my whole baggage?”
“Honestly, I didn’t really have to. He didn’t put up much of a fight on that end. I would try to avoid him for a while, though; he holds grudges.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Midoriya scooted a little closer. “Kirishima said that you wanted to be a hero.”
“It’s more like, I don’t know what else to do with my life. I mean, maybe I can stop what happened to me from happening to some other kid. Maybe that’s worth it. I remember hoping some Hero would come rescue me, but I was…I was…” His voice trembled in his throat and he couldn’t stop. “He took a needle and I remember feeling it under my eyelid. I thought my eye was gonna pop out. There was so much pressure, there was blood running down my face, right here, and…and then a crack…”
Midoriya squeezed his forearm.
“…Everything just dampened out after that. God, it’s so hard to think sometimes! It’s like trying to see through a blizzard.” He tugged hard on the hat ties. “I was there for a while and I disappeared. Tomura was the one thing in my life that I could see clearly.”
To say Midoriya looked concerned was an understatement. Kaminari tried hard to find himself in the blizzard and drag himself to the shallow parts of the snow.
“I’m sorry,” said Kaminari. “I didn’t really want to do anything Tomura wanted to do. I was desperate, I think.”
“I understand,” said Midoriya, and he meant it.
“He made me mutilate you. You shouldn’t be okay with that.”
“Well, it just means I get to have an iconic eyepatch for my hero costume,” Midoriya shrugged. “Do you think it’d be too tacky to have one with All-Might’s face on it?”
Kaminari tried to laugh, he really did. His attempted laughter buckled under its own weight.
“You know…” Midoriya started. “I’m still recovering from everything. Want to hang out today?”
“You should really go to class,” said Kaminari. “I told Kirishima to go.”
“Yeah, but my…I’m still sore, from everything, and the painkillers make me lightheaded.”
Kaminari almost pointed out that Midoriya had gone to school with injuries nearly as bad or worse than his eye. Midoriya had that glint, though, that glint he got whenever he wanted to rescue someone, and Kaminari realized he was the one that needed rescuing.
When he nodded, Midoriya’s smile blossomed wide. It was worth it just for that. “Great! Let me change and we’ll find something to do. Be right back.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kaminari sang.
After Midoriya left, Kaminari went to the window and stared into the courtyard. He wasn’t really looking, though. The trees, the light, the dorms—they were just a backdrop. What he really looked at was his sallow reflection and how small he looked, how small Tomura made him feel.
He thought about the inescapable pressure in his head, ebbing and flowing like Hokama’s ghost was prodding it. But he wasn’t. It was just a memory, a phantom sensation left over from ripping off the limb of his old life.
He thought about how he hated the ways people. Kirishima looked at him with pity. Bakugou chose anger. Nezu always looked right through him and Midoriya used gentleness. He wished he knew how Hagakure would look at him from now on. The mask was off, lying in shards at his feet, and it stung whenever he took a step into the future.
He thought about how the future filled him with enough existential anxiety to make his skin crawl.
Mostly, Kaminari thought about how good it felt to be free.
THE END
Art by BlueGhostCat!