Chapter Text
HINT #18 - The time he returned
"What happened." Hawk's voice was unusually frantic, eyes wild and hair unkempt from the speeds he'd flown down to UA. He wasn't asking. Gone was the charismatic, charming pro hero who knew how to work a crowd. Standing before Class 1-A was a maniac, lips curled in thinly veiled disgust as he gazed upon the students who allowed Denki Kaminari to be taken away from them. "Tell me everything."
No one spoke, overwhelmed by everything they'd seen and heard and too afraid to anger the clearly unstable individual standing before them.
Hawk's breathing grew more labored with every passing second, fingers twitching, though from anticipation or rage, no one could tell. "Well? FUCKING SPEAK." He licked his lips, feathers ruffling in his anxiety. "God, you all are so fucking useless-"
"He was taken by the Hero Commission." Iida, ever the leader, took the opportunity to interject. He sounded uncharacteristically unsure of himself, but if anyone noticed, no one said anything. His desire to be the perfect class president, his commitment to graduating UA with honors, and his dream to become the best pro hero Japan had ever seen...had he been misguided in his aspirations? His entire ideological outlook on life had been flipped on its head the moment one of his best friends revealed that he had been working for an organization he'd been taught to hate without question. Had been working? Was still working...? "I think. Ka...uh, he said they were the Hero Commission. I didn't recognize them. They were led by this lady. Um-"
"Don't fucking stutter over his name like that." Hawks hissed. His knuckles were white. For all of his popularity and fame, Hawks as a person was practically nonexistent. No one knew where he came from, and once the job was done, no one knew where he went. The tabloids could never manage to snap a picture of Hawks out in public, nor was anyone ever able to track down any known family. As such, it wasn't uncommon for news anchors desperate for views or starving journalists to concoct crazy conspiracy theories about where Hawk's true allegiance lay. Some argued that he was secretly in league with villains such as All For One. Others countered with the obvious truth that he was a well-respected member of the Hero Commission with an outstanding public record and an unprecedented number of victories to match.
But looking at him now, skin a frightening mix of pale white and crimson red, pupils vibrating with unseen rage, and lips twisted into undeniable disgust, there seemed to be absolutely no doubt that his loyalties to one particular teenager trumped all others.
Iida's mouth clicked shut, trying to ignore the chill that just washed over him. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"You meant." Hawks spat out. He scanned the class once, twice, thrice over, quickly gauging each of their reactions to his demands. "I don't care what the fuck you know about him, and I'm not going to tell you what the fuck I know about him. But what I do know is that name is the only fucking thing he has that hasn't been ripped away from him by sick, hungry power bastards who've made the last 16 years of his life hell, so you better fucking use it."
Iida swallowed. He...he didn't know quite what to make of that speech. He wasn't crazy for being at least slightly suspicious of Kaminari in this situation, right? He seemed to be the only one in this entire fucking ordeal who apparently had the absolute gall to question whether their trust in the blond had been misplaced. Sure,...the logic of the plan wasn't really there, but his classmates had literally attacked Iida when he'd even broached the topic of Kaminari really being a traitor. And now Hawks? Surely, he wasn't crazy for doubting...
"Okay. Um. Kaminari...was taken by this lady who said she was with the Hero Commission. She said she knows him..? I-"
"Headmistress," Kirishima interjected. He looked at Iida sideways, his face twisted into something unrecognizable. It was almost as if he could sense the internal struggle within his class president, logic and emotion ferociously battling with each other to win precedence over the other. "He called her Headmistress. Or, at least, that's what she wanted him to call her."
"Headmistress..." Hawks muttered. He poked his tongue through his cheek, eyes suddenly darkening with recognition. The anger bubbling beneath the pro hero's skin seemed ready to boil over, stopping abruptly in the middle of his frantic pacing at the mention of the title. "Fuck. Blonde hair, red lipstick? Stilettos?"
"Yeah, whatever." Bakugou barked. All things considered, he'd been quiet for a record amount of time. Whether he'd just been processing everything he'd just seen or if Hawk's thinly veiled threats had scared him into keeping his trap shut, no one knew. "What the hell is going on? Where is Sparky being taken? Who the hell is that fat old shitbag who took him with her? WHO THE FUCK ARE HIS PARENTS? WHAT-"
"How much do you know."
The words were stolen from Bakugou's lips. That wasn't a question. It was a demand.
"Not a lot," Midoriya interjected. He seemed uncharacteristically confused, but unlike the others, his voice held fast. Hawks pursed his lips. Okay. If anyone was going to be sympathetic to Kaminari's situation, it was this kid right here. He'd figured out that Midoriya possessed One For All pretty quickly after seeing him at the sports festival, and Kaminari hadn't wasted any time putting the pieces together either. That could help. Midoriya was no stranger to deception, even though the kid sweat like a pig any time anyone brought up any questions whatsoever about his quirk. Hawks could use that common ground to unite Midoriya and Kaminari; hopefully, the entire class would follow.
Hawks didn't have any right to meddle in Kaminari's personal life. He knew that. No matter their history together, there was a silent agreement between the childhood friends that none of them were allowed to dictate the path any of them had chosen. It was easier that way, and for Kaminari, that meant balancing his carefully crafted façade while also outmaneuvering all those who were after him.
But Kaminari wasn't here right now, and Hawks had a decision to make. And...well, fuck whatever promises they'd made to each other. If Hawks had to choose between a dead Kaminari and an angry one, he'd much rather have the latter.
"What exactly does not a lot mean." Hawk's voice was flat, almost incredulous, as he scanned Midoriya up and down. Sizing him up.
"Uh..." Midoriya trailed off, casting a sidelong glance Hawk's way. Hawk's feathers twitched. Okay. They were wasting valuable time, but okay. Midoriya was unwilling to reveal whatever they'd found out about Kaminari to a fellow Pro Hero. That was good. Suspicion was good. Kaminari hadn't completely lost them, at least not yet. But, of course, that could change. After all, Class 1-A still hadn't told Hawks how much they knew and how much was still hidden away from them. "I don't..."
"Spit it out, kid." Hawk's hissed. His eyes flashed redder than usual. The sudden mood shift made Midoriya straighten, freckles scrunching in defiance. "I know everything there is to fucking know about Kaminari. It's not you keeping things from me. It's me keeping things from you. And I'll tell you one thing. Kaminari is probably getting slaughtered like a fucking animal as we speak, so if you don't want the last time you see him to be in a bunch of little fucking body bags, then I suggest you start talking."
That last sentence made Sero's head perk up. He'd been quiet, letting the rest of his classmates take the lead as he mulled over everything he'd just seen. Well, tried to mull over. His mind was a mess, and he didn't know what to believe, but despite everything, the one thing he did know was that he didn't want Kaminari Denki dead.
"We know he's an assassin." Sero's voice was timid. He eyed Hawks apprehensively as if afraid he was giving the wrong answer to a nonexistent question. "Or, uh...was...an assassin. She said it. And, uh...he kind of confirmed. Oh, uh...and he killed those guys..." Sero pointed limply at the bodies still scattered around the courtyard. A good five were the product of stray bullets running awry. The other forty were unfortunate enough to come into contact with Kaminari Denki with a knife in hand. "And, um, he kept talking about All Might. And...other assassins. And some school? Is he...do you know if he's working for-"
"Okay." Hawks cut Sero off with a flick of his wrist, effectively silencing him before yet another unanswerable question graced his tongue. "So you said he was taken by the Headmistress. Did she say what for? Did she have any motive behind her attacks?"
"She gave him an ultimatum," Jirou muttered. Her forehead was coated in dried blood, and one of her eyes was already starting to bruise from the altercation with the Hero Commission. Her cheeks were flushed and stained with a unique mix of tears and sweat. Much like many others standing before her in the courtyard, she looked absolutely awful. "She said he could either work for her or she would take him back to his parents."
"And he chose to go back to his parents." Hawks stopped her before she could ask the obvious question. Since Sero hadn't mentioned anything (paired with Bakugou losing his mind over it a few minutes ago), it was clear that Kaminari's friends didn't know the details about his mother and father, much less their infamy. Hawks didn't know what they'd been told. Kaminari had most likely mentioned in passing that his folks were dead or something. No use in him making a big deal out of something he didn't want his friends looking into. "That selfish, selfless bastard. Ah, fuck him."
Hawks ran a hand through his hair. He could feel his blood boiling, threatening to burst at any moment. He turned his glare onto the students standing dumbly around him, poorly concealed rage itching just beneath his skin. "Fuck all of you. Fuck. You. Do you know the hell that kid has been through? Do you know the lengths he went to escape it? All to just fucking throw all of that away because of a few fucking teenagers?"
No one said anything. Probably because no one knew what to say.
Hawk's chest heaved up and down, teetering precariously between an uncontrollable rampage and a full-on mental breakdown. He knew the accusations weren't fair. Hell, they didn't even make any sense. Friendship was a risky business. Kaminari knew that more than anyone. And more than anything, Kaminari knew from the beginning that if he got attached to his classmates, he'd be putting himself in an incredibly vulnerable spot.
In Kaminari's world, having people he cared about meant having potential leverage to be used against him. Before UA, he didn't have that. He fucking hated his parents, not that anyone, supervillain or otherwise, would be stupid enough to threaten Livewire and Scarlet Killer in the first place. The only friends he'd really had were Keigo, Himiko, Touya, and the few assassins who survived the Establishment, but they were either manic, dangerous, or bloodthirsty killers who could handle anyone who tried to use them as bait for Kaminari.
Class 1-A, though, wasn't like that. They were strong, sure, but they weren't prepared to do anything it took to survive. They hadn't been subjected to the brutal 'kill or be killed' philosophy Kaminari's old friends had been forced to live by. As such, they weren't prepared to do anything and everything necessary to ensure that they didn't get caught by some deranged psychopath or another. That's what made them vulnerable. And Kaminari knew that. He dove headfirst into UA, knowing that when this day came, all the cards would be in his opponent's hand.
Hawks knew he was just looking for someone to blame. The kids were probably confused enough as it was. After all, Kaminari's alter-ego had been masterfully crafted, complete with convincing backstories, expert diversion tactics, and...
Holy shit, he'd forgotten something.
"All Might." Hawks inhaled sharply, the sudden change in demeanor making more than a few anguished faces turn upwards. The Pro Hero's feathers ruffled reflexively, eyes landing instinctively on Midoriya. "Forget everything I just said. Where is All Might."
"Good idea!" Midoriya visibly brightened at the mention of his mentor, though that wasn't saying much given his otherwise bleak expression. "We need to find All Might. Maybe he knows what's going on. He could..."
"Fuck. All Might." Hawks growled through gritted teeth. These kids were starting to test his patience, which wasn't a good thing, given what was at stake here. His eyes were cold, unenterable steel, fighting the urge to punch something as incredulous gasps sounded from all around him at his defamation of the once number-one hero. "Where. Is. He."
"Uh..." Midoriya faltered, decidedly caught off guard by Hawk's slanderous remark. If it had been anyone else under any other circumstance, Midoriya no doubt would've begun defending All Might until his last breath, but something about Hawk's expression stopped him. His words were absolute. He knew something. "I don't know. In the building, maybe? We haven't seen him."
"That bitch." Hawks hissed. His words were quiet, but it may as well have been a declaration. "Okay. Whatever. Okay. You all have been decidedly unhelpful, so thank you for that." His wings tensed, readying himself for take off. As much as he loved interrogating these kids and deciphering their cryptic as fuck answers, it was clear they didn't possess any information deemed worthy enough to keep him here. He had more important things to do, like alert Toga and Dabi and track down Livewire and Scarlet Killer. If that was even possible. "If any of you say a word about Kaminari to anyone else, I'll rip your fucking faces off."
"Wait!"
Hawks hesitated against his better judgment. Clearly, someone had recognized that he'd been about two seconds away from flying off and never looking back, taking all of the answers Class 1-A was so desperately vying for with him as a concession. And judging by the voice, that person was Todoroki. If it had been Bakugou, Hawk's would've been halfway across town by now. Hell, he probably would've tried to leave even faster. But if there was anyone in this group who deserved even an iota of his respect in this situation, it was Touya's baby brother. After all, he'd been an adorable little toddler once upon a time, and Hawks never really got over the guilt of (indirectly) robbing him of a childhood with his big brother.
"What."
"If you're going to rescue Kaminari, we're coming with you."
The boy sounded uncharacteristically emotional, abandoning his usual flat, passive candor for declarations laced with panic and hysteria. Todoroki looked worse than Hawk's had ever seen him. His porcelain skin was blotchy and covered in cuts and bruises. He was bleeding from his left temple, streaks of blood running down his forehead and making his scar look ever more gruesome. His legs looked shaky, his face was pale, and his fingertips were coated in ice crystals that wouldn't melt away no matter how hard he tried.
The kid was, for lack of a better word, exhausted. That was plain as day.
Although, that didn't stop his declaration from being anything short of resolute.
"No." Hawk's voice was flat. It was a nice sentiment but also the worst idea ever. "Absolutely not."
"Why?!" Kirishima countered. Suddenly, the kid was amped, eyes wide and rocking back and forth on his heels in anticipation. His fingers twitched, producing a decidedly unpleasant scratching sound as his nails dug at the skin that had yet to become unhardened. "You were blaming us for this situation literally five seconds ago. Let us help! Let us get him back! Let us save him."
Hawks chuckled darkly, his laugh sour and bitter all at once. "That's nice of you to want to make fucking amends, kid, but no. You can't even comprehend what is going on here. This situation has been building for months under your noses, and you knew of none of it." He scoffed. It was cold. Uncaring, even, but Keigo found that he didn't have the energy to give a damn. All the cards were out on the table now. He didn't have to act like the stupid, happy-go-lucky superhero the Hero Commission painted him to be anymore. Fuck the Hero Commission. "You'll only get in my way."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Hawks stopped in his tracks. Something about that tone, that voice, made his feathers ruffle. He pursed his lips, turning his head slowly. Deliberately. "Excuse me?"
"I said," Bakugou put a hand to his chest and cleared his throat, looking almost infuriatingly rational despite the dire circumstances. "Who. The fuck. Do you think you are?"
Had this little confrontation happened during Hawk's underground days, the blond may very well have been slumped on the ground, lying in a pool of his own blood right about now. But Keigo was a hero now. He was held to a higher standard, never mind that this fucking kid kept delaying his fucking rescue mission with every insufferable syllable that rolled off his tongue.
Hawk's hand curled into a fist, nails piercing the skin of his palms, staining his fingertips a shade of red that was eerily similar to the liquid splattered on the ground around them. His wings flared up, preparing for takeoff. If this little bitch wanted to ramble and try to play a hero after demanding Hawks answer questions that he had no right to know the answer to, then fine. Whatever. But Keigo wasn't about to let these teenager's insistence on getting the whole story delay his rescue mission any longer.
That is...if it even is a rescue mission.
Hawks knew full well that he was unprepared to face the music if this turned out to be a...recovery mission instead.
Besides, Class 1-A was entirely out of their league when it came to the people they were up against, and that was another reason Hawks was so adamant about them staying behind. The brutal truth was, it wouldn't be...unsurprising for the group to arrive in the underground only to be welcomed with Kaminari's head on a spike and his appendages displayed on his parents' bedroom shelves like they were trophies to be won.
For all his snooping around the Hero Commission, it was still unclear what Kaminari's parents intended to do with him now that he was back in their clutches. Sure, Hawks suspected that there was a significant possibility that they would take advantage of having Golden at their disposal again, but also, they'd be fools to think that Kaminari was as mindlessly scared of them now as he was when he escaped at thirteen years old.
Defiance was welcome in the assassination ring, sometimes even encouraged, but never against one's masters.
People had been killed for less. Ankoku, Morana, and Shio had been killed for less...
He, Toga, Dabi, and Kaminari... they'd all been asked to kill for less.
"HEY." Against his will, Bakugou's grating, sandpapery voice was still flooding his ears. Hawks cringed, visibly bristling as he felt the blond approach him from behind. "Listen up, you pretentious, noble fucking bastard. I used to fucking look up to you, but now I see that you're a lying sack of shit who wouldn't know a helping hand if it slapped your bitchass in the face. And maybe Kaminari's the same way. We wouldn't know because you're not fucking telling us anything, but who the fuck cares."
Hawks blinked at the intensity of the declaration. Bakugou continued.
"I don't know what the fuck I think about Kaminari right now, mainly because you've been telling us what to think about Kaminari right now. I don't know if I trust that you haven't lost your shit and come completely fucking insane. But you better believe that I am going to ask his sorry ass for an explanation face to face after we rescue him from wherever the fuck that crazy bitch took him, and then I'll decide if I want to blow his fucking face in or not. But as of right now, you have two options, you son of a bitch. You either take us with you, or we go anyway into unknown enemy territory because we are prepared to die for Kaminari just like he was prepared to die for us."
Bakugou's chest was heaving, eyes locked in a stalemate with Keigo's. It wasn't so much the volume of the blond's words as it was the intensity that made his speech so utterly compelling, so utterly infuriating that it made Hawks pause for the final time in his desperate bid to save his friend.
"Fine." The words were dripping with contempt, but the obvious venom in Hawk's voice made Bakugou no less satisfied. "But only some of you. And don't you dare try to fight me on this one because I have no problem breaking all of your legs right here where we stand if that's what it takes for me to get Kaminari out of there smoothly."
"Deal," Bakugou said immediately. His body was stiff, adrenaline still pumping through his veins as the reality of what he had just committed to set in, but his eyes were no less confident in his decision. Had the situation not been so dire, Hawks was almost positive he would've found himself smirking at the irony of this picture of teenage heroism. Where the fuck was that loyalty within the Hero Commission, huh? "We won't get in your way."
"Good," Hawks replied. "Because my main objective is rescuing Kaminari and Kaminari only. If a situation arises where I have to choose between saving one of you and saving him, I will be saving him every time." His face was stone, and his words were uncharacteristically direct, but Hawks couldn't find it in himself to care. He wasn't about to waste any more time than absolutely necessary giving these teenagers a debrief on some elaborate extraction plan or battle formation.
Plus, the only reason he was bringing them along was because if they tried to infiltrate the underground alone (on the off chance that they would actually be able to find it, but given Class 1-A's luck, Midoriya would probably accidentally stumble right into where they needed to go or something), there was a very high chance that they, as famous as they were within the black market given the class's relationship with the League of Villains, would be caught and slaughtered almost immediately, which would inevitably draw attention to Keigo's own attempt at rescuing their friend.
"Got it." Bakugou nodded curtly.
Hawks narrowed his eyes. "I'll only say this one last time, kid. If one of you shitheads puts yourself in danger that takes more than five seconds for me to resolve, you're on your own. And for fuck's sake, try not to be so absolutely pathetic that you get yourselves killed because that won't affect my conscience, but it will affect Kaminari's. So don't. Be. Dumbasses."
Silence.
Hawk's sucked in a breath of air. "Who's going. Seven people. Now."
"Me." Bakugou. Obviously.
"I am." Midoriya. Typical.
Hawks just stared. "Where we're going, most people will know who you are and what your quirk is. You'd be high risk, high reward. Do you understand that?"
"Um-" Midoriya visibly startled at the mention of his quirk but quickly composed himself as a familiar fire alit in his eyes. Hawks didn't say anything, simply observing. The kid didn't seriously think his quirk was a secret to absolutely everyone, did he? "Yes. I understand. I'm still going."
"Good." Hawks nodded curtly before turning back to the rest of the group. "Who else. Quickly."
"I'm going." Kirishima. Not surprising.
"Me too." Mina. Slightly more surprising.
"I will." Todoroki. Hm.
"We might see your brother down there." Hawks countered smoothly. It wasn't said maliciously. Simply an observation. If one of these kids showed any indication that they'd be unable to handle the risks they'd inevitably face when venturing to the assassination ring, Hawks didn't want them on the team. Simple as that. "Are you prepared to kill him?"
The question was so deceptively simple yet held so much unspoken weight.
"Yes." Todoroki only needed a moment's hesitation. "Touya's already dead."
"Okay." Hawks nodded. That's one way to justify it. "Two more."
"I'll go." Uraraka. Interesting choice.
"And me." Iida.
"No," Hawks replied immediately. "You've made your suspicions of Kaminari are pretty crystal fucking clear."
"I know," Iida replied. His eyes were wide, but despite his frightful demeanor, he appeared exceptionally composed. "But no matter how I look at the facts in front of me, I just can't imagine a world where Kaminari kills for the fun of it. And...even if he did, I can't imagine a world where I would allow myself to just sit by and watch him die."
Hawks wet his lips, giving Iida a once over before finally tilting his chin in approval. "Fine. But if you show even a second's hesitation in completing our mission, I will not hesitate to rip those engines off your legs scrap by scrap and leave you for dead. Understand?"
Hawks was so going to be fired after this for talking to students this way. But right now? He didn't care. If all went as planned, his employer would no longer exist anyway, so fuck it.
"Okay." Hawks pointed to the remaining students, most of which were still too dumbfounded to muster up the courage to volunteer for a mission that almost undeniably meant certain death. "The rest of you? Find Aizawa and tell him to evacuate everyone to a safe house. And if you find All Might, kick him in the fucking balls and lock him in a broom closet until I get back."
His face made it abundantly clear that he wasn't joking.
"And the rest of you?" Hawks continued. His voice dropped an octave, fingers mindlessly reaching for the scars that ran up and down his back, concealed by shiny, golden feathers that had once been soaked oh-so-consistently in crimson red. It had been a long time since he'd been...' home.' "You're all coming with me."
xxx
"Kaminari." Scarlet Killer approached him slowly, eyes boring into Kaminari's skull. The name slid like venom off her tongue, a declaration and a curse all at once. She smiled, canines sharpened to fangs that the blond had no doubt could pierce skin. "Oh, I've missed you."
Kaminari exhaled sharply, trying desperately to ignore the perspiration beading on his brow. His feet felt heavy, rooted to the ground, hands frozen by his side at the image of that vile woman, that diabolical villain, his fucking mother approaching him. It'd been almost three years since he'd seen her up close. Her dark hair, once so long and sleek, was chopped sloppily to her shoulders, leaving frayed edges and split ends in its wake. Her skin was darker than when he'd last seen her. He guessed with her own personal assassin gone, she'd had to actually come up to the surface and kill whoever she wanted to be killed herself. After all, they didn't get a lot of sun in the underground, regardless of whether any villain was bold enough to roam freely during the day.
But that was the extent of the changes. Her nails were still long, sharpened to a point as she drummed them ominously against the cold stone walls of the corridor, leaving white, flaky scratches in their wake. Her expression could be described as nothing less than bloodthirsty, all the possibilities of what she could do with her son now back in her slimy clutches no doubt running through her head. And her eyes were less cruel nor no less full of pure, unbridled hatred than the last time Kaminari had stared into them.
"My boy!" she exclaimed, but her words were lacking in affection. They were more like sneers, mocking him, insulting him. He wasn't their boy. He was their boy—a possession—something they owned, something they believed they had the right to do anything they wanted with.
The thought made Kaminari sick.
"Don't call me that," Kaminari muttered, and no sooner did the words leave his mouth, one long, sharp, perfectly manicured nail swiped across his neck, leaving a thin yet immediate trail of beaded blood in its wake.
Against Kaminari's better judgment, he flinched, stiffening almost violently at the contact as his mother regarded him with crazy, crazy eyes and a sick, twisted smile.
"Aww." She cooed. Her words were dripping with venom. She stalked ever closer, and Kaminari had no doubt that had it not been for the gun that was still being held at the square of his back, his instincts would've forced him to turn tail and run. But that was ridiculous, right? Denki Kaminari didn't run.
Yes, he did. So long as his parents were involved, Kaminari had been running his entire life.
"You think you're so big and strong." Scarlet Killer purred. She placed a hand on his shoulder, right over his still-bleeding bullet wound, and squeezed, lips parting into a smile that could only be described as animalistic as she saw Kaminari's eyelashes flutter. "But you know you'll always come running home to mommy and daddy."
Before Kaminari could react, the woman plunged her nails into the poorly bandaged gash, uncaring as her black talons immediately turned crimson and her pale, bony fingers stained with beading blood. The blond inhaled sharply, not so much from the pain but from the pure unpredictability of his mother's movements.
The thing he hated most of all about his parents, above even the most brutal of torture that they put him through, was that Kaminari had never been able to read them like he could everyone else.
That was what made them so dangerous. At any given moment, Kaminari had no idea what their next move would be. And that scared him more than he liked to admit.
"Ah!" After nearly fifteen seconds of rummaging around in Kaminari's fucking skin, the exclamation was a welcome break from the sick sound of wet squelching and copious amounts of blood dripping oh-so steadily on the stone floor. Scarlet Killer smiled in a way that could almost be described as triumphant if not for the maniacal laugh bubbling up in her throat. She all but ripped her fingers out of Kaminari's flesh wound, sending blood pouring down his arm as pale skin was immediately stained red.
Kaminari grimaced at the sudden cascade of crimson, fighting the urge to stop the bleeding himself by using his electricity to cauterize the wound, only because he knew he would be shot dead the second it even looked like he was about to do anything funny. Kaminari pursed his lips, staring daggers at his mother and father, the latter of which still had yet to emerge from the shadows.
She didn't...the psycho bitch-
"See!" Balanced perfectly between Scarlet Killer's once-black nails sat one large, mangled, and (frankly) gruesome-looking bloodstained bullet. And, having been relieved of its job of keeping most of Kaminari's blood in his body, there was now nothing to stop the blond from bleeding out where he stood as copious amounts of blood splattered unpleasantly to the floor. "That wasn't so hard, was it? All you needed was your mother to help you out a little!"
Kaminari said nothing. His gaze was cold, eyes hardened and mouth set into a firm line, but it didn't matter. As infuriating as it was that Kaminari had never been able to read his parents, it was equally as frustrating that his parents had always been able to read him. It didn't matter what façade he put on or what confident expression he plastered clumsily to his face; Kaminari was terrified of Scarlet Killer and Live Wire. And they knew it.
They reveled in it.
"Still such a scaredy cat," Scarlet Killer purred. She toed absentmindedly at the blood pooling on the floor, lips twisting in disgust as the crimson began to stain her boots, clicking her tongue disapprovingly, mockingly. "And such a mess, too. I thought we raised you better than that."
'You didn't raise me at all,' Kaminari wanted to yell, wanted to scream, but he couldn't. It was as if someone had stuffed cotton in his throat, stealing his words from his lips before he could even think to utter them. He was hardly breathing, eyes trained solely on his parents as he analyzed their every move, watching, waiting in anticipation for their next blow, the next inevitable cut of a knife against his skin.
He was paralyzed. With how much he'd grown over the past two years at UA, some small, stupid, idiotic part of him had actually believed that the taste of freedom, the taste of a normal teenage life, would somehow trump the icy cold terror that never failed to grip his heart at the mere mention of his parents' names.
When he'd agreed to go with Headmistress, Kaminari had known that he'd practically signed his death warrant. For all his bad grades and abysmal standardized testing, he wasn't a complete and total doofus, no matter how vehemently his brain told him otherwise. He knew that after causing so much trouble for the League of Villains, after leaving two of the most feared villains of the underworld without their precious assassin at their beck and call, after depriving those sick fucks of the plaything that was his body, mind, and soul, it was unlikely he'd come back to UA alive.
But there had been hope, if even just a bit, that his time away from home had changed things. It wasn't as if Kaminari expected to stroll into the underground and magically work up the courage to slaughter everyone on site, but...he hadn't expected his heart to give out so quickly at the mere sight of his wretched parents with knives in their hands and cruel, sadistic smile plastered on their horribly disfigured faces.
A punch. A hard one.
Kaminari suddenly became acutely aware that he was now facing to the right instead of staring straight ahead, the sound of knuckles connecting with his cheek registering in his brain far faster than the awful throbbing that undoubtedly would have accompanied the blow had he been anyone else.
"Are you listening?" Suddenly, the tip of a knife was digging into the underside of Kaminari's chin, and the blond wished, god he wished, that he could control the stray tear that leaked from the corner of his eye despite his best efforts. He knew something like this was coming; obviously, something like this was coming, but why was he so...scared?
He knew why. Kaminari knew what came next. The feeling of cold metal latched around his hands, stringing him up like a pig to the slaughter, always tightened until the blond's wrists were nothing more than shattered remains, and blood trickled down his arms and pooled at his feet. A gun to his head, a bullet loaded into the chamber, and the trigger pulled once, twice, three times in a sick game of Russian roulette that, by some miracle, Kaminari had yet to lose. A maniacal laugh, a blade in his chest, fingernails raking down his neck, whips and chains and drills and poison and fire and-
"You're crying?" Kaminari heard the incredulous words through muffled ears, disdain dripping from his mother's mouth like venom. She pressed the knife harder into the blond's skin as he swallowed thickly, sending a weak stream of blood trickling down his Adam's apple, mixing with the tears that had begun to flow steadily despite his best efforts. He just. Couldn't. Do it. "You really are a whiny little bitch, aren't you?"
Kaminari didn't respond, simply staring at the ceiling through cloudy eyes and absolutely hating himself for allowing nearly three years of self-improvement and training and...whatever to become completely undone by one stupid fucking woman with a knife in her hand.
Why couldn't he fight back? He was Golden, for fuck's sake. He'd taken down stronger people than them when he was seven. He could leap into action, take whatever they threw at him, and slice their necks in two...
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he?
"You're so fucking pathetic," Scarlet Killer murmured hatefully after it became clear that Kaminari wasn't going to respond. Her eyes were brutal and unforgiving as she regarded her son like a piece of gum on the bottom of her shoe. In one deft, practiced motion, she swung the knife out from Kaminari's chin and lodged it in his thigh, twisting the handle for no other reason than to hear the squelching of blood as the blade grazed bone, lips twisting into a horrible sneer at the way Kaminari's eyes squeezed shut, sending two more tears trailing down his face in tandem. "Hold that for me, will you?"
"Now, now, dear," Came a gravely muttered voice rough from disuse. Kaminari tensed instinctively, some buried, primal part of him preparing for the blow that would inevitably follow that wretched tone, though none came. "We still have use for our son. We can't exactly have him bleeding out on us so soon, can we?"
"Hm." Scarlet Killer huffed, sounding deceptively petulant for someone capable of such violent bursts of anger. Kaminari had always hated that. For all intents and purposes, his parents talked to each other as if they were a regular married couple, but when addressing their own flesh and blood, they had nothing more to offer than cruel words and even crueler actions. "If he bleeds to death, so be it. I hardly wish to associate with one so weak."
Livewire's lips twisted into a sneer, looking as dark and horrible as the day Kaminari left. "I understand, darling, but remember. We still have use for him."
Despite himself, Kaminari mustered an airy laugh, weak and pathetic, and was immediately cut off by a backhand across the face.
"Something funny?" Scarlet Killer hissed, fingers moving to force Kaminari forward, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks. The blond grimaced as the action forced the knife in his thigh to grate against bone, an action that didn't go unpunished by his father, who took the opportunity to unsheathe a dagger of his own and make a clean, deep strike across his other leg. "Do you care to share?"
Kaminari inhaled sharply at Livewire's actions, and immediately hated himself for doing so at the way a sick smile graced his disgrace of a father's face. He was feeling woozy now, and the blood pooling at his feet was becoming far too expansive for his liking.
Without the bullet acting as a buffer, Kaminari's arm wound had yet to stop gushing. His neck was decorated with nicks from Scarlet Killer's knife that hadn't been deep yet were still bleeding steadily. Then, of course, there was the matter of his legs. The knife was stabbed through the fabric of his pants. As a result, his entire upper thigh was entirely soaked in crimson, so much so that Kaminari could feel trickles of red start to trail down his calves and pool at his ankles.
"You useless piece of shit." Scarlet Killer's voice roused him from the depths of his mind, the tantalizing, paralyzing fear that gripped him whenever he heard that particular tone clearing the fog that was beginning to accumulate behind his eyes with every passing splatter of blood. "Can't even answer a simple question?"
A punch. A hard one, one that sent Kaminari stumbling backward and tumbling to his knees, embarrassingly, right at Headmistress's feet. In all the commotion, he'd honestly forgotten she was even there, but now he was hard-pressed to forget as the sharp end of her stiletto took to digging into the wound on his leg as if by instinct.
Kaminari groaned, suddenly feeling unbearably heavy as the faces of the three people he hated most in the world leered down at him, sneers of varying cruelty decorating their blood-splattered faces.
"I was laughing," He began slowly, fighting to push down the bile threatening to rise in his throat as his instincts screamed at him not to taunt his parents, screamed at him that any amount of insolence would surely result in his death. "I was laughing because what use could you have for me?"
Kaminari swallowed, hoping to punctuate his mockery with a grin, but it turned into a strangled yelp the moment it crossed his face as Headmistress's stiletto broke skin. Still, whether he was simply too weak to care, stronger than he thought, or if some small, cowardly part of him was hoping that someone would put him out of his misery should he continue running his mouth, he somehow continued on.
"And I say that because how could you have use for me if I will never fucking help you again in a million fucking years?"
Silence.
And then…
Livewire laughed, deep and booming and so fucking awful it felt like a sucker punch to Kaminari's gut. All his breath was stolen from his lungs in an instant, sheer, primal panic finally winning out and clouding his vision until his entire world was made up of nothing but his father's cruel, horrible, evil smile and pitch black creeping into the edges of his vision.
"Do you think we don't know that, child?" The last word was a taunt, spit out like it was something disdainful, reminding Kaminari that they knew precisely who they were torturing. A child. And they didn't care. "After your lucky little escape, we don't intend to let you leave this compound again. At least…not until we get some collateral."
Kaminari's world returned to focus all at once, every part of him screaming at his father's thinly veiled threat because…
"Collateral?"
The words were nothing more than a terrified whisper.
"I think one of your little friends from UA would do nicely, no?" Livewire continued as if he hadn't spoken, eyes dilating with pleasure as Kaminari began visibly spasming under the Headmistress's heel. "Oh, I can just imagine it. We keep them under lock and key and threaten to strike them for every job done sloppily. That would make you so efficient, wouldn't you agree?"
"Please." Kaminari had no idea what he was begging for, no idea what the alternative was, but words tumbled from his lips in sudden, amplified desperation. "Please, no. Anything but that, I'm begging you. You said you'd leave them out of this. You said if I came, then they'd be safe-"
"I said no such thing," Livewire countered sharply, but he allowed his sick fantasies to dwindle off, and Kaminari could've cried. "But it's not our first priority. Too much hassle. Though if one happens to come through…"
"They won't," Kaminari said immediately, shaking his head the best he could as another wave of nausea tore through his stomach. "After everything they heard, they…" He swallowed thickly, cotton and blood coating the inside of his throat. "...they probably want me dead. They won't come."
It was almost terrifying how resolutely Kaminari found himself uttering those words.
"Good." Livewire said. He crouched down to the floor, fingers reaching to tangle themselves in Kaminari's matted hair before he pulled, forcing the boy's neck off the ground and locking their eyes together in a stalemate.
Kaminari could only groan in protest, an unwilling tear escaping the corner of his eye.
"In that case, you'll stay." Live Wire's grin was wicked. "You'll be our little test dummy. You must understand. Without you here, our knives have gotten so dull over the years. Someone needs to help sharpen them again, wouldn't you agree?"
Kaminari could only nod, scalp burning as his father refused to give any leeway. If this was the alternative to his parents going after one of his friends, he'd take it. He'd take it a thousand times over. Hell, if they asked him, he'd beg for it.
"So agreeable," Scarlet Killer purred from above. Kaminari could only groan as Live Wire released the grip on his hair, letting the blond crumble to the floor, uncaring of the way his skull slammed against the pavement. "But we can't exactly have you bleeding out before then. So…"
With a snap of his fingers, Kaminari heard a struggle from somewhere near the back of the building, and was somewhat alarmed to find that he couldn't even muster the strength to lift his head up and take a look.
Clearly, though, it wasn't necessary because as achingly familiar indignant muttering reached his ears, he suddenly wished nothing more than to be anywhere but pinned under the Headmistress's stiletto.
A pair of steel-toed boots reached the edges of his vision, and Kaminari could only smiley pitifully at the figure before him.
"Kaminari…" Dabi's breathy realization could've knocked the wind out of him. Golden eyes raised ever so slightly to meet blown blue ones, emotions flickering across the former's face with breathtaking speed. "You're…here. How are you-"
"Dabi." Livewire's voice was cold. Unforgiving. "We didn't bring you here to make small talk."
"Yeah…" Faintly, Kaminari could feel a pair of rough, bruising hands hauling him to his feet and forcing him to brace himself on a nearby wall. His eyes, half-lidded, rose to examine Dabi, who was slowly backing away from the blond with a unique mixture of fear and rage pulling and twisting at his scars. "I didn't sign up for this. The deal's off. I'm not doing this to- Christ, how is he even-"
"Boy." The word was low. Threatening.
"It's okay," The words were out before Kaminari could stop himself. Unforgiving nausea gripped him as bile rose in his throat, but he pushed it down. "Whatever it is, it's fine. Do it."
"No." Dabi shook his head vehemently, and Kaminari could comfortably say he'd never seen his friend look as rattled as he did now. The shock of seeing Kaminari's face in this place after over two long years manifested itself in Dabi's wide, frazzled eyes and fists shaking with barely contained rage, rage that would get him killed if Livewire or Scarlet Killer cared to pick up on it. "I'm not- I can't do that to you. I won't."
He spun on his heel to face Kaminari's parents, glaring at the pair venomously. "You never said it would be him."
"Didn't I?" Scarlet Killer stepped forward, fingers coming to tickle delicately at a blade tossed carelessly on a nearby table. Kaminari nearly buckled over at the force he threw himself forward.
"Don't." It was a desperate, pathetic plea, but it was all Kaminari had. He forced himself to make eye contact with Dabi, who was looking at him in a way that would've shattered him had the circumstances not been so dire. "Dabi will do it. Whatever it is, I can take it. It's fine. Do it."
Dabi stood silent, but his eyes begged Kaminari to take it back.
"He has been hired to cauterize your wounds," Livewire supplied with a sneer. "That fire of his is impressive. He's the only one who can possibly hope to fully seal wounds of your size."
"See?" Kaminari didn't give himself time to gawk at his parents' barbarity. "It's fine. It's a good thing. If my wounds aren't cauterized, I'll die!"
Dabi flinched so discreetly that Kaminari would've missed it if he were anyone else, but even with the fog clouding his mind, it was unmistakable.
"Do it," He continued, and he only hoped his demand sounded resolute enough to convince his friend. He wouldn't let Dabi make an enemy of his parents. He wouldn't. Not when he knew what they were capable of. "I'm asking you. I'm begging you. Do it."
Slowly, oh so slowly, Dabi put his hand on Kaminari's shoulder. Blood pooled out between fingers, undoubtedly trailing underneath his staples and staining the sensitive skin behind it, but Dabi seemed to pay no mind. Instead, his eyes bore holes into Kaminari's, holding apologies, promises, and prayers all at once.
"I'm so sorry," He whispered.
And as blue flames ignited, enveloping his whole arm in white-hot, searing heat, Kaminari's foggy mind, sluggish limbs, and exhausted body forced out of him a sound that he'd never heard himself make before.
Kaminari screamed, loud and raspy and anguished.
Dabi turned his head away, shoulders shaking in a horribly, horribly vulnerable display, as something clear dripped from the villain's face and mixed with the puddle of blood he was standing in.
And somewhere not so far away, a group of teenagers ran faster.