**Evening - Kaminari Household**
[Narihana Kaminari's POV]
"Where is he?!" Megumi demanded while her eyes scanning my living room like a predator searching for prey. "Where's Kaminari Denki?! I know he's hiding somewhere!"
I set down my coffee mug carefully, taking in Megumi's appearance with growing concern mixed with an inappropriate urge to laugh.
She was wearing one of the old hoodies, the ridiculous one with the Pikachu design on the front that she'd always liked.
But what caught my attention most were the small cuts and bandages on her hands and neck.
"Megumi-chan," I said, my maternal instincts overriding my amusement, "what happened? Did Denki do something to hurt you? Those injuries—"
"These?" Megumi touched one of the bandages on her neck, her expression softening slightly. "No, these aren't from Denki. These are from the girl I recently took in. She's... adjusting. It's fine, nothing serious."
'A girl she took in?' I filed that information away for later questioning. Megumi had always had a soft spot for strays—both animal and human.
"But that's not why I'm here!" Megumi's fury reignited as she turned her blazing gaze back to searching for my son. "Your genius son got his revenge on me! For showing everyone his Whey Mode video!"
I tried to maintain a neutral expression, but I could feel my lips twitching. "What exactly did he do?"
Megumi's face flushed an even deeper shade of red as she launched into her explanation, her words tumbling out in an increasingly frantic stream.
"He hacked into my mother's personal cloud drive! Somehow—I don't even know how—he bypassed all the security and got access to everything!" Her voice rose with each word. "Every embarrassing video of me from childhood! Every awkward phase! Every stupid thing I did as a teenager that my mother thought was 'cute' and worth recording!"
I pressed my lips together tightly, fighting back laughter.
"And then," Megumi continued, her voice taking on a tone of utter betrayal, "he sent all of it to my boyfriend! To Aki! To my close friends! Do you know how mortifying it is to have your boyfriend see you at age seven, crying because you couldn't find your favorite stuffed animal?! Or the video of me at twelve, trying to be 'cool' and falling off my bike into a pond?!"
This time I couldn't quite suppress the snort of laughter that escaped.
Megumi glared at me. "It's not funny, Narihana-san!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said, trying desperately to compose myself. "Please continue."
"That's not even the worst part!" Megumi pulled out her phone and shoved it in my face, showing me an image that made my eyes widen.
It was definitely Megumi—her face, her body proportions, her distinctive features. But she was wearing a bunny outfit, complete with ears and a fluffy tail. The kind of costume you'd see at a maid café or cosplay convention.
'Denki edited this,' I realized immediately, studying the image with a professional eye. 'It's actually pretty well done. If I didn't know better—'
Then I noticed the detail that made it obviously fake.
I looked at Megumi's chest. Then back at the image. Then at Megumi again.
"It's fake," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.
"I KNOW IT'S FAKE!" Megumi practically shrieked, "That's the emotional damage I'm suffering from! Even Aki could tell it was an edit with just one look! He took one look at the picture and said, 'The proportions are wrong.'"
She covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled and miserable.
"Everyone knows Denki likes big boobs. It's obvious from the way he edited this picture to make me look more... more... endowed than I actually am! I have average size! Perfectly normal, average size! And my boyfriend—my sweet, understanding boyfriend—had to tell me that he likes me even though I'm not... not..."
Her voice broke slightly.
"That was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life! Having my boyfriend reassure me about my chest size because your son decided to photoshop me into a busty bunny girl!"
I turned away quickly, my face contorting as I fought desperately not to laugh. My shoulders were shaking with suppressed mirth.
'Denki really went all out for this revenge,' I thought with a mixture of maternal pride and concern. 'This is... actually pretty clever. Emotionally devastating, but clever. He must have been planning this for months.'
I remembered the look on Denki's face every time someone mentioned the Whey Mode video—the carefully controlled expression that didn't quite hide the promise of future retribution in his eyes.
I took several deep breaths, composed my expression into something resembling sympathy rather than amusement, and walked to the kitchen.
I needed a moment.
Once safely out of sight, I let myself laugh—quietly, but hard enough that tears formed at the corners of my eyes. Then I grabbed a coffee mug, filled it with fresh brew, and took several long sips to calm myself.
When I returned to the living room, I had successfully schooled my features into professional neutrality.
"But Megumi-chan," I said in my most reasonable hero voice, "what evidence do you have that it was Denki who did this? Even if he had the motive and capability, do you have actual proof?"
'I mean, we all know it was definitely him,' I thought. 'But as his mother, I have a responsibility to protect my child. That's just basic parenting.'
Megumi's expression shifted from anger to utter betrayal, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Are you seriously—" She stopped, took a breath, and started again. "You're protecting him? You're choosing to support your own child over justice?! How can you call yourself a hero?!"
'Oh, sweetie,' I thought with sympathy. 'One day, if you have children of your own, you'll understand. The rules change when it's your kid. That's just how it works.'
But I couldn't say that out loud without sounding like a terrible hero, so I deflected.
"How's your work been going, by the way?" I asked brightly while taking another sip of coffee. "You mentioned you were working on something important?"
Megumi stared at me for a long moment, her expression clearly communicating that she knew exactly what I was doing but was choosing to let it slide.
Finally, she sighed in defeat, her shoulders slumping.
"Fine. Denki's not here anyway, so I'll get him later." She flopped down on my couch, suddenly looking exhausted. "And yeah, work's been... intense."
Her tone shifted from frustrated to professional, the change so smooth it was almost jarring.
"Being an undercover agent posing as a college student sucks," she said bluntly. "Do you know how hard it is to pretend to care about freshman composition essays and sorority drama when you're actually tracking Yakuza money laundering operations?"
'Right,' I remembered. 'Megumi works for the police force's undercover division. Her Quirk makes her perfect for intelligence gathering.'
Megumi's Quirk Transparency Field—she could create a field of invisibility around herself and anything she was touching. It only lasted for a short time and could only affect one or two objects at most, but it was still pretty useful.
For spy work, it was absolutely perfect.
"But I got the job done," Megumi continued, her voice carrying quiet pride. "Found detailed records of underground deals, shipment routes, money transfers. Everything the task force needs to coordinate a major raid on a Yakuza organization near Shizuoka."
"That's dangerous work," I said seriously, my maternal concern overriding my amusement about the earlier situation. "Are you being careful? Do you need backup? I can request—"
"It's not my job to be involved in the actual capture operations," Megumi interrupted, waving off my concern. "I just provide intelligence. Gather information, document evidence, pass it along to the heroes and police who do the raids. I stay well clear of the dangerous stuff."
'She says that,' I thought skeptically, 'but intelligence gathering in Yakuza operations is inherently dangerous. One wrong move, one person who sees through her Quirk, and she could disappear without a trace.'
But I didn't voice that concern. Megumi was a professional and she knew the risks.
Instead, I brought up something that had been weighing on my mind lately.
"Speaking of intelligence gathering," I said carefully, "what about the other investigation? The one involving the HPSC?"
The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted, becoming heavier, more serious.
The Hero Public Safety Commission—HPSC for short—was a secretive, government-affiliated organization that managed Japan's entire hero system. They oversaw hero licensing, maintained rankings, coordinated major operations, and wielded enormous political influence.
On paper, they were the administrative backbone that allowed hero society to function.
In practice? I'd been growing increasingly suspicious of them for the past year.
It had started with Denki, actually. My son had always been observant, always asking questions that made people uncomfortable. About three year ago, he'd started researching the HPSC—initially just curiosity about how the hero ranking system worked.
But then he'd noticed something odd.
Heroes who worked closely with the HPSC would sometimes suddenly "go rogue." Their behavior would change drastically, they'd commit crimes that seemed completely out of character, and they'd be labeled as villains almost immediately.
One or two cases like that? Maybe just coincidence. Bad luck. People snapping under pressure.
But Denki had found dozens of cases. A pattern that became impossible to ignore once you started looking for it.
He'd brought his findings to me and Megumi, and we'd started digging deeper. What we found disturbed us.
Even Edna—brilliant, rational, usually skeptical Edna—had looked at the data and said something that chilled me: "This looks like an organization grooming child assassins and using illegal black ops to preserve public faith in heroes. This is the dark side of hero society."
Megumi's expression had turned grim, her usual playfulness completely gone.
"Everything we suspected is true," she said quietly. "I've been gathering intel for years now, and it's worse than we thought. The HPSC isn't just corrupt—they're actively committing crimes and covering them up."
She pulled out her phone and showed me several encrypted files.
"Child soldiers trained from young ages. Heroes forced into black ops missions with no legal oversight. Assassination orders. Cover-ups of failed operations. And if a hero tries to leave or speak out..."
She didn't finish that sentence. She didn't need to.
"There's something else," Megumi said, her voice even quieter now. "Something that might hit closer to home for you specifically."
My stomach clenched with sudden dread. "What?"
"Your friend—Kaina Tsutsumi. Lady Nagant."
The name hit me like a physical blow. Kaina. My former colleague. One of the most skilled heroes I'd ever worked with, a woman with a Quirk that turned her arm into a literal sniper rifle and gave her accuracy that bordered on supernatural.
Ten years ago, she'd been arrested for murdering her partner—another hero—in cold blood. The evidence had been overwhelming. Witness testimony, forensic evidence, even her own partial confession.
She'd been sentenced to Tartarus, the maximum-security prison for the most dangerous villains.
I'd had doubts at the time. Kaina had always been intense, maybe sometimes cold, but never cruel. Never someone who would kill without reason.
But the evidence had been so clear. And I'd been too busy, too overwhelmed with my own work and family, to dig deeper.
'I should have investigated more,' I thought with guilt twisting in my stomach. 'I should have questioned it. She was my friend, and I just... accepted the official story.'
"Megumi," I said, my voice tight, "what did you find?"
"The partner she supposedly murdered was previous head of HPSC," Megumi said bluntly. "She's been trained to be thier assasin, she carried many operations and when Tsutsumi-san had been ordered to carry out a black ops assassination mission that she refused to complete. The target was a hero who'd discovered evidence of HPSC corruption and was planning to go public."
My hands clenched into fists, electricity beginning to spark involuntarily across my knuckles.
"She refused the kill order," Megumi continued, "so they eliminated her. Framed her for murdering her hero partner, discredited her completely, locked her in Tartarus where she can't talk to anyone."
"Can we get her out?" I asked immediately. "Can we prove—"
"I'm working on it," Megumi interrupted. "But it's complicated. The evidence is buried deep, and going after the HPSC directly is incredibly dangerous. They have connections everywhere—government, hero agencies, media. One wrong move and we end up like Tsutsumi-san. Or worse."
She met my eyes seriously. "But yes, I'm working on it. Building a case. Gathering evidence that can't be ignored or suppressed. It's going to take time, but I will find a way to help Tsutsumi-san."
I took a deep breath, forcing my anger into something more controlled and useful.
"Thank you, Megumi-chan. Keep me updated on any developments. And be careful. If the HPSC realizes you're investigating them—"
"They won't," Megumi said with quiet confidence. "That's what my Quirk is for. I'm very good at not being noticed."
We talked for a while longer about various topics—lighter things, to ease the heavy atmosphere. Megumi mentioned the blonde girl she'd taken in recently, showing me a picture of someone around Denki's age with distinctive features.
"She's got an interesting Quirk," Megumi said vaguely. "And particular tastes. Denki actually helped me track her down after we saw an advertisement about a middle school girl who'd killed a boy and gone into hiding."
My eyebrows rose. "That sounds dangerous. Why did Denki want to help?"
"He said someone like her needed guidance before she went down a darker path," Megumi explained. "Though interestingly, he didn't want to meet her directly. Just helped me find her and then... stepped back. Let me handle the actual interaction."
'That's unusually cautious of him,' I thought. 'Denki usually wants to involve himself directly when he thinks he can help someone.'
"The girl's shown interest in my intelligence work," Megumi added. "She's smart, observant. Could be useful in the future if she develops properly."
After discussing a few more things—mostly mundane updates about mutual friends and hero work—Megumi finally left, though not before vowing dramatically that she would get revenge on Denki eventually.
I watched her go with a mixture of amusement and concern.
'That girl is going to be trouble for my son,' I thought. 'But probably the fun kind of trouble.'
After she left, I settled back on my couch and did something I'd never admit to anyone under threat of death, I turned on my streaming service and continued watching Naruto.
'This is professional research,' I told myself firmly as the opening theme started playing. 'I'm studying combat techniques and tactical applications that I can adapt for my hero work. This is absolutely not just for entertainment.'
The fact that I'd already filled three notebooks with "Lightning Style Jutsu" adaptations for my Quirk was completely irrelevant.
'Denki was onto something when he showed me this series,' I admitted, watching the main character use creative ninja techniques. 'There are genuinely good ideas here for electrical combat applications.'
The next episode auto-played, and I settled in with my coffee, telling myself this was definitely productive use of my time.
....
**The Next Day - U.A. High School**
[Denki's POV ]
Yesterday, I'd returned home late after hanging out with Mina, Eijiro, and Momo—an enjoyable afternoon of getting to know our new classmate better while strategically staying away from home during the initial explosion of Megumi-nee's discovery.
When I finally did arrive, Mom had been waiting for me with an expression that tried to be stern but couldn't quite hide her amusement.
"Megumi-chan came looking for you," she'd said with her arms crossed. "She was very upset about something you allegedly did to her."
"Allegedly," I'd repeated with a grin. "That's a strong word implying lack of evidence."
"Denki-kun..."
"Did she have proof it was me?" I'd asked innocently.
Mom had tried to maintain her disapproving expression, but I could see her lips twitching.
Then I'd pulled out my phone and shown her the collection of "cute" pictures I'd discovered during my digital infiltration of Megumi-nee's life—carefully curated images that were embarrassing but not cruel. Megumi at various ages doing adorable things, making funny faces, caught in those candid moments that were mortifying but ultimately harmless.
Mom had looked at the pictures, then at me, then back at the pictures.
"I'm making sure not to mention sending these to anyone," she'd said carefully, but I'd watched her fingers already moving to make copies.
'She's definitely going to share them,' I'd thought with satisfaction. 'Probably with Edna and her hero friends. Megumi-nee's revenge humiliation is going to be legendary.'
Serves her right for recording my Whey Mode and showing it to everyone.
I'd gone to bed with a satisfied smirk, already imagining Megumi-nee's face when she realized the photos had spread further than just her immediate circle.
Now, sitting in Class 1-A's homeroom waiting for afternoon classes to begin, I couldn't help but let out a dark chuckle as I remembered the whole situation.
"Denki, cut it out," Mina said from her desk nearby, making a face. "Your villain laugh is creeping everyone out."
"I don't have a villain laugh," I protested. "This is my normal laugh."
"That's somehow worse," Eijiro added helpfully.
Around me, several classmates had gathered, apparently having decided that I was the designated "Quirk training consultant" after yesterday's impromptu advice session.
'I've created a monster,' I thought with resignation. 'Now everyone thinks I have all the answers.'
Currently, I was explaining an idea to Hagakure Toru—the invisible girl whose only visible features were her uniform and accessories.
"Your Quirk bends light around your body, right?" I said, pulling out a small laser pointer I'd brought specifically for this demonstration. "That's not just invisibility—that's light manipulation. Which means, theoretically, you could do more than just hide."
I gestured for her to come closer, then walked to the other side of the classroom and beckoned to another student.
"Aoyama-kun, could you come here for a moment?"
Yuga Aoyama practically sparkled as he walked over, his blonde hair catching the light dramatically.
'This guy's entire existence is a JoJo reference,' I thought with amusement.
I know he's a spy—and I can use him to lure the League of Villains out and eliminate them during the USJ arc. Until then… have fun, my friend.
"Let me introduce everyone to a potential combat application," I announced to the growing crowd of interested students. "Aoyama-kun's Quirk allows him to shoot lasers in a straight line from his naval laser. It's powerful but predictable—enemies can dodge if they see it coming."
I turned to address Hagakure directly.
"But if you used your light refraction abilities to bend his laser beam mid-flight? Suddenly that straight-line attack becomes unpredictable. The enemy thinks they're safe, they dodge in what should be the right direction, and then—surprise—the laser curves and hits them anyway."
The classroom erupted in excited chatter.
"That's so cool!"
"Like trick shots in billiards!"
"We could combine Quirks?!"
"There's more," I continued, warming to my topic. "Aoyama-kun, your laser produces a specific wavelength of light, right? If we could get Hagakure-san to refract that specific wavelength in a controlled way while it passes through her body—essentially using herself as a living prism—we might be able to make her visible to herself. You'd finally be able to see your own reflection."
Hagakure gasped—at least, I assumed she gasped based on the floating uniform suddenly jumping.
"Really?! I could see myself?!"
"Theoretically," I cautioned. "It would take a lot of practice and precise control. But the physics supports the possibility."
"I'll practice every day!" Hagakure declared with passionate enthusiasm. "Aoyama-kun, will you help me?"
"But of course, mon ami!" Aoyama struck a pose, somehow producing a sparkle effect despite being indoors. "Together, we shall shine brilliantly!"
'These two are going to either become an incredible team or accidentally blind everyone in a ten-meter radius,' I thought. 'Possibly both.'
More students approached with questions about their Quirks, and I found myself falling into an impromptu consulting session that lasted until the warning bell for afternoon classes.
'At least it's good practice for teaching,' I reasoned. 'If I'm going to be helping people improve, I should get used to explaining concepts clearly.'
The morning academic classes passed in their usual blur—Japanese literature, mathematics, English, history. Standard high school curriculum, though delivered by teachers who occasionally used hero work examples in their lessons.
Finally, finally, the lunch period ended and we returned to our classroom for the afternoon Hero Course.
The real reason we'd all come to U.A. I leaned back in my protagonist seat by the window, feeling anticipation building in my chest.
I thought. 'The next phase and the actual hero training begins today.'
The students around me were clearly feeling the same energy—excited chatter, nervous fidgeting, people adjusting their uniforms as if preparing for something important.
Then I heard a voice from outside the classroom, loud and unmistakable and absolutely dramatic, "COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!!"
The door burst open—not slid, not opened normally, but burst as if kicked by someone with superhuman strength.
All Might entered in his signature fashion, his massive frame filling the doorway, his blonde hair defying gravity in those ridiculous antenna-tufts, his smile so wide it seemed physically impossible.
The classroom exploded with excitement.
"ALL MIGHT!"
"HE'S REALLY HERE!"
"SO COOL!"
Even students who'd been trying to play it cool—Todoroki, Bakugo, even usually composed Momo—had their eyes wide with awe.