Kirishima

The scent of burnt popcorn hung heavy in the air, a testament to another rushed dinner. Being a pro hero and a single dad wasn't exactly the dynamic duo I'd imagined when Y/N and I first started our family. Now, she was stateside, chasing villains with more stars on their flag, and I was here, trying to raise three kids, each with enough quirks to power a small city.

It had been almost seven years since Y/N left. Elli, bless her heart, barely remembers her. Enzo just pretends he doesn't miss her, burying himself in training to control his quirk, and Eliza… Eliza had become a puzzle wrapped in denim and angst.

Eliza. My oldest, sixteen going on seventeen, with a heart as strong as the stones she could conjure. She's always been a little…different. I remember when she was little, she'd build these elaborate rock cities in the backyard, meticulously placing each pebble. Now, she was building walls around herself that even my hardening quirk couldn't penetrate.

I'd noticed the changes slowly creeping in. The looser clothes, the way she'd avoid looking in the mirror, the increasingly cropped hairstyles—each one becoming shorter and more angular. At first, I chalked it up to teenage rebellion, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was going on.

Then came the night I found her in her room with Kai.

Kai. Denki's kid. Fifteen years old, a miniature lightning bolt buzzing with restless energy. He and Eliza had been inseparable since kindergarten. I trusted him implicitly. But seeing him there, on Eliza's bed, his arm around her trembling shoulders, sent a jolt of something unfamiliar through me.

Eliza was clutching a pair of scissors, her long, dark hair hacked off in uneven chunks. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the choppy edges of her new 'do. Kai was whispering something I couldn't quite make out, his expression a mixture of concern and fierce loyalty.

I stood frozen in the hallway, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. I debated barging in, but something held me back. An instinct, maybe. A realization that Eliza needed Kai, needed a friend who got it.

So, I retreated, leaving the burnt popcorn to its fate and calling my mom. She's always been the voice of reason in our family, the calm in my chaotic storm.

"Eijiro, darling," she said, her voice warm and familiar. "Just listen. Don't react. Let her talk. And most importantly, let her be."

Her words were simple, yet profound. It was a lesson I needed to remember, not just as a parent, but as a hero.

I waited until I heard Kai leave, a quiet murmur of goodbyes and a lingering sense of unease. Then, I knocked softly on Eliza's door.

"Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "Can I come in?"

She mumbled a weak "Yeah," and I pushed the door open. The room was a mess of hair clippings and crumpled tissues. Eliza sat on the bed, staring at the stained carpet.

"Rough night?" I asked, sitting beside her.

She just shrugged, avoiding my gaze.

"Kai said you had a… haircut," I continued, gesturing weakly to the scattered strands.

Another shrug. Silence hung heavy in the air. I knew I had to break it.

"Eliza," I began, carefully choosing my words. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

The dam finally broke. The words came tumbling out in a torrent of tears and fragmented sentences.

"I…I don't feel like…me," she sobbed. "I hate my hair, my clothes, everything. It feels… wrong."

I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close. Letting her cry. When the sobs subsided, I spoke.

"Okay," I said, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. "Okay. I hear you. And I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you're feeling, I'm here."

That was the beginning of a journey. A journey of discovery, of understanding, of acceptance. Eliza, my strong, creative, stone-hearted Eliza, was coming into her own. And that meant accepting who she truly was, regardless of what that looked like.

The next few weeks were a blur of doctor's appointments, therapy sessions, and awkward conversations. Eliza started going by Eli. He wanted to fully transition and be seen as a boy. I stumbled over the pronouns at first, but I corrected myself every time, determined to get it right.

Then, things got… weird.

It started with small things. Missing items. Elli's favorite silk scarf disappearing from her room. Enzo's training dummy inexplicably hardening into solid steel, rendering it unusable. My hero costume, usually impeccable, developing tiny, almost imperceptible tears.

Initially, I dismissed it as coincidence. Kids lose things. Quirks malfunction. Costumes wear out. But the incidents kept piling up, each one more bizarre than the last.

One evening, I came home to find Elli in tears.

"My rock collection is gone!" she wailed, pointing to the empty shelf where she kept her prized specimens. "All of them! My smooth obsidian, my sparkly amethyst, even the funny-shaped one Eli gave me!"

That's when I knew something was seriously wrong. Elli's rock collection wasn't just a collection of stones; it was a piece of her, a manifestation of her quirk. Someone had taken it.

I gathered everyone in the living room. Eli, his face pale, Enzo, arms crossed, and Elli, still sniffling.

"Okay," I said, my voice firm. "Someone is messing with our stuff. Stealing things, altering things. And I need to know who."

Silence. Everyone avoided eye contact.

"I'm not mad," I continued. "I just want to understand. Is anyone here responsible for this?"

More silence. Until…Eli shifted uneasily.

"I… I saw something," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"Saw what?" I pressed.

"I saw Enzo… in Elli's room. Yesterday. He was holding her rock collection."

Enzo's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's a lie! I was training. You know that!"

"I saw you!" Eli insisted. "You were sneaking around. And you looked… angry."

The tension in the room was thicker than one of my hardened shields. Accusations flew back and forth. Eli accusing Enzo, Enzo vehemently denying it. Elli just cried harder.

I knew I needed to get to the bottom of this. But how? I couldn't just "interrogate" my own children. I needed a different approach. One that involved a bit of…hero work.

That night, after everyone was asleep (or pretending to be), I activated my hero training. I checked for the clues from all the kids room. After searching the room, I then finally decided to check Enzo's room when I found the missing rocks in his drawer. Also, I found missing material from my hero costume. It was all there but why?

I woke Enzo up and sat him down once again.

"Enzo, the rocks, the costumes, the scarf, it was you, wasn't it? But why?"

Enzo teared up, "Because, he changed and no one seems to notice. You just supported him. What about us. You forgot about giving us attention. I hate the direction he is going. I want you to have time for us as a family again. I am just really jealous of him"

It all made sense now. The missing items, the altered textures, the feeling of being neglected. It wasn't malice; it was desperation. Enzo was acting out, trying to get my attention, trying to hold onto the family we once were.

I sighed, pulling Enzo into a hug. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice full of regret. "I've been so focused on Eli that I haven't been there for you and Elli. That's not fair. You're right, we need to find time for each other. For all of us."

The next morning, I called everyone into the living room again. I had spent the night thinking about what I should say.

"Okay," I said. "I know who's been messing with things. It was Enzo."

Elli gasped. Eli just looked at Enzo with a mixture of anger and sadness.

"But," I continued, "I understand why he did it. He felt like I wasn't paying enough attention to him and Elli. And he's right. I haven't been. I'm sorry, Enzo. And I'm sorry, Elli. I promise to do better."

I looked at Eli. "And I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you're the problem. You're not. You're my son. And I love you."

The room was silent for a moment. Then, Elli ran over and hugged me tight. Eli followed suit. Even Enzo, his face still red with shame, managed a small smile.

The road ahead wouldn't be easy. There would be more challenges, more adjustments, more moments of uncertainty. But we would face them together, as a family. A family bound by stone, steel, and the unbreakable thread of love. And maybe, just maybe, that was the strongest quirk of all.