Chapter 22

The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, a stark contrast to the usual comforting aroma of my father's study. Kenji's practiced hands moved with a quiet efficiency, wrapping the gauze around the angry red burns that marred my dad's abdomen. My stomach churned with a bitter cocktail of guilt and fury. I should have been there. I should have reacted faster. Maybe if I hadn't gotten caught up in that street fight, he wouldn't be lying here, unconscious, his face pale against the dark wood of the floor.

"Anos?" Kenji's voice, gentle and grounding, pulled me from the dark spiral of my thoughts. His warm brown eyes, full of concern, met mine, reflected my own stress back at me tenfold. Mom would panic. Izuku… the thought of my little brother's reaction sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over me. It was all too much.

Kenji pushed a steaming mug into my hands, the coffee's warmth seeping into my chilled fingers. He sat beside me, his arm a comforting weight around my shoulders. "It's overwhelming, I know," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "But it will get better. For now, Hizashi can stay with me while he rests. You don't need to worry."

I nodded slowly, latching onto his words like a lifeline. We could tell Mom he was with a friend. It was a fragile lie, but it was better than the truth right now. "Go home, Anos," Kenji said, giving my shoulder a slight squeeze. "Get some rest. I've got him."

I hesitated, glancing back at my father, his prone form looking so fragile and vulnerable. The image of his pale face, his still body lying near his office desk, seared itself into my memory, a haunting picture I knew I would never forget. Never. Not now, not ever. My fists clenched. I would not forgive Endeavor for this. He'd gone too far.

I stormed out of the office where my father worked and towards home, my anger a simmering volcano. How could the number two hero do something like this? Was it because the hero rankings were coming up and my dad was closing in on his spot? Dad had worked hard, clawing his way up to number three, but still, that was no excuse. The injustice of it all tightened my chest and made my head pound.

I sighed, the throbbing in my temples mirroring the ache in my heart. I fumbled out my keys and unlocked the front door of our home, or rather, the mansion that my dad had surprised us with on their anniversary. He said it was for my mom, the love of his life. Her dream house, a modern masterpiece of white, gold, and vibrant green foliage. The interior was decorated with indoor plants, and outside, a series of indoor and outdoor pools. It had been a sweet gift, and Mom had cried like a child. Being with him was all she had ever wanted. She only wanted to be by his side. I hope to find love like that. A partner who sees me, who loves me for me.

It was just past 5:00 am and the house was quiet. Mom was likely still asleep. Izuku too. The maids were moving silently, their footsteps barely audible, while the guards stood watch, vigilant in their duty. Even now, Kenji was working behind the scenes, making sure we were safe. I appreciated it immensely.

I made my way upstairs to my room and collapsed onto my bed. The night, the chaos, the frantic battles, the gut-wrenching fear of losing my dad – it all swirled and collided in my tired mind. I'd been fighting villains one minute and staring down my father's injured body the next. Things were a mess.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my turbulent thoughts. It was Kenji. "Don't worry about school today, I called you in sick," his text read. "Rest up, then come talk to me."

I sighed and texted back "Sure," before tossing my phone on the bedside table. I dragged myself into the shower, the hot water washing away the grime and the fear of the night before. When I finally stepped out, refreshed, and laid back down in bed, I closed my eyes, hoping for oblivion.

But just as sleep began to pull me under, my phone rang again. It was Alex, my best friend, his voice booming through the speaker, "Dude, why aren't you at school? 

I sighed and lied, "I've got the flu."

He dramatically groaned about how boring school would be without me. I chuckled, his theatrics a welcome distraction. We said our goodbyes, and then, finally, blessedly, I was alone, and sleep came.