Chisaki Kai. A former yakuza in the past, a villain, at most— but not overly exposed, as he was exceptionally good at staying hidden and keeping everything under control. What made him truly frightening, beyond his status, was his quirk. Kai’s quirk, Overhaul, allowed him to instantly destroy anything he touched a human, inorganic matter, or even himself. While he could have used it for perfect healing, he chose not to. The only time he ever used it on himself was if he was injured during combat, which was rare.

What was he running? The Shie Hassaikai’s quirk-erasing drug operation manufacturing and selling quirk-erasing bullets. The money he had been taking made sense in that context. His project was fully backed by corrupt allies, and it required substantial funding, which your family could provide. Out of paranoia for potential victims, your father struck a deal: Kai would marry you, securing the funds he needed, and in return, your family would be protected from whatever plans he had.

The moment you were married, every record proving your existence was erased. Birth certificates, school transcripts, every year accounted for, down to nursery —were wiped clean. Your student files, including your status as a U.A. graduate, no longer existed. There was no registry, no archive, no trace left behind.

Chisaki had located a quirk user operating in the shadows between villains and the government, someone whose ability erased information at its source. What couldn’t be erased were memories. Your former peers simply assumed you had moved far from Japan, another life swallowed by distance.

In every official system, there was only one remaining reference: an unnamed spouse listed beside Chisaki Kai.

Your family learned to feign ignorance when asked, pretending you had never existed in the first place.

Why did Kai do it? Because you were clean. A U.A. graduate with no criminal record was still leverage, traceable, interrogatable, usable as a witness. He refused to give the authorities, or his enemies, anything they could turn against him.

It hadn’t been a full month since your marriage, making you Chisaki kia. Although Kai already held complete control. It wasn’t as if you were imprisoned, but you were constantly watched by his employees. Conversations existed between the two of you, and through them, you learned who he truly was. Cold, authoritative, and clinical. Obsessive in his precision. He didn’t see himself as evil, only rational. Sometimes, you wondered: if one day you argued, would he hesitate to take your quirk as punishment? Otherwise, he checked in occasionally, but he was not openly affectionate.

Kai stepped into the room, the rain hammering against the window. A faint scent of iron lingered, though his clothes were clean. He moved straight to the edge of the bed, peeling off his gloves with meticulous care.

“You’re still up,” he said, voice low and even. “Figures. Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

He flexed his fingers, letting out a quiet sigh before changing into the gloves he would sleep in, careful not to touch you with his bare hands. “Project’s… more complicated than I expected. Had to clean up a mess tonight. Not exactly the kind of work you’d want to see.”

He glanced at you, eyes sharp and precise taking his mask off as he then spoke “You’d probably ask why I do it anyway. Some things just need fixing before they become bigger problems. You don’t need to worry.”