Archive of Our Own

It wasn't supposed to end up like this.

They were supposed to be training, honing their quirks to be the best they could possibly be.

Yet here they were, standing in front of a dark forest, about to complete the ’training exercise’ that Aizawa had just pulled out of his ass.

“I don’t know about this...”

It’s dark.

The forest around them was, say to the least, shady as hell, something straight out of a horror move- the kind where, whenever someone goes out to investigate, they get killed.

She’s never liked horror movies- never liked the feeling of her heart pounding out of get chest as she looked around, danger very well lurking around her, poised and ready to strike.

She’s never liked jump scares or anything scary- because being caught off guard has never been something she’s been fond of(as shown by how she clutched on to Momo whenever the class got together to watch horror movies. She has no clue how the other girl can just sit through it).

It’s silent, the kind of silence that weighs heavy, pressing down on you, constricting your every attempt at breath.

She hears the soft chirping of the crickets around her, their lullaby normally pretty, but now its undeniably creepy, their noise filling up the silence; getting louder and louder with each step into the dense forest.

“Well, I think this is exciting!”

There’s rustling from next to her, and Jirou’s heart nearly leaps out of her chest when she feels a cold hand clap on her shoulder.

The worst part of this was, besides the whole ‘getting scared by class 1-B’ kind of thing, She could barely even see her partner.

Don’t get her wrong- she loved Hagakure, but sometimes having a partner whose quirk made her seem ghostlike was not fun! Especially in this setting!

Hagakure seemed happy, as least, taking her time to look through the forests at a leisurely pace. She had told her that she wasn't a fan of scary stuff either, but she certainly didn’t seem scared, skipping ahead of her, humming the tune of an anime opening that she didn’t bother remembering the name of.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. This wasn’t fun at all. She’d rather be scared by 1-B now and then be able to go back to the cabins.

“You think everything is exciting,” she pointed out, trying her best to keep up with the other girl’s quick steps.

“I mean, yeah,” Hagakure turned around, walking backward as she spoke, “but that’s what being a hero is about, right? Going with the thrill!” With that, she turned back around, skipping ahead once again.

Jirou sighed, continuing her quick steps. For someone who seemed kind of hesitant when this whole thing started, she sure as hell was excited now.

It wasn’t long before Hagakure stopped skipping, and Jirou thought it was to let her catch up. But before she could hurry to the other girl’s side, she spoke:

“What is that?”

The sky was no longer clear. Instead, a thin layer of white fog seemed to be covering it, hiding the stars beneath.

“It’s probably one of the 1-B kids..”

She hates the way her voice quivers at that, because she doesn’t remember any 1-B kid having a quirk like that- but, maybe she just missed out on that information! This has to be a part of this whole exercise.

“L-Let’s just keep going.”

They continue to follow the path, and Jirou felt like her heart was going to leapt out of her chest every time a twig snapped under their feet. Hagakure had stopped humming, coming back to all at her side instead of skipping ahead. Even the bubbly girl seemed to be on edge.

“This fog is so thick,” Hagakure whines, and the fog in front of her face seemed to disperse, as if she was fanning out away from her mouth, “Where did it come from? Is this another test?”

It was oddly silent other than them. The crickets had stopped chirping, there were no owl calls, no rustling of the undergrowth around them..

Something was wrong.

“Be quiet for a sec, okay?”

Jirou knelt down, plugging in her jacks to the ground, crouching low, eyes closed, as she listened.

It’s silent other than the sound of racing footsteps- far too many, as if a bunch of people were running for their lives.

She ignored the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, listening harder, to see if there was something else she could be looking for- something else that said: “Shit, maybe we should be running too.”

A scream.

It wasn’t the kind of scream that was from shock- no, that was a scream of terror, of fear, of pain.

Her eyes snapped open. She was jumping back up, detaching her earphone jack from the ground,

“Shit- we have to get out of here!”

She reached out, grabbing what she thought was Hagakure’s hand and ran, ignoring the other girls surprised shout as she pulls them through the undergrowth.

“What’s going on?!” Hagakure coughed, her voice muffled as she covered her mouth from the thickening fog, “did you hear something?”

“Footsteps,” she breathed out, running faster, “People were running.”

“Are you sure that’s a bad thing? Can’t they just be scared?” She hears the hesitation in Hagakure’s voice, and she knows that the invisible girl isn’t stupid enough not to be cautious- hopeful, yes, but not stupid.

The sound of the scream echoes through her mind, and shit, she knows damn well that something was wrong.

“No one in our class would run just because of a jump scare,” she looks around, staring at where she thought Hagakure’s face might be, and for a second, she could have sworn she saw her eyes- shocked, scared.

And, of course, that’s when she tripped over something.

“Aaaa!”

She tumbled down the hill, losing her grip on Hagakure as she slid, tossing as turning as she struggled to regain her footing.

The smoke was thick, and she felt lightheaded. It was like she was coughing up water while her lungs falter to gulp down as much air as possible.

It feels like forever for her to stop falling, but when she does, she shakily stands back up, stumbling on the uneven ground beneath her.

Her head is spinning, either from the vertigo from the fall or the gas- she isn’t sure. But she doesn’t like feeling like this.

From above her, black smoke is billowing into the sky, mixing with the gas, turning the sky a milky shade of grey.

Fire..

Her knees shook from where he stood, but she couldn’t find it in herself to run. She’s never been a leader, but she’s never been a follower either. She’s stuck in the middle, torn in two; the feeling of his heart racing is pure adrenaline. Her head was pounding, his heart echoing in her ears, each quick and fluttering pound beating down on her.

No, she had to do something.

She was supposed to be a hero, right?

“Hagakure!” She yells, taking a step closer to the mist, covering her mouth with her free hand as she searched for her friend.

Blue shirt, blue shirt! She gritted her teeth, eyes watering as the fog began to burn them. She couldn’t see anything. Shit.

The thing about having a quirk that allows you to locate based on sound, is that it does jack shit when someone is unconscious.

She’s wrapped up in the mist, and she’s hit with a feeling of nostalgia- USJ, when she, Momo, and Denki were separated from the others- when they were forced to fight for their lives.

When Kaminari nearly died because they had their guard down.

Shit, she scans the undergrowth, looking for any sign of her friend. She gags, choking on the gas, her feee hand covering her mouth as she searches through the undergrowth.

Hagakure was silent, which either meant she succumbed to the gas or was far away enough that she couldn’t hear her. Neither were good.

She didn’t want to be alone.

A flash of blue flashed across her vision, and she sighed in relief. With her eyes watering, she crouched down on the ground, next to Hagakure’s unconscious form. The smog wasn’t as thick down here, but she could still feel the effects of it- her vision swam, and she had to hold her arms out in front of her in order not to topple over.

The gas had knocked Hagakure out- but she was breathing, which was something she noted with a sigh of relief.

She wasn’t strong enough to move Hagakure on her own, but there was no way she could just.. leave her there.

Ugh, think! What can I do?

She pulled the top of Hagakure’s shirt over her mouth, so at least the gas wouldn’t hurt her quite as much.

She followed suit, trying to ignore how weak she felt- how the world around her was spinning even though she wasn’t moving at all.

This was definitely some sort of planned attack. The teachers would’ve pulled the ‘sike’ card by now. They would’ve helped them clean this up- they wouldn’t have left them alone like this unless they had no other choice.

I guess we’re on our own for now

She plugged an earphone jack into the ground, pulling Hagakure into her lap as she did so.

Footsteps. Heavy, uneven footsteps. And they were coming closer.

She’s choking, choking on not only the gas- but her fear and self doubt. She holds Hagakure closer to her, not willing to let her go even if it meant that they’ll both go down.

Go down? What is she thinking. She’s going to fight them off. They’re in the top class of 1-A; they’ve fought of villains before- and she sure as well do it again.

Even though she might be alone this time.

She’s dizzy, her head feeling lighter than ever and maybe it’s the gases fault, but she can see the shadow of someone coming closer to her-

A flash of yellow, black clothing.

That idiot, always so bright even through the dark spots clouding her vision.

“Jamming-whey!” She shouts, “you idiot, over here!” She breaks out into a fit of coughs, the gas rushing into her lungs. This can’t be good- her vision swims, her heart seems to stop in her chest- but no- she can’t stop fighting, not here- not when help was so close-

“Jirou?” The shadow stops, and she has to bite back a sigh of relief when she hears the voice- the one the came from the boy that sat next to her and annoyed her to no end.

There’s something wrong. Even with the dark spots clouding her vision, she can see the splashes of red that had soaked into his clothes, she could see the acid-caused-burn marks scattered across his arms. She could see the strands of tape dangling off the back of his clothing.

Why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be in the extra lessons building? Sero, Mina, Kirishima, Satou.. Where were they?

She hugs Hagakure closer to her chest, unable to do much else as the gas begins to take effect. Her legs feel like jello, she can barely keep her eyes open.

Yet he’s here. Fine. Not affected by the gas at all.

How?

He leans down and smiles at her- not that soft, boyish smile that she had come to know- the one that appeared whenever he was about to say something particularly stupid- no, this was a cold smile, something like a shit-eating grin. It was unsettling.

It wasn’t right.

He doesn’t ask her if she’s okay, doesn’t make sure that she’s uninsured. No, he reaches for the girl in her arms, hands splayed and electricity crackling in between each of his fingers.

She squints her eyes at the bright light, but doesn’t give in, clutching Hagakure closer to her (admittedly small) chest.

“Move your hand, Jirou.” His eyes are cold as he looks down on her, not the bright amber that was usually filled with warmth.

“What are you doing?” Her voice falters, and she hopes she sounds stronger than she feels. She’s glaring at him, because, honestly, what’s going on? He better have a good reason for this, or he’s going to get one of her earphone jacks stabbed right up his as-

“Kaminari, what’s your status?”

“Shigaraki,” there’s a buzzing noise, as if he’s talking into a walkie talkie, “another two over here. Nah, just two of the girls. It’ll be easy. Kirishima and the others put up more of a fight,” he sounds sad when he says the name, but his eyes are cold, staring straight at her when he says that.

“You better get it done quick. We have to be out by sunrise.”

“What?” she responds, voice on the verge of breaking. But she’s perfected the art of keeping her face flat and her voice neutral. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t. She can’t.

“What the fuck is going on, Kaminari?” Her voice is quiet this time as she watched him click the button on his earpiece.

He turns back to her, that unsettling smile still on his face, “It’s been like this all along. I’m surprised you of all people haven’t seen it, Jirou,” he laughs a bit, hand reaching out to cup her face, ignoring how she flinched away, “hacking the communications system at USJ, me trying to persuade y’all to not go after Bakugou, the whole ‘idiot’ thing.” He scoffs at the last word, looking down at his other hand, which still crackled with electricity.

“But still, I find that my biggest mistake was falling for you,” he sighs, hand falling from her cheek, “it’s a shame that I’ve always been fond of a girl that could kick my ass.”

Her heart stops in her chest at those words. He liked her? What? He liked her back?

She thinks back to the classmate she had come to know- the boy that sat next to her in class. The one that always (indiscreetly) asked her for answers, the one that always invited himself to walk her home, the one that stuck by her side like glue whenever he wasn’t hanging out with his ‘bros’.

The boy that she fell for.

But this isn’t him. This Kaminari- no, this guy was a monster. This wasn’t the boy she fell for.

That boy was a lie.

Feeling anger course through her veins, she shoved him back, “What are you thinking? Do you really think that that’ll win me over? Now? Look around us, Kaminari,” she threw a hand up to the burning trees around them, the gas still thick and heavy in the sky, “you did this. You did this and I can’t believe it.” She’s shaking, Hagakure still in her arms as she looks at his face, cold and impassive.

This can’t be happening. It can’t be.

He looks shocked at her sudden confidence, and sighs. “You know what? You should’ve never become a hero,” it’s all too sudden- he’s grabbing her by the throat, pulling her up and away from Hagakure’s still form, ignoring her choked scream as his grip tightens, “maybe then, everything could’ve been different.”

Somehow, he had become the boy of her dreams had become the boy of her nightmares.

“See you in another life, Kyouka.”

All too quickly, the hand around her throat crackles with electricity. Electricity zaps through her, making her scream as she felt all her muscles lock up in place.

And, after that, as her last breath escaped from her lungs, everything went dark.

-

When she awoke, she could hear nothing but the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears.

Her heartbeat, something that powered her quirk, something she blasted out to the world yet kept so hidden, was reverbrating through her mind, pounding harder and harder and harder.

She’s sweating, and the aching in her chest only seemed stronger, more prominent, accompanying the feeling of her heart against her ribcage, her breath coming out in short pants, her hands trembling.

Most of the details of her nightmare were hazy the moment she awoke, but there was one remnant clinging to her consciousness, making her all too aware.

She was choking.

Kyouka found herself shaking- arms wrapping around herself as she tried to suppress the shivers that wracked her body. It was like an abrupt punch; a wave of emotions running over her and tearing at her insides until she couldn’t breathe.

God, she could barely even remember the dream, yet here she was- this stifling feeling that kept rising up was one she didn’t like. It was defensive, cold- making her want to clamp all her emotions shut and keep to herself. That’s what she's always done- kept to herself, so why the hell is it so hard to do it now?

You should’ve never become a hero

Damn, she’s usually the person who ignores stuff like that, ignoring the ignorance of others without a bat of an eye. Now, she’s here, lowkey close to crying, all because of a stupid dream.

What the hell was going on? Why was she like this?

She might not remember the dream very well, but she remembered who was in it- who said such things, who was there and did nothing- yet too much.

Kaminari

Now, the loneliness was overwhelming. It was uncomfortable, weighing down on her, as if her nightmares somehow found a way to make her room all the more stifling.

She stretched a hand towards her desk, searching until deft fingers landed on the rectangular shape of her phone.

She squinted as light assaulted her vision, sighing when the words: 2:57am registered in her mind. She groaned, turning over in her bed and shoving her face into her pillow. It was too early for this shit, but there was no way in hell that, after her nightmare, the forefront of cold fear nearly surging back at the thought, she would get back to sleep.

She sighs, tossing the pillow clenched between her arms to the side as she sat up, sliding out from underneath the covers. She hurried out of the room, deftly stepping over some of her band equipment that had somehow fallen on the floor.

She didn't like the way the shadows seemed to move, they way that they seemed to be watching her.

She shuddered. She really did not like the dark- especially after that weirdass dream.

She closes the door behind her with a sigh, hand coming to lightly hold her jacks as she leans against the cool wooden frame.

There’s no sign of life on the female section of the floor; Hagakure’s door is closed and, with the absence of any light coming out from underneath it, shows that she’s probably sleeping, like any normal person should be at this hour.

She padded down the hallway, her feet making a gentle tapping noise with each step. She hopes that she doesn’t wake up Shouji, as he’s the only other person in the dorms who could possibly hear her, but, then again, he’s on the 4th floor. If he can sleep through having both Bakugou and Kirishima as floor mates, then she’s sure it’ll be fine.

She’s never liked the dark- she’s never liked the way that it can confuse you, the way the shadows can twist and bend if you’d stare for too long, the way that just about anything could

That’s why she’s relied on her above average hearing and her quirk her whole life- because your eyes can deceive you.

She steps into the common section of their floor, where both the boys and girls areas merge into one. She hears Iida’s snoring from inside his room, which is something that everyone has complained about at least one. Bever to his face though, as he would probably write an essay regarding a formal apology.
No hate, she loved Iida, but he could be a tad bit uptight at times.

She still walking, smiling as she's able to identify each of her classmates doors. There's Iida’s plain brown one (he didn't want to break the rules and change it), there's Hagakures pink one, there's her own purple one, there’s Koda’s one, decorated with pictures of animals, there’s Ojiro’s plain one, saying nothing more than his name..

Yet, She found herself outside of his door- the stupid yellow one with tacky lightning bolt stickers that always managed to catch her attention.

She doesn't know why she cares, doesn't know how this idiot managed to get her so worked up all the time. Maybe it was his stupid jokes, maybe it was his goofy smile, maybe it was because he tried so hard, even if he tried to play it off with a fake smile and a thumbs up. Maybe it was because he was so much deeper than other people saw. Maybe it was because he was.. well, Kaminari.

She’d scoffed at the idea because there was no way she’d ever come to Jamming-Whey’s dorm for comfort. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Jeez, she’s making it sound like she’s a stalker or something. She shakes her head, taking a step away from the door.

That’s when she heard it.

There was a noise, a muffled one, as if someone was trying to suppress something. There was a crash that followed, as if someone had fallen.

What the hell? She turns back to the door, muscles tensed as she listened for more sounds. The muffled sounds continued, but the crashing ceased. Maybe he rolled off the bed or something. Maybe he pushed one of his many Knick-knacks into the floor. It wouldn’t be above him, considering he’s done it before.

But, that muffled sound was new. Was it his video games? He always forgot to turn them off whenever he decided to crash in the common room.

Could he be in trouble?

After Kamino and the whole ‘Yakuza’ thing, everyone was on their top guard. As a hero, you have to be prepared for when shit went down and, she hates to admit it, but she would hate for him to get hurt.

Idiot or not, he’s still her friend.

Just in case, she told herself, jacks poised and ready to strike, just in case her frien- just in case Kaminari was in danger.

She plugged them into the wall, careful not to blast her heartbeat out to the boy that always managed to make it pick up it’s pace.

The sounds were clearer now, much clearer. It wasn’t crashing of any sort; it was choppy, as if subdued.

Wait..

Was that crying?

What the hell was she thinking again? She’d come over here and now Kaminari was letting her into his room. So what if he did that with everyone – it was just… Confrontational. People could get the wrong idea.

Especially if he wasn’t crying, and was intentionally trying to muffle his voice because... Well, she felt her face heat up at the thought.

You know what, she sucked in her pride, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that assaulted her when the signal in her mind shouting: warning, warning, warning.

Screw it

She knocked on the door.

She heard the crying from inside the room cease. There were footsteps, muffled due to the door that separated them.

Hesitant really wasn't the right word to describe Kaminari. He's always out there, animated, too loud for his own good.

But now, as the wooden door, the only thing separating the two, opened, she glanced up at him to see him looking at her with an expression that she hadn’t seen him wear before; his eyes were gentle, and his mouth was sober and pressed in a thin line.

There were tears in his eyes.

”Jirou?” his voice is quiet as he peers at her through the crack.

Okay, this was weird. It’s 3am, it’s dark as hell outside- they should be sleeping. But she’s here, facing off against a sad Denki Kaminari.

And she had no idea what the hell she was doing.

She’s like Midoriya, in that sense, acting first and rarely thinking of the outcome. Or, well, it’s sometimes the opposite, thinking too much about the outcome but never quite sure how to go about it.

(At least she doesn’t break her arms every other day)

Right now, she had no clue which of those times it was. God, she was tired.

”That’s me, genius, ”Her words are a tad bit drier than usual, but they lacked their usual teasing bite.

”Look, if you're here to tease me like usual, then just,” he takes a deep breath, as if he doesn't want to say the next words, ”then just leave.”

He doesn't want to be alone.

All the time that she’s known him, Kaminari was either A. Doing some dumb shit B. Hanging off someone or C. Doing a mixture of both.

So yeah, she knew damn well that he hated being alone. Especially when she was laying far too close attention to him, seeing the sad pout he gives whenever Bakugou pushes Kaminari’s legs off of his lap (on the rare occasions that he lets it happen), seeing the defeated look in his eyes whenever the Mina and Kirishima leave him behind, seeing the slight pout on his lips as he sulks.

She’s not a stalker. It’s just that she’s always been observant- Right? And it’s not like any of the ‘bakusquad’ members are.. discreet about literally anything they do.

She breaks out of her thoughts when she heard a sniffle, nearly cut out by the creaking of the door closing.

Quickly, she pushes her hand against the door, stopping it from closing.

“Hey, Kaminari,” she doesn’t know what she cares, why she’s even doing this. Maybe it’s because she hates seeing people sad- maybe it’s because she’s frustrated that she can’t usually do more than just.. be there. “are you okay?”

She doesn’t even know why she’s thinking so hard about this. Well, she does- that little voice at the back of her mind highkey screaming at her to finally make her move. But haha, feelings? Don’t know her.

“Yeah, why?”

She knew his smile was fake. It really wasn’t that hard to tell, given that there were tears dripping down his cheeks as well.

She looked at him- the ‘I don’t believe you’ look in her eyes probably all too clear, for the small smile that has settled on his face dropped immediately.

He stepped away from the door, letting her step into his room.

It was messy, as per usual, but so incredibly like Kaminari that she had to fight rolling her eyes. No- it isn’t the time to critique his room (even though the skateboard rack he had was.. a bit excessive).

After nearly stepping on one of his textbooks, she sat down on the corner of his bed, waiting for him to sit beside her.

She didn’t know if it was impressive or not that he was able to step through the mess without looking down at the floor.

They sat in silence for a moment, basking in each other’s presence. For once, Kaminari wasn’t speaking. For as long as she knew him, Kaminari had been incapable of shutting up. He was always there, cracking a joke- saying stupid stuff- but he was always there, always doing it to make people happy.

She hated that she found it cute.

But now, as he dejectedly looked down at his open palms, she decided that silence wasn’t a good look for him.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

“Since when did you become a therapist?” He joked, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She doesn’t fight back like she usually does, only crossing her arms over her chest as she looked back at him, ignoring the twinge in her chest at how defeated he seemed.

Without a response, he seemed to deflate, almost as if having relied on banter in order to stop himself from talking about this.

“I don’t really like it, you know; people laughing at me.” he paused, voice shaky as he looked at his hands. He’s looked at them so often that he’s memorized each and every little lightning shaped scar that littered their surfaces; he used to call them his lightning veins and, with lightning legitimately coursing through his body, the title wouldn’t be far off; he used to think they were cool but...

Now, he hated them.

He sighed, picking at the already scarred skin of his hands, each and every scar and vein looking like little lightning bolts.

”Hey,” Jirou said, reaching out and gently pulling his nails away from his skin, ”don’t do that.”

He’s never had a filter- never had a reason to second guess himself, so thats why she’s so surprised by the sudden onslaught of words.

He's all too aware of the sparks that are bubbling underneath his skin as she touches him, he’s all too aware of the fact that someone’s here- that he isn't alone.

He's all too aware of the cold when she pulls away.

He's touchy feely but so touch starved. He wants to reach out, he wants to feel so badly, but everything is out of his reach.

Jirou is out of his reach.

”I'm scared, scared that there will be a time when I can't come out of it,” he sighs, running a hand through his blond locks, ”I'm still there when I'm like that, you know? But I'm nothing more than a voice at the back of my mind- something that can't be heard.” Kaminari looks up, eyes wide, and Jirou realizes just how tired he looks. With the culture festival coming up, they've stayed up all night trying to perfect their scales, sure, but this was a different kind of tired- a hopeless one.

He sighed, head resting on his palm as he looked out towards his open window. “I sometimes dream about it- what it would have been like if I had actually gotten killed back there.”

USJ

The words flash in her mind as she realize just what he’s talking about. When villain with the electric quirk got a hold of him- and if it weren’t for Snipe..

Golden eyes met her own, their amber depths threatening to pull her in. “But, there’s no use dwelling on the past, am I right?” he laughs, but it’s a sad one, the kind that came with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, the kind that sounded off- the kind the sounded broken.

”I feel myself slipping away, Jirou.” he whispers, hands finding her own. ”I don't know what to do.”

“Kaminari..” Honestly, she’s at a loss for words. She’s never been good at comforting people- she’s never been the one to comfort people. She hides behind playful insults and violence- not that sunshine type of thing that Kirishima has going on for him. She cares, she really does, but she just doesn’t know what to do.

She’s used to listening, used to staying on the sidelines while the main action plays out in front of her. But now, she needs to make a decision. 

She reaches out to him. It wasn't anything big, the simple gesture of placing her hand on his arm was nothing compared to the way Kirishima and Sero threw their arms around his shoulders in a way of saying, ’we’re in this together’, nothing compared to the way that Bakugou sometimes shoved his hand into his face in a way of saying: ’you're being stupid, but I'm stuck with you anyway.’ nothing compared to the way Mina pretty much matched on to him, as if saying, ‘you’re stuck with me’, and you're going to appreciate it.’

This was nothing like that, a simple touch, meaning nothing more than to comfort-

It did nothing more than say ’hey, I'm here’ and, honestly, he was glad for that.

Maybe a bit too glad.

“Ow!”

Her hand feels like it’s on fire: shocked, tingling- burning. He quickly pulls away, hands burying into his pockets as he quickly tries to stifle the electricity flying from them.

It took seconds, but now she’s here, hand tingling and twitching, while he’s looking more hurt than ever.

“Shit, I’m sorry!”

There’s a current in the air that she hadn’t noticed before; it’s blazing, buzzing, surrounding her. It was like a heat that she couldn’t shake off, encasing her limbs with no hope of it cooling down. With him by her side, her hand lingering just above his arm, it was like ‘pins and needles’ was in the air- the kind of white noise that filtered itself through the ground whenever she plugged her earphone jack in.

The blaze was stifling.

“I need to get out of here,” He stands up, hands rubbing at his eyes as his feet slide onto his rug. The air is stifling. “I’m probably going to hang out in the common room for a while,” he looks back at her, and Jirou can see the utter hopelessness in his eyes.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know. I’ll be okay in my own.” Okay, first of all, no, he would clearly not be okay. As much as she despises knowing him enough that she could tell that that’s true- she wouldn’t just leave the idiot like this.

She couldn’t- she was a hero, someone who was there to comfort people in times of distress, someone who was there as a pillar for the society- a symbol of hope.

What’s the use of becoming a hero if you can’t even do something like this?

Her hand might still be tingling, but it’s the least she could do for him.. The least she could do for her friend.

She scoffs at the comment, sliding off his bed as well, following in his footsteps as to not kick any of the items scattered across his messy floor.

“Look, You’re being more of an idiot than usual. I’m not gonna leave you; We’re friends, and I wouldn’t be a very good one if I left you when you were like this.” She gestures at him, but doesn’t meet his eyes. She tries to ignore the conflict written all over his face, as if he’s confused about how she’s actually going to react to the whole situation.

Honestly, she doesn’t know much else other than the fact that there was no way in hell she was going to leave him.

She does give him mixed signals, which is something that she does feel kinda bad for but.. well, she doesn’t really know how to act around him besides throwing out insults.

“Now, come on,” She tugs at his sleeve, pulling him further down the hallway, “You want to get out of here, don’t you? let’s raid the kitchen.”

-

The walk down to the Kitchen was quiet, nothing more than the sound of their footsteps as they made their way down the stairs. They were side by side, their arms nearly brushing as they took to the dark stairway slowly, as not to trip.

Jirou suppressed a shudder as darkness swallowed her vision, the dark stairway nothing like the lit up hallways. It was a bit unnerving, but, hey, at least she wasn’t alone.

Great, now she was depending on him.

“Scared?” There’s a glint in his eyes, the more mischievous shine that she had come to know.

The door slams shut behind them, and he yelps, eyes widening as he jumps forward, clearly caught by surprise.

“You’re one to talk,” she grins as she watches him stick his tongue out at her, looking almost childlike as they continue down the stairs.

She holds on to the railing as she steps down, never more than one or two steps behind him.

Embarrassing as it is, she finds herself trying to keep up with him. Damn short legs. They make life so difficult.

It doesn’t take long for them to get to the bottom, seeing as they were only on the 3rd floor.

The fact that they wanted to get the hell out of there helped too.

As they got to the bottom, Jirou stifled a sigh of relief as she saw the light pooling in from under the door.

Kaminari pushed open the stairwell door, narrowing his eyes as the light assaulted his vision. He held it open as he stepped into the common area, hand resting above her head on the smooth wood.

“M’lady,” he says, keeping the door open for her as he walked through it.

“Wow, seems as though chilavry isn’t dead,” she rolls her eyes, stepping into the lit hallway a tad too quickly. She narrows her eyes as she entered the common room, scanning the area to see if anyone else was down there.

Thankfully, the usually bustling common room was quiet.

But, the tv was on, the lights flickering across the screen rapidly.

Wait a minute, Jirou squinted, eyes growing accustomed to the sudden bright light, is that Mario kart? It seemed as though whoever was playing left midgame, as the characters were still racing cross the screen.

Huh, strange. It’s not uncommon though.

They’ve only been in the dorms for 4 months, yet she’s seen so much.

She’s stumbled across her classmates passed out in the common area more times than she could count.

She’s seen far too much. She’s seen the way Bakugou had snuggled up to Kirishima that one time, his arms wrapped around the redheads torso while his face was buried into his neck. She’s seen the way that Dark Shadow is up and about even when Tokoyami is asleep(Walking out there in the middle of the night and seeing a shadow move is terrifying). She’s seen (or rather, heard) the way Midoriya talks in his sleep, usually muttering something about All Might(It’s freaky at this point, and, honestly, she’s starting to believe that Todoroki ‘lovechild’ conspiracy theory is right).

She’s seen a lot, not as much as Hagakure has, but a lot.

No one does anything about it though, usually choosing to snap a photo of the occasion (Mina still has to send her the picture of Kirishima and Bakugou cuddling) or throw a blanket over them before returning to their own thing.

Overall, she feels bad for whoever has to pay the cable bill.

She sighs, turning away from the television. She heads over to the counter, leaning against it as she watches Kaminari do his thing.

He’s oddly quiet as he reaches out to the fridge, pulling it open and squinting his eyes as the bright light glares into his eyes.

”Someone left the tv on,” she muses, nodding her head back to where the tv remained on, the colors still flashing as the music hummed in the background. She never has been one for small talk, but it seems so odd that he's so quiet. It seems wrong.

”Huh?” he's still out of it, eyes glossy as he blinks back toward the tv. He grins as he sees the familiar game flash across the screen. ”Oh, Sero probably forgot about it. Heh, he hasn’t beat me yet!”

Words being said, he turned back and continued to search around the fridge, muttering about his “win streak”.

After those words, Jirou swears she heard a scoff. She turned around, looking by the television. There was nothing there, only the light illuminating the darkness. Huh, the nightmare must really be getting to her.

“Yes!” She turns back around when she heard Kaminari’s little victory yell, clutching a wholeass gallon of milk in his hands as he basically lugs it out of the fridge. “I found it!”

She raised an eyebrow, “Milk?”

“Yeah, want some?” She reaches forwards and swats his hand away from the milk as he goes to drink it straight from the container, the heathen. Whose milk is that anyways? Let’s hope it’s not Bakugou’s. Last time he caught Kaminari taking some of his food, it ended up with a broken tv, a hole in the third floor, and a singed couch.

She shook her head, grimacing at the thought of being under Bakugou’s wrath. Good thing he’s on their side.

Hopefully, anyway. She thinks that they’re chill- probably. They had the whole ‘band’ thing going on. He trusts her, at least.

How he felt about Kaminari, on the other hand..

“Hell no,” she crossed her arms over her chest, “that stuff is disgusting.”

He only shrugs, sticking his tongue out at her as he turned around and reached up into the cupboard, something that she couldn’t reach, much to her chagrin. She raised an eyebrow as he pulled out two glasses instead of one, not liking where this was going.

“What!” He pours the milk into two glasses, not seeming to get the hint. “Warm milk helps a lot, dude, and I clearly have two glasses, which is one more than me.”

”Wow, didn't know you were so good at math.”

“It’s one of my stronger subjects,” a balant lie(she had seen his score on their most recent math test and BOY- she was impressed by how he somehow managed to get a single point. Like really, his score was a literal ‘1’), but his yellow eyes are sparkling as he doesn’t hear another denial. He’s smiling again- that’s good.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she turns around, not wanting him to see her when she feels her face heat up again for literally no reason.

This idiot...

She freezes as she feels his arms snake around her waist, pulling her close to him.

“Come onn~” He whined, resting his chin on the top of her head- something he was able to do because DAMN she’s short and oh shit he’s touching her what the hell was going on- Why was he so intent on this?

Oh no, her face was not- could not be as red as it felt. She’s glad that he can’t see her while his face is resting on top of her head- and wow what the hell is going on.

She flushes, then holds a jack over his eye menacingly. When did he get that close to her? “I will stab you,” she says through her clenched teeth.

“If it means I’ll get you to drink it, then it’s worth!”

....big mistake.

“Ow, What was that for?” He jumped back, rubbing at his arm as he pulls away from her. Yikes.

“What’s your face for?” God, it’s such a shitty argument, but it’s 3am, and her tired mind can’t be bothered to care.

He sticks his tongue out at her as he stepped away, only to get a tired eyeroll in reply. ”Fine, but you're missing out.” he drinks the milk like it was a shot, knocking it back and gulping it down. She shuddered at the thought- warm milk is absolutely disgusting, and no one can tell her otherwise.

He slams the cup down on the table, tongue swiping across his lips as he does so. She swats his hand away as he reaches for the other glass.

Honestly, she doesn't know why she hates it so much. Maybe it's because she's so used to it that it just turned into something intolerable, something that she no longer wanted to resort to.

She's never liked nightmares, never liked the darkness, never liked being scared. She's never liked having to resort to other methods in times of terror, for she knew that, if she grabbed on to such things, she’d be left stranded and blind if it were to disppaear.

She'd been used to this feeling of emptiness all her life.

Huh, maybe that's why she closes herself off so much.

She's always been the one to stick it out, even if ’sticking it out’ meant hiding underneath your covers until the sun rose, until the demons within the dark receded back into their corners.

“It really does work though.”

He pushed himself onto the counter, sitting up there with his legs dangling off the side. He’s done it before, even though Iida always tells him to ‘hop off’(the poor dude still didn’t understand why everyone found that so funny).

She leaned against the same counter, arms crossed against her chest as she looked up at him. He still had that infuriating glass of milk in his hand, the bone hurting juice steaming due to it’s heat. Gross.

”How do you know for sure?” she’s staring at him, and she knows it. She hates how she notices the way his eyes shine when he thinks about it, hates that she notices the quirk of his lips as he pulls the half empty glass away from them.

Hates that she knows exactly what's coming next.

Kaminari pulls a face. The way he scrunches his nose is entirely too cute, but Jirou doesn’t let herself go there.

“Well, it’s like someone once told me, ‘how do you know what’s good for me,’” he paused, taking a sip of his milk.

Oh god, her eyes felt the need to roll out of her head; she saw that infuriating glint in his eyes, the one she knew popped up whenever he was about to say some dumb shit. It’s 3am. She didn’t have to have to be dealing with this.

The worst part is, she knew exactly what he was referencing.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s my opinion.”

Her eyes are trained on his face as she awaits his reaction. His eyes widened, and the shock(not the electrical kind, for once) was written all over his gaping face.

Then he snorted.

Kaminari Denki fucking snorted.

Milk flew everywhere, spilling back into his previously empty glass and its rim, spilling across his fingers and into the floor below, the white milk blending in with the white tiled floor.

Much like the angry Scottish lady on vine once said.

Disgustang.

Jesus Christ, she was going to have an aneurysm.

But she found herself laughing alongside him, arms wrapped around her stomach as she burst out into laughter.

His eyebrows are furrowed in an attempt to look mad, but as his arm pulls away from his mouth, she sees that infuriating smile of his once again, and she prays that the way her heart skipped a beat was because of an incoming heart attack- not because of anything else, anything feeling related. Hell no.

He tossed a rag on the floor, hand coming to wipe at his teary eyes as he kicked the cloth around on top of the spill.

“Damn, I knew you were smart, but I didn’t know that you, Kyouka Jirou, were an intellectual.”

She doesn’t chide him for using her first name, but she does roll her eyes at how incredibly stupid he sounded.

“Well, I thought you were redeemable, but it turns out you’re even more far gone than I thought.” She moves to the side as he kicked the milky rag at her, nearly shrieking because hell no, that’s gross. “Vine died, TikTok is where your kind is right now.”

“Aw, you thought I was redeemable? That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

He grabs the full cup from the counter, dumping it into the sink and turning away without washing it. Damn, get you a man like that.

“You’re not going to wash that?”

“Nope!”

Why the hell does she even try?

The lack of hesitation in his words was something she wasn’t sure to laugh or cry about. No wonder the sink is always full.

‘Lets a go!’

She jumps as the television let out a particularly loud noise- and Jesus Christ, was the Tv still on? Wasn’t there an automatic shut off time or something?

Apparently not.

Again, she felt bad for whoever had to pay the cable bill.

”Wanna play?” he cranes his neck towards the tv, which continued to loop the Mario kart ending scene, showing the scores of whoever was on it before them.

“No way,” she rolls her eyes, “it’s too late for that.”

”Why, scared you won't beat me?”

She punched his shoulder, smiling slightly as he laughs, ”Oh shut up. I'm not like Bakugou; I won't go off because of a stupid challenge.”

He grinned at that, and Jirou felt her breath hitch as the light from the tv lit up his smile just right, “Eh, it was worth a try.”

Snrt

She froze, pausing in the doorway of the kitchen. The television still shed light in the common room, encasing everything in its ghastly glow.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Kaminari paused from where he was putting his cup away, eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at her, “you heard something?”

She didn’t see anything- but her hearing has always been damn good. The living room was still empty, the tv illuminating the dark space.

He learned over her, and she hated the way her breathing hitched when she felt his shoulder brush over her own, “Hm, well I don’t see anything. It was probably one of the first floor guys getting busy upstairs,” he winked at her, laughing as she shoved him off. Mineta’s room was right above where they were standing, and oh hell no- she was not going to think of that little grape fucker tonight.

Kaminari laughed at her expression, the sheer disgust that twisted her normally pretty face being absolutely HILARIOUS to look at. Mineta was a bit much at times (though he’s still his bro), but he had no clue the girls hated him that much.

She looks back over the living room once again. She squinted to see the clock over the tv- 3:49am.

Jesus Christ, she needs to get some sleep. That’s probably what’s causing all this stuff.

Kaminari slid past her from where she was scanning over the living room, heading back towards the stairwell.

“You coming?”

She locked eyes with him, purple meeting gold. Normally, she’d decline, desparate to get away from the boy that made her mind feel like mush- the boy that made her heart twinge in a way that wasn’t quite unpleasant.

But, you know what? It might be the sleep deprivation talking, but tonight, she didn’t seem to mind all that much.

“Yeah,” she turned around, leaving the illuminated common area before her, “I’m coming.”

All that was left was the two unwashed cups in the sink.
_

“So, do you think that pictures are just real life screenshots?”

The lights are still on when they find their way back to Kaminari’s room. He doesn’t even need to ask her to stay as they both enter his room, Jirou pretty much collapsing on the edge of his bed with a groan.

“Can you please stop saying that?”

She’s glaring up at him from where she’s laying down, hair sprawled out underneath her as she rolls into her back. Messy or not, his bed was really comfy.

“But am I wrong?”

“Do I need to answer that?” She cradled one of his pillows to her chest, knowing what the dumb expression on his face was bound to look like as she unspokenly agreed with him.

They had gone back to his room right after the whole kitchen thing, Kaminari filling up the silence with stupid one liners that made her want to die. No, Kaminari, pigeons don’t have feelings. Little flying rats...

It was too late for her to be having an existential crisis.

“What time is it?” She peeks up from the pillow, purple eyes in no way watching him as he turns on his phone, watching as he smiled at his background (one of the whole class), and as he squints at the little white letters that told the time.

“Like, 3:57?”

“Oh jeez, We’re going to be so wrecked tomorrow,” She groans, burying her face into the pillow, “class is going to kill us.”

He rummaged around his stuff, meeting her glare with a sheepish smile as stray items nearly hit her in the face.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for you to get used to feeling dead all day, miss ‘number 7 in the class’.”

She rolls her eyes, nudging him over with her foot, “You fake, I’m already dead inside.”

She smiles a bit as she sees his face light up with laughter, yellow eyes sparkling as he rummages theough all his knick knacks.

“Fine, ‘Miss Tokoyami-wannabe’ would be an even better title.”

She chucked the pillow at him, ignoring his laughter. She wouldn’t call herself quite as edgy as Tokoyami, but she couldn’t deny that they shared similar interests (she had once caught him jamming out to MCR. It would’ve been a crime not to join in).

“Found it!”

He pulled out his guitar from underneath his pile of stuff. She would’ve had a stroke at how he was treating it, but at least he was kind enough to keep it in a case.

“That’s what you were looking for?” She raised an eyebrow, having expected something like.. actually, she didn’t know what she expected.

“Yeah! Nothing like having a jam session at 4 in the morning!”

“Have you ever had one?” She’s had plenty with her dad, until her mom found out and told them to save it for later. She loves her mom dearly, but she knows not to mess with her when she’s mad.

Huh, maybe that’s where she got it from.

“I mean, not really?” He shrugs, sitting down on the bed beside her, “I listen to the the tracks you sent me for the culture festival and all, but I don’t really know enough I get far.”

“All that at 4 in the morning?”

He smiled sheepishly, “That’s just how it be sometimes.”

Oh. The reason she was in his room in the first place flashed in her mind- his broken smile, sad eyes.. Yikes, it seemed like so long ago, but, in reality, it was only an hour or so ago.

But, he was really making an effort.

She hated the part of her that thought that she couldn’t depend on him, because, well, he really was trying. Maybe he wasn’t too great at it, but he was making more of an effort than she could’ve ever thought.

And jeez, she’s glad it was him who got to guitar spot instead of Mineta.

”But please, Jirou, sing for me!” She can see the stars in his eyes as he held out the guitar to her, face open and honest, nothing like the conflicted face he had shown her earlier, ”Think of it as practice or something!”

..What?

Ah yes, practicing for the culture festival. The late nights, the sore fingers, the overall pressure of it all has been absolute hell the past few weeks. But there he was, his fingers bandaged as he held out that guitar to her, the very same one she gave him at th he beginning. He’s still smiling, still wants her to do her best.

It’s a lot to take in.

Honestly, with the look he was giving her- the one with absolute faith, the absolutely stupid smile, his bright eyes, she's reminded of something Mina told her earlier.

-

”He’s your number 1 fan, you know.”

”What?”

Mina was pretty much hanging off of the couch, her legs thrown over and dangling off of the surface as she cranes her neck to look at Jirou, ”You heard me- my main man Kami is your biggest fan.”

All the girls were chilling in the common room, having a ladies night(all the boys were strictly banned. Besides Kirishima. Kirishima was chill).

“Oh yeah, he’s totally into you,” Hagakure blurted out , looking up from where she was painting Ochako’s nails. It was a weird sight to see, considering the paint seemed to just... appear out of nowhere. Not the point.

“So, what do you think?” Mina sat up, hands on Jirou’s shoulders as she looked into her eyes.

Mina has always had these piercing eyes- probably because they were all black, but goddamn, they were intimidating- especially when she had that look, the one that showed that she was plotting something.

”He’s not that bad,” Jirou blurts out, face flushing as she looked down. She stares at her hands, trying not to imagine the way his fingers would feel if he held them, if she would be able to feel the electricity bubbling up underneath his fingers. “He’s an idiot, sure, but he’s trying. Which I didn’t think was something he was capable of.”

She had no idea how it happened- how her view on the boy who looked like a discount Pikachu changed to, well, this. It was like one day the switch just flipped; she started laughing back at his stupid jokes, she started to see the intelligence that he had hidden under that goofy smile, and the thought of him getting hurt went from sad to unbearable.

She’d spent so long trying to avoid the truth, refusing to put her feelings into words. Well, it was going to happen eventually- but she didn’t expect it to be shoved in her face so soon.

Maybe it was when he encouraged her to sing for the culture festival, maybe it was the way he looked at her when she sang in front of the class.. maybe it was just.. him in general.

“Oh? Is that compassion I hear?” she refuses to look up as Mina turns toward her, rolling back onto her stomach. Mina had that look in her eyes again- the twinkle that they had all come to know. It was a sign of something, that she was plotting.

Really, this midnight heart to heart really showed her how layered Kaminari was. He wasn't just that idiot that happened to fry his brain on a daily basis- he was so much more than that.

Deep down, she knew that he was, she saw the way he cared for his friends, saw the way that he never faltered, even when his life was at stake. She saw the way he always turned to her with a smile and a stupid joke- knowing she hated it (she loved it), but always went out of his way anyway.

“Yeah, I know what’s up,” Mina paused, snapping her fingers. Jirou swore that those black eyes of hers were staring into her soul, and, honestly, she wouldn’t doubt it. “You really fell for him, didn’t you? You fell for Denki Kaminari.”

“Mina!”

-

She had denied it, had shaken her head and shoved her face into the pillow to hide her blush. She had wanted to deny it, that the guy she pretty much harassed on a daily basis had somehow warmed his way into her heart.

Yeah, somehow she had fallen in love with Denki Kaminari.

At least Mina promised she wouldn’t “steal her mans” (as she put it). That comment made her bury her face into her hands even more, wishing that, for once, she was the one with the invisibility quirk instead of Hagakure.

She sighs, shaking her head. She's never really seen it before now, the way he looked at her like she had the world in her hands. She's never seen the faint blush on his cheeks whenever her eyes meet his. She's never seen him outside of his normal, stupid(ly cute) self- the self she found herself being drawn to.

But now, at 4 in the morning, all of those things are all too apparent.

Jesus Christ. It’s too much to hope for, that maybe- just maybe, even with all the shit she puts him through- even with how bad she’s treated him, maybe he liked her back- maybe he even saw her as a friend.

She looks up, and goddamn it, he’s giving her those stupid puppy dog eyes. Really, those things should be illegal. Who gives him the right.

She's known for her poker face, but, as his amber eyes threaten to pull her in to the point of no return, she gives in.

”Fine,” she reaches out, black painted nails grasping the neck of the guitar, ”only if you shut up about it.”

Kaminari’s eyes were such a bright anber, the genuine appreciation and gratitude in their depths making them warm, Jirou felt herself being pulled in for the 20th time that night.

He looks like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide, smile infectious, as he reached out, passing the guitar to her.

She can't fight the upwardtug of her lips, and shit, she's smiling. In a way, they are being forced to grow up way too to fast. They’re only 16. They still have a lot of growing up to do, but they’ve already experienced so much.

I guess the whole ’shit dude, I might die tomorrow’ thing just comes in the whole hero package.

And, sometimes such things cause even the strongest of people to falter.

But...

She's looking at him, but his attention is now focused on one of her deep dope posters. There's that annoying look on his face again, the same one that he had when he was telling her to share her passions with the class. There's that look in his eyes, that tilt of his head, the way his fingers twitch as if he wanted to reach out and grasp the guitar for himself.

And, even through all this villain bullshit, he’s still always smiling, always fighting, always so stubbornly loyal even when he doesn't approve.

The bed shifts, and he’s turned back to her again, hands on his knees and he's looking at her oh shit-

She might just be a little head over heels.

Ah, jeez.

She managed to avert her eyes, her face heating up quickly. It was really unfair how this idiot had her wrapped around his finger, even if he didn't know it yet.

He grinned, flopping down onto the bed next to her. She winced as the guitar in her hands hit against his knee, but he didn't seem to notice.

“What’s it like to sing and play guitar at the same time?” he asks, running his hands up and down the neck of the guitar, a cocky grin playing on his lips. She sighs, giving him a glare as she swats his hand away from the precious instrument. He's so unbelievably childlike at time, and she never really knows how to respond to it- she's an only child, and yikes, it was overwhelming.

“Oh honey, Don’t even get me started.”

His eyes widen, and suddenly, he snorted, leaning back against his bed frame.

She chucks a pillow at him when he laughs, turning her face away from him as she hits him squat win the face. She doesn't even know what she did, but she doesn’t want to take any chances

“What?”

”I just never took you for an, ’oh honey, ’ person.” He snickers, ignoring her glare, “have you been hanging out with Aoyama?”

She shudders as she thinks of the eccentric boy. She respects him, sure, but jeez- the sparkles. They were polar opposites, and there was no way in hell that she would associate herself with someone as, well, “bright” as he.

“Do you want me to sing or not?”

“Yes ma’am!”

That makes him shut up, his eyes still pleading as she quickly tunes the guitar.

“Huh, maybe that’s why it sounded so weird when I tried to play,” he looks over at her hands as they expertly turn the knobs, making sure that the sound on the guitar was just right.

“...You didn’t tune it?” She asked incredulously, fingers pausing on the knobs.

“Do you think I know how to?”

...Fair point. She probably should’ve taught him how to do that when she was teaching him for the culture festival. How the hell did she miss something so important?

But there was no way in hell she was giving up her pride for this.

“You know what? I’m not surprised.”

She turns back to tuning the guitar, but not before she caught the betrayed expression on his face.

“Hey! I’m trying my best!”

“I know.”

He looks surprised when she doesn’t retort for once, but she looks down, focusing back on the guitar and not the way her cheeks flushed.

“What’re you gonna sing, one of them deep dope songs? I’ve never heard any.”

“First of all, no- at this time, singing one of their songs would definitely wake everyone up. And second of all, that’s illegal. Their music is the best.”

It’s too early in the morning for rock. Sure, she loves the genre dearly, but she doesn’t want to risk anyone waking up and finding her in Kaminari’s room.

In any other person’s room.. maybe, but she knows that she’s never hear the end of it if Mina knows that she spent the night in Kaminari’s room. Alone. With him. The boy she had a crush on.

The thought made her want to curl up in a ball and shrivel up on the spot. But, while she was dying internally, externally she had finished tuning the guitar, making sure that it was properly tuned by playing a few chords.

So, if it isn’t rock.. normal music it is?

Her song choice other than rock is relatively limited. Yikes. She needed to fix that. But there was a song at the back of her mind, the one she had heard on the radio the other day- a soft one, one that wouldn’t wake anyone up, yet one that suited her voice.

She couldn’t believe that she was doing this.

She began to strum out the first few chords, fingers deftly coursing over each string. From in front of her, Kaminari was leaning in, head in his hands, face squished, as he watched her begin to play, amber eyes wide and excited.

Maybe Mina was right. He was her number 1 fan.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, you might as well take notes.”

She smiles a bit when she sees him flush, sitting up instead of leaning his head in his hands like he had before. His hair was a mess, and it was illegal that he looked that good- especially at 4 in the morning.

Much like him, she flushed as well.

Even with all the turmoil in her mind, she played the chords without fail, not stumbling even when she felt like dying from embarrassment.

Music has always been her stability, and maybe, just maybe, it could save her this time too (though she doesn’t really know if she wants to be saved in the first place).

Ah, screw it.

“All I am is a man,” she starts, voice shaking slightly as she gets into the melody, “I got the world in my hands,” Kaminari smiled as her voice gets stronger- more sure. He nods at her, leaning his head in the palm of his hand as he watches.

His eyes darted up to hers, catching her staring at him as she played. She tensed, still hitting the notes but missing the beat, the lyrics stuttering off her lips for a second longer than needed.

The air still feels vaguely electric, but Kaminari always makes her feel sparks.

She swallows and keeps going.

“I hate the beach, but I stand in California with my toes in the sand.”

She’s always been the kind of person who closes her eyes when she sings- always been the kind of person who loved to imagine the scene, to see what it would be like if she were living it in the moment.

“Use the sleeves of my sweater, let’s have an adventure,”

She allows the darkness that came with closing her eyes to engulf her, allowing the muscle memory of playing each and every chord to lead her. She feels the weight of the guitar in her arms, the way the bed beneath her dipped beneath both their weights, the warmth of his body next to hers.

In that moment, it was them and only them.

“Head in the clouds but my gravity’s centered,”

In an instant, she was no longer in Kaminari’s room.

She imagined the flashing lights- courtesy of Aoyama being the disco ball. She imagined the dance team below them, dancing their hearts out as they all fought to gain the approval of the other classes- as they all have their hearts out to the little girl who had yet to smile.

“Touch my neck, and I’ll touch yours,”

She imagined the band, her band as they finally played the song they had practiced all month.

She imagined herself, in front of the band members, singing into the microphone with all that she had, hands just barely shaking as she played the guitar that was strapped around her neck.

She imagined Tokoyami, strumming his guitar in front of her and absolutely killing the f-chord portion of the song. She hears his fans cheering his name, though she knows that he’ll deny having any. That’s just like him- too humble for his own good.

She imagines Momo, her fingers floating across the piano keys, her rich girl upbringing coming in handy. She’s focused, eyes hungrily staring at the keys as she plays the needed melody. She never knew her friend could look so fierce, but, honestly, Momo always found ways to surprise you.

She smiles as she sings, thinking of her best friend.

“You and your little high waisted shorts.”

She imagined Bakugou. Oh honey, he’s a trainwreck. Well, a good one. He’s doing his thing, but that doesn’t stop the explosions. She prays for whoever has to pay for property damage.

And, well, she imagined him, the last member of their little band. He’s floating, literally, as he uses the momentum from Satou’s throw to grab everyone’s eyes, trusting Sero to catch him as he continues to play the melody.

They lock eyes, and, as the lyrics flow out of her mouth, she’s smiling.

It didn’t take too long to finish the song, ending it with a gentle strum of her fingers.

“The holes of my sweater...”

”Damn,” she hears the breathy whisper from in front of her, and she slowly opens her eyes. He’s much too close- so goddamn close. Their faces are only mere inches apart.

She can see the scars that adorned his face, the little lightning bolts that seemed to be underneath his skin.

And holy shit they’re too close.
Her eyes widen, and she scrambled backward, head nearly slamming into his bedframe.

“Shut up!“ He laughs at her comment, but scoots backward, his own cheeks a little pink after realizing their proximity.

“But really, Kyo, you’re damn good at this! I knew we could believe in you!”

Jirou turns her head to look at him, and finds him already looking at her. There’s darkness at the back of her mind, but there’s something peeking through it- something bright.

He’s her light.

...She really was head over heels.

And, honestly, with the way he’s looking back at her, she’d like to think that he thinks the same.

“Can I try?” She raised an eyebrow as he eagerly takes the guitar from her hands, hands positioned in a manner that vaguely resembled a g chord. He was trying, that’s what mattered..

She hoped to god he wouldn’t do something stupid. Last time, when she was trying to teach him a few easy songs to help him train for the culture festival, the only things he could remember how to play were those stupid tik tock songs (she swears that, if she hears ‘hit or miss’ again, she will have an aneurysm).

“My heart’s-“

Ignoring the incredibly out of place E chord, she nudged his shoulder, “If you’re going to sing the song that I think you’re going to be doing- I swear to god.”

“- a stereo. It beats for you so listen close.” He nudged her with his shoulder, laughing as he saw the small smile that she was unable to hide, “Your melody’s in every note.”

That it was, that one song he bullied her with since the day he found out that she was into music (“It’s literally you! Stereo heart! You know, with your earphone jacks!”).

...Okay. He wasn’t a bad singer. Far from it. Sure, he had no clue how to control his breathing- but he had a nice voice.

She’s a music nerd. The fact that he could sing alone was enough to make her fall even harder for him.

“Make me your my radio, I’ll turn you up when you feel low.“

..Maybe this wouldn’t feel so stifling if he was focusing on the chords. But no, he’s focused on her, randomly strumming out a few of the chords that she had taught him, a soft smile on his face.

Unlike her when she played, his eyes were open, shining with an emotion that she couldn’t decipher. Purple eyes met yellow, and, for the 20th time that night, she felt her heart in her throat.

“This melody was meant for you,” he stopped, continuing to strum the same chord over again, as if waiting. She saw that look in his eye, the expectant one- the one that came along with that stupid smile.

She smiled, rolling her eyes. “So sing along to my stereo.”

It was far too cheesy- considering her heartbeat was literally a stereo. If she had a penny every time someone joked about the song with her, she’d be rich.

But, with that goofy smile on his face- and how he obviously thought that he was being clever, she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yes! Finally got her to sing with me!” He air fist pumped, as if he had just won some sort of prize.

“You wanted me to sing with you?” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, “You could’ve asked- I wouldn’t have said no.”

Okay, that’s a lie. She probably would have died on the spot had he asked her, her earphone jacks probably acting of their own accord and stabbing at him. Yikes. She could already see the headline: Denki Kaminari found dead in Miami.

“Eh, I dunno- I just didn’t want to get stabbed with your earphone jacks again- those things hurt!”

..Point taken.

“And I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…” she rolled her eyes, trying to hide how flustered she was feeling. He kept showering her in all these compliments and, while it wasn’t unwelcome, she wasn’t used to it.

Huh, that’s Kaminari for you.

“Romantic?” He raises an eyebrow, stopping mid action, the guitar still in his hands.

“You know what I mean!”

He, being a dumbass, absolutely did not. He wouldn’t tell her though. Nah, he didn’t want to get stabbed with her earphone jacks tonight.

So he just changed the topic.

“Man, it sucks that I can’t figure out the chords though..” He pouts, looking like a puppy that was just denied if a treat, “I tried looking online, but nothing worked! I even tried to get Bakubro to help me, but he just told me to fuck off before sauntering off after Kirishima.”

There’s a fond sort of frustration in his words, and she gets it- she sees the way that Momo goes out of her way to talk to Todoroki, though it sometimes meant that Jirou herself was left alone. She loves her best friend, but jeez, confess to the dude already.

..She’s being a hypocrite.

“I’ll teach you.” She’s twirling one of her earphone jacks in between her fingers, feigning nonchalance as she watches him freeze.

“Really?!” She tried her best o ignore the way his face lit up, completely shocked.

“Think of it as practice for the culture festival, or something.”

She tried to ignore the fact that she should really get started on teaching him the song they’re doing for the culture festival as opposed to, well, a completely different song. But, when Kaminari had his mind set on something, he made sure to give it his all. And, with the guitar in his lap, she figured that, this time, that would be the case too.

..Maybe an extra song won’t hurt.

“Okay, so where should we start?”

He brushed over a few of the strings, genuinely confused as to how to do this. He really did try learning it- he wanted to show off and show Jirou that yeah, he was serious about helping her with the culture festival. He wanted the class to win- he wanted to be apart of it!

He meant it when he thought that her being able to play all those instruments was cool. Because it was! It was dope as hell! He wished that he could do something like that, and it sucked that she didn’t see her talent.

So, by sticking to her side whenever mentions of the culture festival came up, he vowed that he would absolutely kill it when it came down to the actual performance. He’d make her see that, hell yeah, she’s a rock star.

I guess the truth is, he just wanted her to be happy.

He watched as she began to talk about chords, a stupid smile on his face even though he had no goddamn clue what she was talking about.

Let’s hope she doesn’t realize.

“Well, the first chord is F..” she trailed off, catching Kaminari’s helpless “You have no idea what that is, do you?”

..Whoops. Too obvious.

He smiled sheepishly, “..Am I supposed to?”

She could only sigh, shaking her head (her eyes hurt from rolling her eyes so much). “Here, I’ll show you.”

He held out the guitar to her, but she shook her head, instead pushing it back towards him, before taking his hand in her own.

The moment she did, she let herself seek out that warmth, let herself reach out a little hesitantly, curling her fingers on top of his.

“F is like this,” she gently lifts his hand off of the fretboard, placing his fingers on the correct frets. “Barring the first fret is annoying, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

She lifts her hand for a moment, allowing him to play the chord. It sounded alright, but it could be better with practice. “Next is D, which is pretty easy,” she puts her hand on top of his again, ready to show him the next finger placements.

“I take your hand and hold it closer to mine,” he jokingly sings, allowing Jirou to move his hand to the position of the next chord.

I thought love was dead but now you’re changing my mind

As she thinks the next lyrics, she can’t help but think about how cliche this whole this is. First, sharing their traumas in the dark, two lost souls helping each other find themselves bit by bit, then the whole ‘milk’ thing(she fights a shudder at the whole milk thing still. Warm milk is gross!!).

Now, they’re singing together, cheeks rosy as she teaches him a song that was, well, pretty much about her.

Underneath her hand, his palm is clammy and she feels a spark travel through her arm for the barest of seconds. But it’s gone in a flash, leaving nothing but tingles that raced through her veins. She doesn’t move her hand, even as he experimentally played the chord, smiling when it came out sounding good.

Jirou lost herself in the warmth of Kaminari's hand underneath her own, not thinking about letting go. Not wanting to either.

He doesn’t say anything about it.

A part of her hopes that he doesn’t want her to let go either.

“You want to try it out for yourself?” She says, showing him the last few chords. Her hand is still loose on top of his, holding his hand in place.

“Well, will you sing with me if I do?” He has the cheeky smile again, and while she doesn’t know why he’s so obsess with her singing, she doesn’t find it unwelcome either. It’s actually kind of... flattering.

She rolls her eyes, “if it means that you shut up and we get at least an hours sleep, then yes.”

“Alright! Let’s get started then!”

As he starts to play, she feels the crackle of electricity underneath his palm, and, even though her mother always told her that she shouldn’t play with electricity, she’s glad she has this time.

After all, Kaminari has alway made her feel sparks.