Chapter Text
Kaminari Denki's quirk is probably the best and worst thing about him. It's flashy and powerful- perfectly suited to being a hero. However, there are some days where he longed a quirk that didn't sabotage him at every turn.
His quirk manifests itself in the middle of snack time. Some kid- he can't even remember his name now and isn't that the kicker, was it Takahashi?- and his cronies were bugging him about sharing his food. In hindsight, Denki usually shared his food because if he can’t be as smart or as cool as the others he wants to be the kindest he doesn’t want anyone to go without a snack. However, today his mom didn't have time to cut his apples into rabbits and let him pick out a sugary snack from the convenience store. Denki's been wanting to try these for a while now, so he's allowed to be a little selfish, right?
Takahashi(?) doesn’t share the sentiment- the entire situation's escalating at a rate that’s mildly concerning. He keeps moving further and further into Denki's space and his voice is rising along with the tension permeating the air.
Denki is a big coward hates confrontation and decides to gather up his snack in a calculated retreat but one kid grabs onto his shirt sleeve and, predictably, he panics. He panics and something is tingling underneath his skin and it feels hot and tingly but invigorating and he lets it go and the hand on his shirt is gone but the kid is on the ground Denki doesn't understand what's happening w h a t ' s-
"Whoa, look at Kaminari!"
"Ew, he's drooling."
He doesn't get it he's just so confused- and then Takahashi(?)opens his mouth and goes, "God, get a load of his face, what is he, retarded?"
There's a silence at his words. A thick kind of silence that no one wants to be the first to break. One of the girls lets out a nervous giggle and life floods back into the room with a roar of laughter. Denki doesn't know who starts it but all his classmates start beating on a rhythm on the table and start chanting, "Retard! Retard!"
It's an ugly, clunky word that causes Denki to flinch even when he's short-circuited himself and it's what finally catches their teacher's attention. She puts down her magazine and loudly admonishes the kids around her while herding Denki toward the door and into the hall. She keeps asking him questions he tries so hard to answer even though he doesn’t understand so he settles for making vague noises. Everything after that is a blur of sound and movement. His clearest memory after laying down on a cot to face the wall is his mother picking him up from the nurse's office- how did he even get there- and petting his hair. She shoulders his backpack and takes his tiny hand into her dainty one and leads him toward the main entrance.
"Why are you crying, Denki? You finally got your quirk like the rest of your classmates!"
He blinks because he was crying? Since when? He flashes back to the classroom, the pointing, that word. Denki can't bring himself to snitch on his classmates so he just grips her hand a little tighter as they leave the building.
That was just one time, he reassures himself. It'll never happen again.
The next few years pass in a whirlwind of doctor’s appointments and bad news.
No matter how many tests his parents pay for, none of the doctors they consult can devise a way to use his quirk without severe consequences. “He’s young,” they'd said, “his brain is still developing.” His parents tell him to only use his quirk when he’s exhausted all other options and he agrees. When he was older he’d have more control but at the rate Denki was shocking himself he'd fry his brain like an egg before he got into middle school and then he’d really be an idiot.
Okay, everybody words it nicely to cushion the blow but, despite what his grades look like, he's not an idiot.
It gets to the point where The Incident at school fades into speculation and half-truths. Some of the bolder kids interpret Denki never showing off his quirk during recess as proof that the whole thing was a hoax and he’s actually quirkless. All he wants is for his mom and dad to not look so harried and stop wasting their money on quirk specialists who sound like broken record players. If being quirkless is the only solution he’ll never let off a single spark. Denki imagines a bookcase in his mind and places his dreams of being a hero onto the topmost shelf and fast forwards time so dust covers up all the what ifs and might have beens. He forgets about helping people, about having his name scrolling across the news, making his family proud and proving that even anxious little Denki can be a pro.
Denki realizes he'll never become a hero, and he's fine with that. Honest.