Chapter Text
The first time Denki does magic, white-hot electricity crackles from his fingertips, nipping and flaring to life, he remembers how his mother pales, how her jaw clenches together, and then, her words:
“Thunder and destruction. Oh, my poor boy.”
He hears grief, sorrow, worry, all tangled together, and he tries his best to stop, if it makes her smile.
She does smile; but it’s thin and faint, still so impossibly worried, and guilt churns in Denki’s stomach like sickness and nausea.
(but there’s not really stopping thunder and electricity, now is there? he can pretend that he can, but he can’t stop a natural force.)
+
It gets worse.
As Denki gets older, the electricity burns and thrums under his skin, ready to tear and crack him open like he’s nothing more than made of paper. It’s ready to burst out as a violent, crackling wave of destruction that his mother’s been so scared of.
It gets worse.
+
Until worse happens, on a street, in a city that they live in, Saitama, he can’t even remember why or how it happens.
But it does happen, and it’s his fault.
A white, blinding explosion tears out of him, tears the street, his magic hums and crackles and hurts, his eyes and nose and mouth bleeds -
(humans can’t really hold thunder inside their bones, now can they.)
- everything buzzes, he can hear people running and screaming. Denki is lying on the ground, convulsing and choking, he can taste blood and tears and horror what he’s done -
(it’s magic, destructive and dangerous, and - )
His mother grasps him by the shoulders, shakes him.
He has never seen her face that pale, eyes so wide and wet with tears. He has never seen her so terrified.
(terrified of him, an old, malicious voice whispers somewhere in his mind.)
“Denki - snap out of it, you need to run!”
“Run?” he stutters, barely comprehending what she’s asking him to do. His mind feels numb, lethargic. “N - no, I - I have to h - help, I did this - “
“No! Run! Go home, now!”
It’s an order, and he’s so detached, confused - so, so scared - that he obeys.
He runs home.
(like a coward.)
+
That evening he cries bitter tears, guilt and shame rise up to strangle him, he cries, grits his teeth and hates himself.
Then, his mother comes home, tired circles around her eyes, weariness around her mouth.
“No one died”, is the first thing she says, and Denki chokes out a relieved, dry sob. “But there are...people injured.”
“Oh no - I - “ Denki struggles to form proper words. “Mom - I’m so sorry, I don’t know what - “
“I know”, she interrupts him, and for the first time, she smiles. Even though it’s exhausted, even though it’s strained, it’s still a smile. “I know, and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize just how bad it was. It must hurt, right?”
Denki has to look away. (like ten thousand needles poking and prickling and stinging - )
She reaches to pat his head. “I’m sorry, honey”, she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
“H - hey, it’s okay, Mom - really, or - not really, but I’m glad no one died.”
“You - “ Mom hesitates, bites her lip nervously, and suddenly, dread pools in Denki’s stomach.
“What?”
“It might - do you good to visit a witch.”
“A witch?”
“I don’t think it’s wise for you to stay here, honey”, she says, sounding apologetic. “The guards are already looking into what happened, and for them to figure out what you can do... No.” She shakes her head, her posture suddenly straight and determined. “It will get worse. People are not meant to hold such violent magic inside. You need help.”
Logically Denki knows she’s only trying to help, that she only wants what’s good for him, but still, it feels like a brutal punch. He’s failed. He’s a failure. None of this would’ve happened, if he could control his powers -
But he can’t stay here.
The King’s guards will come knocking, they will ask and threaten and bully and demand answers, and if they find out what he can do, they will take him, to questioning, to the king, to the prison, to the tower -
He doesn’t even want to know what such royalty would do with a power like his.
So, his shoulders slump, and he asks, resigned: “Where can I find a witch?”
+
Leaving home hurts.
Denki understands why it’s necessary, but seeing the grief on his mother’s face nearly rips all resolve he has left in him.
He kisses her cheek, waves goodbye and goes.
(he cries.)
+
The witch lives a couple of weeks journey from Saitama, and by that time he arrives to a neighboring town, he’s heard everything from cottages perched on chicken legs to creepy cabins, and he’s getting kind of tired of it.
(mostly he knows he’s probably gonna get killed, because let’s be honest, his track record isn’t all that great, but hey, at least he can see some country side.)
The last remnants of his somewhat salvaged mood disappear completely, when he catches the sight of a wrinkled Wanted- poster.
WANTED ALIVE: CHARGEBOLT
- FOR DESTRUCTION OF CENTRAL SAITAMA
- description: young man, 18-21 years old, blonde hair
- WARNING! EXTREMELY DANGEROUS INDIVIDUAL, possesses extremely unstable electrical magic!
Price: 700 crowns
Panic lodges itself into Denki’s throat like a block of ice, and he hastily tears it off and hurries along the street.
The guards are looking for him. Cold sweat starts to bead on his forehead. Not good. Oooh, that’s not good at ALL. Also, 700 crows? Holy crap, that’s a lot. What the hell, how did this HAPPEN?
Denki wonders nervously if his mom escaped in time - ‘to an old friend’s house, she’ll take me, don’t worry about me, honey’ - and if she’s seen any of the posters.
Gods, like a real criminal now...
He quickly leaves the town tugging his hood back on.
Focus, please, focus now.
He hates himself.
+
Trouble finds Denki, because really, who is surprised, it’s the WILDS, of course something unpleasant and gross attacks him.
In retrospect, Denki should’ve been more careful.
It’s too late for retrospect.
The sky darkens, dark clouds gather above the horizon, and ice cold wind bends the treetops, back and forth.
Dark shadows spread and spread, until Denki can barely make out the path.
Then -
- then he hears it.
Wet breathing, like it’s wheezed through clenched teeth. Rasping, uneven, closer than Denki would like, and that’s enough for him to freeze.
(it’s so dark)
(for one stupid split-second denki laments over the fact that he hasn’t been blessed with fire powers, that would’ve been at least useful.)
Then again... he doesn’t want to see whatever is t -
Clouds drift just so that dim moonlight spills on the path, and Denki stops breathing. Cold fear crashes through his body like an anchor.
It’s sitting on the path crouched, it’s bony back sticking out, it’s skin gray and gaunt, rotting -
- and it turns it’s gory head to Denki’s direction, disfigured jaws stretching into a gaping maw, blood-stained, long, long fangs dripping -
a ghoul, whispers a very helpful voice somewhere in Denki’s numb brain. It will eat you.
Oh, shit, Denki thinks, his trembling hand settling on his dagger’s handle. The ghoul snarls; no, it screeches at the movement, and Denki decides nope and he runs.
He hears it leaping after him, closer, closer closer -
The ghoul tackles him, pins him to the ground, and the gut-rolling stench of decaying flesh, blood, bile whiff into Denki’s nose and he sees those fangs ready to -
His magic reacts, but he’s still drained from the Saitama explosion - it just sparks, flares into a weak thrum, not enough, god, why is it not enough NOW - ?
Frantically, nearly blind with panic, Denki grabs his dagger and sinks it into the ghoul’s stomach.
The ghoul makes a guttural, eerie whine and slumps limply on him. Out of breath, dizzy with adrenaline, Denki pushes it off and just lies there.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, did that really happen? What the hell -
“Oi! Hey, man, are you okay?”
Denki blinks.
There’s a young man running toward him.
He’s about Denki’s age if not a bit older - young man with very red hair, and handsome sun-kissed face.
Denki gawks at him, taken aback.
“I uh - huh?”
The young man kneels beside Denki. “Are you okay?” he asks, worried.
Denki’s brain feels sluggish, stupidly slow, so he just weakly lifts his thumb, and the stranger cracks a grin; flashing two rows of sharp shark’s teeth, wide and utterly charming, eyes crinkled like embers.
(denki finds it a little hard to breathe)
“Awesome, glad to know! That was super manly, dude - did you seriously take that ghoul on by yourself?”
“Uh... no? I mean, technically I kinda did, I guess? But I totally didn’t mean to, it jumped at me”, Denki explains awkwardly, feeling undeserving of any praise over panicking and running.
“Doesn’t matter, that was really impressive, man”, the stranger says enthusiastically as he helps Denki up to his feet. “You know, that beast’s been terrorizing one village for months.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh, dug up graves, ate corpses - it even killed three people. I took up a contract to kill it for them, and but buddy, you totally did that for me.”
Denki gawks at him. Is this guy for real? His energy is warm and contagious, like sunlight and warmth, and he’s grinning, like he’s somehow glad for Denki.
“Uh, sorry? I mean, you can take credit for it, whatever - I just stumbled on it’s path - “
“Doesn’t matter, that took guts”, the stranger says warmly and holds his hand to Denki. “Kirishima Eijirou, nice to meet ya!”
He holds a hand to Denki. Just like that, like Denki is normal, like Denki deserves any kind of praise, like he wasn’t running away, like he’s something else than a coward and a monster -
And Denki, gods forgive him, is selfish and flawed and ugly, so he takes it.
“I’m Kaminari. Likewise.”
“So, uh - would you like - and you can say no, by the way - to come with me to the village? They’ll pay a bit for the ghoul, and you can have it.”
“What? I don’t want any money!”
“Eh? Really?”
“Seriously, you’ve probably been tracking this thing for gods know how long and I was just - just getting lost and being weird, so no, I’m not taking any money”, Denki says sternly and fixes a firm look on Kirishima, who blinks startled, at him.
“You sure? You did kill it, and I know how terrifying that must’ve been. Don’t you want a compensation?”
“Look, I don’t care. Like at all. You can take the money, but if it’s that important to you, you can buy me something to eat.” A pause. “If that’s okay.”
Kirishima stares at him, ember bright eyes wide, and then, his expression softens. “You’ve got a deal. And for the record, you better order something expensive. And you’re getting at least half of the money. It’s not up for debate.”
“Wha - ? You’re unbelievable! What kinda man just - ?”
“Nope, not listening! C’mon, Kaminari!”
+
Denki finds out that Kirishima is one of those people, who just makes others feel at ease around him.
It’s such a strange sensation, to relax after being so nerve-wracked, high-strung and scared, so ashamed, and now this man just walks with him, talks about the village, how the orchards are gorgeous during the spring, how he grew up in a similar village in the north...
...all this while dragging the dead ghoul with him.
“Near the mountains?” Denki asks curiously, despite everything.
“Yeah! Near the Spine Ridge? I mean, it’s pretty damn cold in the winter. Toes are falling left and right. I imagine it’s like many villages, to be honest”, Kirishima says thoughtfully.
“Huh. So, you take - offers? To kill ghouls?”
Kirishima looks embarrassed, rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I mean, when people are in trouble”, he mumbles.
“That must be a lot.”
“Yeah, and that’s not really a good thing? This is like my... third this month?”
“Really?”
“Uh huh. C’mon, man, don’t look so impressed”, Kirishima laughs, embarrassed. “You should’ve seen my first encounter - it was really unmanly.”
“Whaaat? I don’t believe that.”
“Well, it was! I ended up face down in a ditch.”
“Ouch, ew.”
“Yep.”
“But you killed it, right?”
“Eventually.” Kirishima’s grin is crooked, flustered. “I mean, it was kinda a witness, it had to go.”
Denki is so surprised he laughs.
+
They reach the village in an hour.
It’s a rather simple village - smaller than the one with the Wanted- posters. Denki’s nerves flare up again, as he nervously scans the notice board in case there are some.
There are none.
“They’re not gonna be awake in an hour or two.” Kirishima hesitates and clears his throat awkwardly. “You up for a game?”
“Depends on what kinda game, I guess? If it’s strip poker and doing something really embarrassing, then nope, you can forget that.”
Kirishima snickers. “Nah, nothing so extreme. Unless you’re offering?” There’s a playful glint in his eye, and Denki’s mouth dries.
“I’m not”, he mutters, horribly flustered.
“Cool! No, but seriously, I meant more like chess. You know how to play?”
“Yeah, I know how to play.”
It’s such a surreal situation, Denki thinks.
He’s been attacked, he’s killed a ghoul, this guy helps him out of nowhere and they’re playing chess, like it’s all in any tangible sense of normal.
Denki has never been much of a chess player, anyway, but this is something... new. They are both quiet, concentrated and immersed in the game. A battle of wits, thinks Denki, a bit amused.
Finally, they come to a finalé.
“Oh, shiiiit!” Kirishima’s jaw drops. “That was a good game, dude! Amazing!”
Denki’s cheeks flush. “Stop it - your move with the Rook was genius - “
“No, no, you completely ambushed me - “
“ - stop giving me so much credit! Gods!” A beat of silence, then a slow, sweet smile spreads Denki’s lips. He can’t help it. This is the lightest he’s felt in a while; light and bubbly. “Thank you.”
Kirishima blinks. “What for?” he asks curiously, and maybe, maybe he knows.
Denki grins.
“For a good game.”
For doing this for me.
And Kirishima gives him a thumbs-up. “It was a good game! Man, that was nice.” Then, he looks up and pats Denki’s shoulder. “Hey, I think they’re up. C’mon?”
They pack the game away and cross the market square toward the village chief’s house.
+
Kirishima is apparently known in the village; he greets everyone by name and with a wide smile, asks about a dog, about some sick person, knows something about the people personally.
(denki is slightly amazed. just slightly.)
At the village chief’s house, they are greeted with tearful relief, grateful handshakes and insistent offers to stay for breakfast, but they share a quick look with each other and with the same breath, very politely decline.
“We have eaten, please give your family an extra helping for us”, Kirishima bows, and Denki’s heart skips a wild beat and pounds unsteadily, jolting and stuttering.
Oh - this man -
The village chief reluctantly agrees, because hungry children is a painful thought.
The chief’s old, white-haired grandmother peeks in, takes Kirishima’s hands into her own and says: “Say hello to your mother for me and give her this, won’t you, Eijirou? It’s tea leaves, I know her own will probably run out in a month or two.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks, she’ll appreciate it”, Kirishima says. “Stay safe, okay?”
The grandmother cackles. “I’m too old to be bothered on my own yard, lad. But thank you.” Her clear, gray eyes find Denki’s, and suddenly Denki is painfully certain that she knows. He doesn’t know how or what or why, but he’s so sure she knows.
But she doesn’t do anything. Just... smiles and nods. “Thank you, young man. You were very brave.”
“He was really brave!”
“I was running”, Denki mutters, red colour spreading to his ears.
“But you killed it, even though you were scared”, Kirishima points out, amused.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“You still did a good thing, lad”, the grandmother says and pats Denki on the head. “Be sure to feed this boy, Eijirou, he’s too skinny.”
“I will, thanks, baachan. Be careful, you both?”
The village chief pays them gold coins, the grandmother gives them a small pouch of medicinal herbs, and so, they bid their goodbyes and set off.
+