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Week Five
Whispers were ringing through the corridors of U.A; rumours passing from student to student and changing depending on who was telling it. Some said it was a big fight, others said that panic was running rampant, one variation was that this was the end of their school as they knew it. But all the gossip, all the mutters in the corridors and late-night discussions, they all led back to one thing;
“Did you hear that U.A’s teaming up with Shiketsu?”
“That’s a fuckin’ ridiculous rumour,” Bakugou spat as he threw his card on top of the growing pile, his lips turned back in a snarl and his eyes blazing crimson fire. “We’ve always been rivals. Why the hell would we team up with those supercilious brats?”
Denki held back the comment of but you’re also a supercilious brat for fear of being killed on the spot. He didn’t particularly want to die when he was on his way to – for the first time in a long time – beating Ashido.
“I heard,” she continued, effectively ignoring what he said and switching her cards around in her hand. Her game face was on; all thin lines and sharp, calculating eyes. “That something else happened at Shiketsu they haven’t publicised yet.”
“That would explain it,” Sero mumbled into his mug of tea, shifting so that he was comfortably underneath the kotatsu with his head resting on Denki’s shoulder; watching him decide over what card to put down. Denki had refused to let him help since he wanted to beat Ashido by himself, so now he was stuck watching instead. Judging his choices and snickering when she one-upped him. “Still, isn’t it kinda worrying? That things have gotten so bad with the League we’ve had to team up?”
“It means better safety,” Tokoyami said this time, having decided to join their competition, laying a card on top of Denki’s when he put it down. “But it also means they may be expecting something to happen, or something is happening that they’re not telling us.”
“I damn well hope not.” Denki sighed and let his head fall heavily on top of Sero’s. There had been rumoured talk of a traitor just after summer camp and now there was this. What was he supposed to believe? “I’ve had enough of that creep Shigaraki, seriously.”
“Haven’t we all,” Ashido sighed, going to rest her head on Bakugou only to be pushed back by the shoulder again. Bakugou’s friends were known for being a touchy-feely lot (and it was slowly seeping into Bakugou too), but he was still weird about being touched; especially by girls. Her pout was enough to raise a few snickers. “I’d rather Shiketsu than Ketsubutsu. Hey! Do you think that means we’ll see them more often? ‘Cause some of them were really cu – ”
“No,” Denki and Bakugou hissed in tandem, already having flashbacks to the HLE and Meat Boy, whatever his name was. Just that was enough to put Denki off for life, and if Kirishima were here, he’d agree.
Speaking of which, where was Kirishima?
“He’s with Anxiety Central and Fat Gum,” Bakugou answered stiffly, and Denki swore that for a second – just a second – he’d heard a twinge of jealousy. It took him a moment to realise he was talking about Amajiki and grinned; kneeing him under the table – or at least trying to, because he ended up kneeing the heater instead and yelping loud enough that a few of their classmates outside looked around in concern.
“Dude,” he started again after he’d checked for any burns (and stopped tearing up). “Don’t diss Amajiki when he’s out there protecting your boyfriend.”
The glare that Bakugou sent him was nothing short of homicidal; the tell-tale gunpowder smell hitting his nose as his quirk began to activate. “The hell did you say?”
“Kidding, man! Relax!” He squeaked, hiding his face behind his cards and curling into Sero’s side for protection against whatever explosion was coming his way. Where was Kirishima when he needed him to diffuse a situation?! “You two act like an old married couple anyway, so I just – it’s only – ”
A slap on the table had them all jumping in fear, only to realise it was just Ashido winning yet another round. As deflating as it was after a solid half hour of trying to beat her, he’d never been so thankful for her winning in his life. Bakugou would’ve (literally) exploded with how short his fuse currently was. Denki did notice, however, that he wasn’t protesting that it was Kirishima being referred to as his boyfriend - maybe he’d been right after that talk with Midoriya. What if he was coming to the slow realisation of his feelings?
Fuck. He needed to get a move on.
Though… Perhaps he was far ahead already. Jirou’s attitude was so weird lately that he didn’t know what to make of it. She’d completely shot him down with what Yaoyorozu had said (he trusted that because Yaoyorozu wasn’t a liar) but then when she’d dragged him to the toy store, when he’d fallen into her, when he swore that she nearly kissed him –
Double fuck. What was he supposed to make of this? Denki felt like he was being pulled around in circles or led in some confusing dance that he was both too afraid to make a move in or pull away from. Kirishima seemed to think he had a chance but Yaoyorozu didn’t, so who was he supposed to listen to? His best friend or Jirou’s? The person he trusted or the person Jirou trusted?
Triple fuck.
“Flush of heart’s, ace to seven – you guys are so bad at this!”
“You don’t give us a chance!” Denki whined back, picking up his peach juice. Ashido was merciless when it came to games - cards especially - so he doubted he’d ever get a chance, but it was more to move the conversation away from the simmering bomb next to them, glowering at his cards. Bakugou was difficult to read, as much as Denki tried (and failed, and often made the situation worse).
What was he thinking?
“Fuck this.” Everyone startled again when he abruptly threw his cards down and got up, stomping away from the kotatsu and towards the staircase. “I’m going to bed – any of you shitnerd’s disturb me and it’ll be your funeral.”
Denki caught his tongue just before he could say that it had only been an hour since school ended (because it seriously could be his funeral) and instead let out a low sigh. Everyone was acting weird as hell lately; it was like walking on eggshells, hard to keep up.
Silence enveloped them for a minute or two, before Ashido turned to Tokoyami. “Can you keep a secret?”
He blinked, taken aback. “I… suppose so?”
“Great.” She turned back to Denki and he knew, just from the look in her eye, what she was about to ask. It was inevitable; he’d chased Bakugou away by using his secret no-filter-when-he-really-fucking-should-have-it quirk, and since it was only Tokoyami here (everyone else was outside playing in the snow that had begun falling over lunchtime which Denki would have loved to join but got suckered in by a cold Sero and Ashido) he wasn’t free from her endless prodding. “How’s the bet coming along?”
“Competition,” Denki corrected. ‘Bet’ made it sound like he wasn’t really pursuing Jirou and was just it for the money, which was about as far from the truth as you could get. He didn’t care for the money. Did it really matter? “Fantastic. I think.”
“You think?” Sero tilted his head to look up at him, worry knitting his eyebrows together. “Man, y’know Ashido has plans to ask Jirou out for you, right?”
“Listen, I’m nearly there by myself!” Denki lied, giving Ashido a flirtatious wink. “She’ll fall for me in no time!”
“That so?” The purr in her voice made him really fucking uncomfortable. Even his worst nightmares wouldn’t cover what she had in store for him if he lost this competition; he had to find something and quickly. Would grabbing Jirou and kissing her be too forward? They’d nearly kissed before, or so he thought. “Then I can’t wait! You only have two weeks left after this week.”
“It’s nearly been five weeks already?” It didn’t feel like it – not at all. His and Jirou’s friendship had seen rocky paths and clear skies and he still had no idea where they stood. Shy of asking her directly, he had trouble reading her and her movements. “Can I ask for an extension?”
“Nope, the deal was seven!” Ashido chirped happily, smiling at the confusion on Tokoyami’s face and deciding to relent. “Kami and Kiri made a bet to see who’d ask out their crush first. The loser gets their crush asked out for them in the most embarrassing way I can think of.”
Tokoyami let out a low sigh, placing his long-forgotten cards on the table. “I see.” His tone was disapproving (he had all rights to be) but it was far too late to opt out now. He’d made the mistake of agreeing to this bet when his lovesickness was too strong to handle and now? He regretted it more than anything. So many things could go wrong that he’d kill Ashido for, but then again, if he did end up being with Jirou, he might just kiss her instead.
It was that hope he had to hold onto; the one that told him he did have a chance, even if things went fuck-up. Jirou might be giving him mixed signals but the near-kiss was something promising.
He hoped.
“I feel exactly the same,” Sero sighed, shaking his head (as much as he could with resting against Denki). “You guys know I like fun and games but isn’t this a little too far? What if Bakugou or Jirou find out and don’t see the funny side?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine! They get together in the end and it’s all sunshine and rainbows! If anything, they should thank us for finally kicking their asses in gear to ask them out. You could do it on that overnight trip!”
“I don’t even know if we’re going to be in the same group!” There was no way he was going to ask her out in front of everyone – that felt like pressuring! “Wasn’t it moved anyway?”
“To next week,” Tokoyami added uncertainly, unsure whether to speak. “They’re setting up further safety measures. Or so I heard.”
“Reassuring,” Denki grumbled, throwing his cards on the table too. “If anything goes wrong, I’m gonna blame you, Ashido.”
She laughed, gathered up the cards and shuffled them all the while smiling at Denki with that cryptic smile only she could have. “C’mon guys, lighten up! What’s the worst that can happen?”
The Saturday announcements were the first time the school had directly addressed a circulating rumour.
There had been many before; whether Aizawa and Snipe were ex-lovers, whether Midoriya was the secret illegitimate child of All Might, whether Present Mic’s hair was an exaggerated wig … There was also the huge fuss kicked up over the rumours of a traitor (that guy Shinsou had got a load of shit from a few second years over it since his quirk was “perfectly suited”) but that had mostly died down now that the League was staying suspiciously low. All of them had amounted to nothing and eventually fizzled out, but now?
Chaos.
“The purpose of joining forces with Shiketsu High,” the Principal was saying, standing atop a podium to address the first year Departments. He looked as sincere as Denki had ever seen him; hands folded together and mouth in a sober line rather than a smile. “Is to enhance the safety of all students. It’s a decision that myself and the Principal of Shiketsu after another incident – that I won’t elaborate on – occurred, which makes this in our best interests for all our students. I know this may not come as a happy surprise to most of you, especially in light of the recent Hero License Exam and Management Department Placements, but in times of crisis we must put our differences aside and unite to best what is trying to best us.”
Though there was only subtle muttering rather than full-fledged annoyance, you could see it in everyone’s faces; this wasn’t going to go well if frostiness between the two schools continued. It wasn’t just the Hero Department – each one had competitions and exams where they’d come head to head with Shiketsu and it had gotten ugly. Denki was beginning to believe that they’d got the long end of the stick with the exam; most of the students had seemed relatively decent but it was difficult to speak for everyone. There were assholes in U.A too that he couldn’t ignore; Shiketsu was probably having the same thoughts.
Whatever had happened, it must have been bad.
“Please don’t worry too much, none of their students will be on campus and vice versa; things will go on as they were, and lessons won’t be disrupted. This union is more of a… Distress call, so to speak. If we are in trouble, likewise if they are in trouble, we will come to their aid or provide refuge if the school is deemed unsafe. It’s no secret to anyone that the League is targeting us due to our connections with All Might but for what reason they have begun targeting Shiketsu is unknown to us. We hope to find out more information, but this will be in due time.”
He gave them a small bow. “One last thing! We will publicly announce this in a few weeks to give us time to plan things properly, so please keep it within school grounds until then! If, at any time, you’re accosted by a Journalist or a member of the public, come and find a teacher or politely decline. If you go out of campus, please stay in groups of four or more. Keep yourself and each other safe! That is all.”
Denki kept replaying the speech over in his head as he lay in bed that night, trying to make sense of it all. Could Tokoyami have been right? Was the school expecting something? The way that Nedzu said it made it sound like they were preparing for a full-scale attack, and it clawed at Denki’s nerves. Maybe he was overthinking things and it was just a safety precaution, but what if it wasn’t?
Damn it.
He rolled over; buried beneath several pillows and a blanket with his phone in his hands. Tonight was one of the rare nights he temporarily closed the Nightcare (well, ‘temporarily closed’ was more of a ‘only disturb if you’ve had a bad nightmare or it’s an emergency’) to try and catch up on sleep, but after that speech? He didn’t feel safe, even with their teachers and all their amazing quirks that, combined, were scarily powerful. Just one Noumu had the ability to cause destruction and with All Might’s retirement it was a match made in hell. Now that that pillar of support was gone, Denki realised how much he’d taken the security from knowing All Might was around for granted, and he knew that many of his classmates felt the same.
Was anyone safe anymore?
His phone buzzing caught his attention; his eyes wide and blinking at the screen from where he’d been on Instagram to the flurry of incoming messages. It was Kirishima, but usually, if he wanted to talk, he said it face-to-face. Weird.
He clicked on the messages.
[01:37]
ManliestMan: Dude I’m gonna do it but iM so scared
ManliestMan: What do I do?!
ManliestMan: I don’t wanna scare him off!!!!
Danki: What
ManliestMan: I’m gonna corner Bakugou!!!
It took Denki a full minute to realise what the fuck he was talking about – it was the advice he’d given him weeks ago. He’d assumed he’d done it already since Bakugou’s mood had improved a little before it dropped again (man, that was some rollercoaster) but if he hadn’t… maybe this would be the last step to end Bakugou’s temper tantrum. If that was what it was, instead of what Denki had a gnawing feeling about.
He had something on his mind, that was what Midoriya had said. Could it really be that?
Denki’s thumbs hovered over the keypad uncertainly. A huge, selfish part of him wanted to tell Kirishima to leave it but this was his best friend. He couldn’t let his feelings be trampled all over just because Denki was scared of having Jirou asked out for him. That wouldn’t be fair and hell, that would make him a real shitty friend.
Besides, maybe he was wrong. His Tinnitus could be fluctuating, he could be worrying about the outing, he could just be being really fucking moody. This was Bakugou – world’s worst person with emotion aside from Todoroki. Who knew what was going through his head?
[01:41]
ManliestMan: kaminari?
Danki: Sorry bro, go 4 it
Danki: Go get him u fiend
Daanki: Is he even awake????
ManliestMan: Yh! I knocked on the wall
ManliestMan: He knocked bck
Danki: Eh?
ManliestMan: *back
ManliestMan: We have this thing
ManliestMan: If I wanna come over I knock on the wall
ManliestMan: If he knocks back it means yeah I can
Danki: That’s gay ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
ManliestMan: Do not
Danki: Do not what ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)
ManliestMan: Kaminari pls I need support
Danki: OH HEY WAIT BRO
Danki: What happened to jumping on the ceiling?!
ManliestMan: You were serious…?
Danki: Yes
Danki: Do it
Denki waited, a grin spread wide on his lips as he listened to the faint sounds coming from upstairs as Kirishima got off his bed. A few seconds later came three dull thuds and he had to stifle a snort of laughter into a pillow. God, Bakugou better realise just how lucky he was when they started dating.
[01:59]
Danki: Beautiful
ManliestMan: You owe me man
Danki: What for???
ManliestMan: Risking waking up Mr. Class President
Danki: Understandable, have a nice day
ManliestMan: hewgfywey
He listened as Kirishima’s heavy footsteps moved across the ceiling then disappeared. Should he wish him luck? Probably not, if Bakugou saw the text he’d blow a fuse. Kirishima probably wouldn’t need it anyway – he was like the Bakugou-whisperer or something. The only person who had the most effect on him.
God, the feelings between those two were as clear as day, yet here they were, oblivious as fuck.
Jeez.
Across the hall, Kyouka found herself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling; as awake as she’d been six hours before.
It was one of those shitty nights where there wasn’t any reason for it. Not a nightmare about poisonous gas in forests or the ground cracking and shaking beneath her feet, not nerves or worries, not even the weather. It was like her body was determined not to rest and to keep her up instead wondering why the fuck she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t like she could go see Jamming Whey either – he’d booked today to catch up on his sleep, so he’d be ready for the next few weeks.
Was he sleeping? Knowing Kaminari, probably not. Even if he did schedule the night to himself, even if he did spend all day charging phones and trying to reach his limit, the day that Kyouka walked into his room and found him asleep would probably be the day she died. The only times she’d seen him sleep were when she woke up the next morning after spending the night with him, and it was so… Weird to see. Kaminari looked more boyish asleep; his cheeks were rounder and his expression calmer rather than the boisterous noise she was used to.
That, and he drooled. Apparently one of Bakugou’s favourite nicknames for him wasn’t out of creative ways to show his affection; he genuinely was drooly. And cute.
… Ugh, was that a gross thing to admit.
Her fingers skimmed over her owl’s fur; two fingers rhythmically stroking up and down it’s back as she counted the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. It was a moving-away present from her father for nostalgia; when she was little she had them on her ceiling to help her settle down for the night (she’d been convinced there was a monster in her closet) and now they did the exact same thing. Except this time the monsters lurked in the shadows or old, forgotten buildings and bars, and had hands on their bodies and scars on their faces. She’d seen true monsters that even those tiny lights couldn’t fight, but they comforted. That was better than nothing.
“Fuck,” Kyouka breathed, rolling over again. No matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t sleep. Her body wanted to get up, move around, walk across the hall to see him -
Holy shit, had she got to the point where she relied so heavily on him for sleep that she couldn’t without seeing him?
… No. Nope, there was no way in hell that was what it was. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. Kyouka was many things but she wasn’t desperate, not in the slightest.
For some reason, her brain chose that exact moment to replay the other day in her head; where Kaminari had been so close that she’d felt his breath on her lips – the faint brush of his hair against her cheek, his eyes dark and golden like rich honey. He’d leant forward, she hadn’t pulled away, and if it weren’t for Ochako…
Would they have kissed?
What did this mean, though? Was it spur of the moment? Kaminari was affectionate with everyone, his friends especially – she hadn’t thought much of the cuddling or touches in the slightest. They probably were in more of a friendly sort of way but… She’d gone to kiss him, and he hadn’t moved. Maybe it was out of shock – maybe it was spur of the moment – or maybe it was just her. She was attracted to him, there was no denying that. Perhaps it was because her mind was seeking out contact and comfort like it was the first time she’d ever received it.
… Maybe she was just imagining it. She’d just have to wait for him to make a move or acknowledgement that he had interest in her too.
A knock on the door had her shooting up in bed; sitting straight and confused. Who the hell was that? Was it Kaminari?
Tentatively, she got out of bed; shivering as the cold air hit her legs and face (the heater was doing fuck all to warm this place up) and moving over to the door. She opened it a crack to see who it was and nearly jumped out of her fucking skin when the figure wasn’t Kaminari height but twice that size. If it weren’t for the faint light filtering in from the windows, she probably would have slammed the door shut again or jabbed at it with her jacks, but now her eyes were adjusting, she recognised what – or rather, who – it was. “Hey? Why are you here?”
It was Kouda. Even with the lack of light, he looked shy and nervous; awkward beyond belief. He had a notebook in his hands which he gave to her (he’d started using it to communicate with those who couldn’t understand sign language), and she had to squint to read it;
I’m very sorry if I woke you! I can’t sleep, and I didn’t want to bother Kaminari – you were the only person nearby who I’d be comfortable with coming to. If you’d rather sleep, I can go back to my room! It’s no trouble.
Kyouka read the note again before sighing, handing it back to him. “I wasn’t sleeping – it’s fine.” She opened the door wider and Kouda came inside, signing ‘thank you’ as he did (one of the only words she did know, along with ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, ‘please’ and ‘piss off’) and hovering until Kyouka made him sit down on her bed. She took her desk chair; bringing one leg up and tucking it under her chin after turning the small lamp on her desk on.
“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” She hummed when he nodded his confirmation. It was a surprise that Kouda chose her to come to instead of… Well, anyone really, but it wasn’t like he had any reason not to. Kyouka considered them friends, especially after the exams, and that’s what friends did, didn’t they? “So, um. Are you excited for the trip next week?”
Lame as hell to begin with, but she couldn’t find anything else to say. She didn’t have experience with this kind of thing – she wasn’t Kaminari, not even remotely. He flitted around, a social butterfly, and knew exactly what to say and do to make people feel better. Kyouka? She pushed people away and insulted them for disturbing her sleep. Or jabbed them in the eye. Or both.
She watched as Kouda frowned a little and wrote something down, reading it when she was given the notebook.
Yes and no. I think this’ll improve our teamwork but I’m worried. Everyone remembers what happened to Bakugou and then with the recent teaming up with Shiketsu…
“Yeah, I know.” She was glad that she wasn’t the only one who thought that. Things were sketchy and felt unsafe – Endeavour just… Wasn’t the same as All Might. Nor Hawks, nor Kamui Woods or any of those heroes rising through the ranks. “We just have to trust them, I guess.”
Kouda took the notebook back.
I have a feeling there’s a lot more to this than they’re telling us. Maybe I’m wrong but it makes me nervous. I just hope nothing attacks us.
“You and I both. It’s exhausting dealing with villains every week.”
I think that’s more an everyday thing.
She grinned. As much as she hated it, it was true. Sometimes it felt ridiculous, like the League was determined to screw them over by any mean’s possible. Was it about All Might anymore? Who knew what they were thinking – there was so much she didn’t understand but wished she could.
The notebook held out to her again had her attention, and she looked down.
How’s everything with Kaminari?
She recoiled, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyouka watched as Kouda’s eyes widened and he hurriedly began scribbling something down. How did he know? Were there more rumours circulating around? Then again, Kouda’s room was right next door to Kaminari’s – maybe he’d overheard things on those sleepless nights. That was a possibility.
… Oh, screw it.
“Wait,” she mumbled weakly, and Kouda paused, staring at her expectantly. “You won’t say anything, right?” Kouda relaxed a little, shaking his head. She believed him. “I –” The problem was, it was a lot harder to admit out loud than internally. It was confirming things that she’d pushed away and denied. “I… Shit. Okay. I like Kaminari and I don’t know what to do.”
Saying the words to another living person made her stomach curl uncomfortably. She felt vulnerable; her feelings out in the open like this could have so many repercussions. Not like she didn’t trust Kouda to say anything, it was that someone could be listening. Someone could overhear and then her feelings would get back to Kaminari and… And then what?
But, much to her mortification, it was like the dam she’d been building up to hold back all her thoughts and feelings suddenly broke and she couldn’t stop herself.
“Every time he smiles I just – my chest feels like it’s going to explode because he’s not – he’s not mine and I don’t like it. Every time someone looks his way I get jealous like some Middle Schooler, but I can’t help it and it frustrates me because I just – I don’t understand and I’m – it’s like some cheesy shit from one of those crappy romance films! I keep saying I don’t like him, but I do, and I can’t do this shit anymore! I’m so confused and upset and all these rumours that – it’ll just – it’ll get worse and I… Ugh!” Kyouka sat back in her seat again, deflating, and utterly horrified that she’d said all of that. Some things must have been buried so deep she hadn’t realised and it was only when given the freedom that she finally thought about it.
Despite the horror, her chest felt lighter than it had done in weeks. Like a deadweight had finally been pushed off because she crushed her pride for a minute or two. Even so, Kyouka couldn’t look him in the eye, not when he knew all the emotions she’d been bottling up that Momo should have known before anyone else.
“What?” Kyouka grumbled, miserable, when she felt something tap her knee. It was the notebook.
Do you love him?
Kyouka felt her defences come up immediately because that – that wasn’t something she’d even considered. She’d known deep down that it wasn’t interest to begin with, it was reminiscent of a crush, but this? This was so much stronger and scarier. Love wasn’t something she’d fuck around with because what if Kaminari rejected her? What if he broke her heart?
“No.”
Kouda, when she finally met his eyes, didn’t look convinced. Nor did he look… Happy. His eyes held what was unmistakably a saddened glint to them, but it disappeared just as quickly as she’d seen it.
Thank you for trusting me, I promise I won’t say a word about it (or write a word).
Kyouka snorted at that, deciding to ignore what she’d just seen. Kouda was good at comforting too, somewhere near the Kaminari level, and for some reason she felt… Secure with telling him. As secure as she did with Momo – though Momo was much more for offering advice and giving opinions if asked. It was nice to be able to talk freely.
I know this may seem a little forward, but have you considered asking him if he feels the same?
Again, that defensive flare worked itself up in her chest and tightened her throat, but she was too exhausted to care. Nothing seemed to be slipping by Kouda anyway - it was like he could read her mind or something. “No. I’m scared to. What if he rejects me? I can’t – that’d be too – ” Her pride would take immeasurable damage. She’d probably never be able to look him in the eye again and she didn’t want that. Kyouka wanted those sleepless nights, those ponytails and braids, the juice and tea, the watching the stars… Even Just Dance. She’d rather have an eternity of him being just out of reach than an eternity of nothing.
It’s okay! It was just a suggestion, but if you want my honest opinion, I don’t think you’ll meet any resistance. Kaminari seems like the type of person to at least try something.
… She hadn’t thought about that. Kyouka had been stuck in the mindset of being rejected straight away. Would he really consider something if she asked? “You think?”
Kouda nodded. Firm and certain.
She sucked in a breath, held it, released. Her pride was surfacing again, but at the same time, what if she never got a chance? Spent the rest of her life wishing she’d known how he felt and if he would’ve considered dating her? He had no reason to want to since she insulted him all the time – albeit playfully – and she had her mood swings, but…
But…
“… Okay. Okay.” Her words were trembling, voice quaking, fear gripping her heart. “Tomorrow’s our day off, we can – I’ll ask him then. How he feels.”
Kouda smiled at her; thin and gently soothing.
I’ll cheer for you! Don’t worry about it too much – what’s the worst that could happen?
Snow was falling; thick and soft like a wide white blanket across U.A. Denki watched it from the kitchenette window, enamoured, with a spoon in his mouth and his hair a spiky blond mess from sleep. Frost clung to the window panes and skated patterns across the glass, powder drifted through the air and settled daintily, the birds jumped and played and pecked at the hardened ground in search of food. It was peaceful, like a place frozen in time; a place wrapped up in a blanket safe from villains and monsters and anything that wanted to cause harm.
Here, it was safe.
Many hours of tossing and turning had Denki falling asleep as the sun began to rise, then he’d slept until 10 a.m. He felt refreshed, even though it was only three or four hours, and more awake than he’d been in a while. Today felt like a good day; he’d decided that when he plugged himself into the outlet this morning and thought of what to do. Probably drag his friends outside for a snowball fight; knock on B’s door and collect Honenuki and Tetsutetsu to join them. Monoma too so they had a target.
That’s if they weren’t studying. They had another set of exams soon, followed by winter break, which meant a lot of people were busy. Maybe he could persuade them to take an hour off and join him outside in the snow; it was no fun alone.
“Mornin’.”
Denki looked up to see Todoroki - yawning and bleary-eyed and voice thick with sleep - walking over; hair as ruffled as his. He knew from experience that Todoroki was a very sleepy person (normally in some state of tiredness) and it took a while for him to come online in the mornings, which was really inconvenient when they had school and Denki was trying to kick him out the beanbag.
“Hey,” he greeted, smiling, and shovelled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “How’d you sleep?”
“Mhm.”
Denki snorted a laugh as Todoroki sat down at one of the tables and rested his cheek on his palm; looking outside and blinking slowly at the snow like Denki had done a minute before. He looked three seconds away from falling asleep again.
“It’s snowing!” Ashido’s voice cut through the air, and suddenly she was hanging on his shoulders and leaning over his cereal to look out the window. She definitely wasn’t a morning person, but apparently the sight of snow could erase all of that. He couldn’t blame her, though; he was just as excited. “We’ve gotta go out there and build a – wait, wait, wait, Todoroki!”
She turned to him, smile wide, and he looked at her with an expression that clearly said he wasn’t awake enough for her yet. “Can you re-enact Frozen? Y’know, the ‘Let it Go’ scene?”
“… Yeah… ‘D love to…”
“Brilliant!” Ashido clapped her hands together before moving to the fridge; rummaging around for the milk. “Today’s going to be a great day.”
…
It was the tone of her voice, the way she purred the words that had Denki’s stomach dropping. He glanced over his shoulder at her suspiciously as she (seemingly) innocently made herself some cereal like nothing had happened at all. Her expression was light and bubbly, too light and bubbly for someone who was a mixture between Todoroki and Bakugou in the morning.
She knew something Denki didn’t.
“… What?” He asked after an uncomfortable pause; watching the way her lips twitched into a faint grin. It was predatory. “What’s happened?”
“Hm?” Ashido glanced at him, eyes sparkling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Denki kept his eye on her as more people began to filter into the common room; some sleepy, some wide awake, some not giving a single shit and fluttering around the room like it wasn’t early at all (Aoyama), but he couldn’t relax. Nor could he find it in him to announce his plans for the day because Ashido was being so utterly fucking terrifying that he was on high alert.
So much for peace.
“Hey.”
He looked up from where he was cleaning his bowl to see Jirou leaning against the counter; arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, dark circles smudged under each eye. She hadn’t slept last night – he could tell. Guilt suddenly embedded itself in his heart that he’d taken the night to himself; what if she’d needed him?
“Hi,” he answered, voice cracking.
Jirou gave him a weird look before making herself toast. “Did you manage to sleep?”
Denki huffed a breathy laugh, trying to act casual as he finished with his bowl and instead watched what Jirou was doing; watched the soft slant of her eyebrows and the gentle curve of her mouth. “Four hours! Record, right?”
She arched an eyebrow. “I’m impressed. Maybe you’re finally becoming a normal person.”
“I’m perfectly normal!”
They shared a private grin before lapsing into silence. It was comfortable, along with the soft murmur in the common room and the smell of coffee and toast – something reminiscent of home. Sunday mornings helped with the homesickness; small snippets of time where everyone fell into a routine and discussed their days without anywhere important to be. Despite the anxiety clawing at his stomach, he found himself relaxing; comforted by the presence of Jirou and a low warmth that the snow seemed to keep in.
“Kirishima!”
Ashido’s voice again, which he would normally ignore if it wasn’t for how she’d been earlier. Smug in a way that had Denki feeling sick. His eyes flew open where he’d closed them and looked to where Kirishima and Bakugou were walking into the common room, side by side. Kirishima seemed to purposefully avoid at Denki and it made him feel even worse. What was happening?
“Kami, come over here!” Ashido chirped, beckoning him with a forefinger; that smirk still wide and purposeful. Denki exchanged a look with Jirou before slowly making his way over, and he didn’t have to look to know that she was following.
For some reason, it made his heart flutter.
He looked curiously at Bakugou and Kirishima when he reached them, Jirou by his side (and a few classmates observing) as Ashido reached over to slide an arm around his shoulders and pull him to her side.
“So,” she grinned. “I have some news for you, Kaminari. Or rather, Kirishima does.”
“Huh?”
Finally, Kirishima met his eyes, and Denki wished to God that he hadn’t. “Kaminari, I’m sorry, I tried to hide it from her, I really did - ”
Denki’s eyes flickered to Bakugou; looking away, out at the snow, the faintest shade of red on his cheeks. He looked back at Kirishima, the way he was standing, his eyes looking everywhere but at Kaminari. The proximity between them, the smug smile on Ashido’s face, the talk last night -
It hit him like a bolt of lightning.
A cold sweat worked its way up his back and dropped down to his stomach, his eyes going to Jirou immediately. Why did she have to follow him? Why now of all times? Why in the middle of the common room?!
“What’s going on?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed, looking between them all like a lost and defensive sheep. Jirou forgive me, please forgive me –
“Kirishima and Kaminari had a bet going on!” Ashido tittered, completely oblivious to the looks from both parties that told her no. “Kaminari had to ask you out, Kirishima had to ask Bakugou out!” She laughed and turned to Denki. “But neither of you are getting the money – Bakugou asked Kirishima to date him last night, so technically, you both lost.”
If you don’t ask them out, then we ask them out for you. In the most embarrassing way possible.
Unaware of the atmosphere falling on the five of them, Ashido turned to Jirou and flung her arms up in the air, in front of nearly all of their classmates, and yelling at the top of her lungs; “Will you go out with Kaminari?!”
…
You could hear a pin drop. Denki couldn’t look at her, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t process. It was like everything suddenly froze in time and it was only he and Jirou standing there with barely a gap between them. Last night, when Kirishima went to Bakugou’s room, they must have confessed. Last night, when Denki was lying there hoping that they wouldn’t, they did. When he’d told Kirishima to corner him and ask what was wrong. Midoriya was right – he did have something on his mind. Denki had been right too – it was his feelings for Kirishima.
He’d been his own downfall.
“Is it true?” Jirou’s voice was as deep and blank as the snow. No emotion, no waver, no nothing.
Denki let his eyes fall shut. Distantly, he could hear whispers.
“Kaminari and Kirishima really did that?”
“After all that happened…?”
“But why? Don’t they like them?”
There was no point in lying to her. Lying would make the situation worse, would make everything more complex, would risk having Ashido destroy everything they’d built up. Why hadn’t Bakugou blown up too? He seemed completely calm, though distant he was indifferent, but Jirou? He could feel every wall they’d carefully constructed being broken down – every stepping stone pulled away, every night, every cuddle, every touch, every look lost.
“… Yeah.” Another long beat of silence where nobody said anything, not even Ashido. Maybe now she’d finally picked up on the atmosphere – the fact that it was crushing the living room. Denki had to say something, tell her he’d never thought of it as a bet, never seen it as something for money. It wasn’t about that, it never had been, and Ashido had phrased it wrong.
He turned to her, desperate. “Jirou, I – ”
Denki yelped as something fast and firm connected with his cheek; hard enough that he was knocked straight off his feet and onto the floor, dazed. It took him a moment to realise that Jirou had punched him, and he lifted his head, woozy –
The look on her face had his heart tearing where she’d sewn it back together again. Tears were running down her cheeks uncontrollably, lips drawn back in a sob of a snarl; eyes glassy and, above everything, hurt. Jirou looked betrayed, torn down, as broken as he felt.
What had he done?
“After everything – after everything – it was all for money?” Her voice was rough and scratchy with raw emotion; angry but distressed, sad but rejected, quiet but low. Every fibre in his body wanted to reach out for her, to pull her close and comfort her and reassure her and love her. Everything was pulling him towards her like a magnetic connection, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t move, it was like he was paralysed. “You – you did this all for a fucking bet? You’re… You’re all…”
She couldn’t find the words. They were lost to unfiltered sobs wracking her small frame, her hands clenched into fists so tight he swore they were bleeding, her body quivering with rage or upset he couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both, but he knew he deserved it all. Every single punch, every insult, every kick or jab she wanted to take out on him.
But Jirou didn’t do a thing. All she did was stand there and stare at him, until her voice worked again; her tone quiet, not threatening, promising. “Don’t ever come near me again.”
Then she was gone, running off down the hall, and a second later, Yaoyorozu was running after her, calling out to her, not stopping.
“Kaminari…” Ashido’s voice, and a surge of anger welled in his chest. “I’m so – I’m so sorry, oh my God – ”
Ashido was crying; her hands clasped to her mouth and her face riddled with guilt. She hadn’t expected this, that was clear, nobody expected it to end like this. Sero had warned him, Tokoyami had warned him, but he hadn’t listened and now Kirishima had a boyfriend and he had his heart shattered again –
He needed to get out of here, to go. Denki couldn’t stand it for a moment longer.
“Kaminari?” Kirishima, voice laced with worry and his hand outstretched, but Denki didn’t want it. He didn’t want anyone except Jirou and he couldn’t have her, couldn’t comfort her, couldn’t tell her the truth.
Fuck.
Despite the fact he was very dizzy from the punch, he scrambled to his feet and just ran. Down the hall, out the front door – not bothering with his shoes or a coat or listening to the voices calling out to him. The air was cold, freezing, chilled him down to the bone despite his constant warmth. The snow was deep, thick, had the indent of his footprints in a line that went from the front of the building all the way to the bushes by the path that he finally collapsed by, unable to run anymore because the pain in his chest –
Jirou hated him. Hated what he’d done, hated his friends, hated everything and he couldn’t even comfort her because it was his fault. He hadn’t been quick enough to tell her his feelings, to tell her that the money could go screw itself because what he wanted was her, not some stupid bills.
Bills were replaceable, she wasn’t.
And Ashido – he couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t blame her. He was the one to agree to it in the first place; it was his fault and he’d dragged Kirishima into it too in a moment of being so fucking stupid that he wanted to punch himself. This was all his fault and he was dealing with the consequences. Denki couldn’t understand why Bakugou wasn’t angry, or even remotely annoyed, it didn’t make any sense but –
God -
Denki wanted to tell her he was in love with her and had been since they got paired up for the battle trial – he’d wanted to tell her, but he hadn’t. He couldn’t. His mouth hadn’t moved, and he’d stayed completely still and now she thought that what was said was true. Jirou thought he’d used her, that every touch and glance and laugh was fake; all part of a façade for a bet.
Why did it hurt her so much? If she’d never liked him, if she’d never date him, then why was she so angry? Why was she so sad?
Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t hated him as much as he’d been led to believe.
Denki couldn’t hold it back any longer, didn’t even bother to bury his face in his hands; he couldn’t. He couldn’t lift them, nor could he move or do anything except hang his head and watch as the tears that flooded dripped onto snow; froze, joined the billions of snowflakes already there.
The chance he had – the one he hadn’t realised he’d had – he’d let slip right through his fingers. Jirou had feelings for him that he’d swept aside, and he realised now that he was just as dense as Todoroki and Midoriya and Ojiro and Hagakure. Denki had been the one to roll his eyes and laugh and now here he was, suffering the worst of all.
And every
Single
Thing
Was his fault.
Game over.