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Kaminari Denki is tired. Tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt when they tell him he’s definitely going to fail the test because surely, he forgot about it?
No, he did not forget about it. He spent three nights revising but couldn’t stay seated for more than 30 minutes so he moved to the windowsill, but then the sky was so pretty with pink and orange entwining leaving him staring in awe long enough for the hues to disappear. And then he had to eat dinner, then he came back and paced the room and decided to do it tomorrow. He could finish it. He definitely could, there were only 3 chapters to revise.
It went on until the night before and he sat as the moon slowly faded and shifted through his room and the sun filtered through, but his head was empty. Could he remember anything? Was he going to fail again? It wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone but he really wanted to show them he wasn’t dumb. Or stupid. Or idiotic.
He could be smart.
He could name every single star and recite the periodic table from memory. He knew the entire Hamlet play by heart. He could psychoanalyze a side character and dissect them from one minor detail because those were the most important. He was observant, he had good memory, he could be the most intelligent student, and he had great motivation.
He just… lacked focus sometimes. His head would go over whatever Aizawa sensei was saying and his hand would start doodling an eye. Then he’d get called out and they would all laugh.
He’s tired.
“Earth to Denki!”
Denki blinked, finding Sero’s face inches away from his own.
“Where’d you go? Mars?” Mina chuckled, splayed across Kirishima’s bed. They’d been hanging out together, discussing the latest twitter feuds until Bakugo had decided to quiz Kirishima on math because he’d mentioned needing help and the best way was to apparently randomly yell equations and expect the correct answer in a few seconds.
Then it had come down to the usual.
When it came to Denki’s turn he hadn’t been quick enough, but he knew the answer, knew the formulas, he just needed time. But they’d laughed and moved on anyway, along with his thoughts that had spiraled, going to a space he did his best to avoid when he wasn’t completely alone.
He had to leave immediately. He knew what was happening. They did not need to see. They did not.
He choked out a laugh, hand coming up to run through his hair in an effort to look casual.
“I think I’ll head to bed guys. Kinda tired.”
Kirishima blinked, confused at the abruptness, but nodded all the same.
“All right, dude. Goodnight then.”
He was at the door, hand turning the handle when Sero laughed out, “Too dumb for Bakugo’s questions huh Denks?” ignoring Kirishima’s sharp rebuttal to the statement.
Knuckles white and breaths stuttering, Denki chuckled and rushed out, hoping it wasn’t obvious how his breathing had become rushed, or how his hands were shaking, or how his eyes were tearing up quick and fast.
This is stupid. Why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry over. It’s what usually happens. It’s been happening for ages. Get used to it. Useless. Useless .
The door slammed shut. He sank down, wrapping his arms around himself, crying quietly.
No one needed to hear. Always laugh, make a joke, they shouldn’t have to worry about him being… a little hurt. Or tired.
But you’re always the joke. They should care. They should have fucking noticed.
“Denki?”
He jolted, choking on his tears slightly in surprise. Who was that in his room?
Wait.
This wasn’t his room.
Fuck fuck fuck
Hitoshi Shinsou watched him from his bed, eyes blown wide, purple hair its usual disarray. Denki sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve,and on his feet immediately.
“I’m- I’m so sorry, I must have accidentally- I’ll leave now,” Denki blinked back more tears, stumbling over his feet.
Shinsou was so cool. And nice. He never called Denki dumb, even though he probably had every right and opportunity to. He was the only person Denki would go to in the dead of night (the guy never slept; Denki learned that when he found him eating leftover soba at 3AM. They had a nice chat about how midnight snacks help ease heavy minds) for help with a question he suddenly had the urge to solve and despite the heavy sigh and eye-rolls, the door would always be opened fully and patient murmurs would coax his mind into finding the answer, no matter how long it took.
Shinsou was a good friend, and if Denki felt a bit more than that no one needed to know. But now, because he’d somehow opened the wrong fucking door and had a breakdown in his good friend’s room, would he ever look at Denki the same way? Would he say he was being stupid? Maybe he would just pretend it never happened, he was someone who kept to himself.
He was turning the handle, breathing through his mouth and wondering why the hell the door wasn’t opening when a hand was placed on his shoulder, guiding him away and onto the bed.
He’d been pulling the door, when he should have pushed it, he realized.
Dumb.
“Denki?”
He sniffled, annoyed with himself and wondering why he was just sitting there, he should leave. Now.
“Yeah?”
He didn’t look at Shinsou, afraid he would be staring at him with pity, or annoyance. Besides if he did, he would notice how red his eyes were and how splotchy his cheeks were. The pink bitten lips. Mussed hair. Dried tear tracks. His eyes would take everything in and he would decide Denki was being stupid and overreacting.
But the purple eyes did not reflect any of that. If Denki had looked, he would have found concern, stretching deep. Denki Kaminari made his nights less lonely after all. He always made him laugh. Denki Kaminari was kind.
Shinsou cleared his throat. “Are you alright? Did someone say something?”
Denki shook his head out of reflex. “No. I’m fi-fine. Just tired.”
They sat in silence for a while, Denki fiddling with his thumbs, itching to run and Shinsou seething because now he was damn sure someone had said something.
He’d noticed after all. He’d noticed how Denki’s eyes would dim when they called him ‘dumb’ over some test. How he would turn quiet. How he would take the jabs and pokes good naturedly, but Shinsou recognized forced laughter and smiles with a practiced eye (He used to do it a lot too after all, but then he met Denki).
But he’d hoped Denki didn’t actually believe any of that. Denki wasn’t dumb. Denki was intelligent. Denki left him speechless sometimes with the things he would say about the stars, the most random facts about how the most massive stars are the most short lived and the amount of homoerotic connotations in Hamlet, regarding the friendship Hamlet and Horatio shared and how the latter would rather die than live on without Hamlet. Denki thought that was pretty gay and to be honest, Shinsou agreed.
(Not because he would agree even to Denki’s wildest theories, because he wouldn’t! This was just logical. Absolutely nothing to unpack here. Nope.)
Shinsou, after some silent pondering, decided to tackle the issue head on.
“You’re not dumb,” he said as firmly as possible, taking in note of how Denki’s eye twitched, lips curling downwards, the hint of disbelief in those eyes.
Those assholes. They don’t even realize they’re doing it do they?
“What?” Denki, honestly, had no idea where this was coming from. But Shinsou met his eyes, determined, and he felt the back of his neck heat up as a hand was curled around his.
“You’re not dumb, “he repeated, softer this time. “Did you know you have the third best score for English after Momo and Midoriya?”
No, Denki did not know.
Shinsou continued. “Of course we don’t know where we stand in terms of specific subject rankings because they rank you according to your average score. “ His brows furrowed, eyes glinting with distaste.
“It’s stupid!” Shinsou snapped, the way Denki’s eyes had welled up again going unnoticed. “Because kids have different levels of intelligence in different subjects, and some of them just can’t deal with subjects like math and science because their brains handles things differently. Our education system is a sham and has unfair treatment on that basis. No one is dumb, and the ones who seem dumb are actually really intelligent.”
He met Denki’s eyes again, thumb drawing circles when he noticed the tears, the slightly parted lips, and he smiled in that particular way he did, with a little quirk at the corners that softened his eyes and made them look like lilac petals with dewdrops on them (Denki was pretty sure he could die, right now, and be ecstatic about it, because it was Hitoshi Shinsou and he got it).
“You’re really smart Denks, “a soft murmur of reassurance, resilient in its softness. “You’re not dumb at all. When you talk to me about the stars or how Hamlet and Horatio were definitely boning without touching, and when you take some time but grasp a math concept easily with some pushing and when you just sing out the entire periodic table when you’re making us a midnight snack, I know how smart you are. It’s their fault for not realizing it. Don’t listen to them. I believe in you.”
I believe in you.
Now the tears were falling, and a great heaving sob broke free straight from Denki’s chest, because:
“You believe in me?”
Shinsou –chest spasming in panic because oh my god he’s crying and he had never seen him look quite so fallen apart, stars moving in his eyes and pouring out of them- reached forward and for the first time in a while, initiated a hug. His arms wrapped around his back, guiding his face into the crook of his neck, palm gliding over the planes of a spine that was surely broken from a weight that was particular to Denki Kaminari alone.
He’d read a line Denki had written once (proof read it though none of his essays ever needed that but he insisted):
I think today I want to rip out my spine and paste it on a page and then bleed words onto it. Maybe my tears will turn to gold and lay splattered, creating a pattern that you can spend a couple days discerning.
And Shinsou would spend years discerning the tears he could feel spreading on his shirt, and hold in the spine that was moving against his palm.
Denki had never felt so much pain and relief at once, his hands held onto Shinsou’s shirt feeling that if he let go, he would be alone again. He wasn’t dumb. He was not. His friends were just inconsiderate sometimes, they didn’t understand the weight behind their words.
But I’m tired.
It’s a while before Shinsou hears his sobs soften to quiet sniffles and hiccups. Feels the back relax into him, head tucking itself more firmly under his chin as if he was craving it. Something warm. Shinsou decided to follow the same rule he followed whenever a cat laid on top of him, he did not budge an inch.
“I’m tired.” Denki snuggled further, eyes heavy and limbs leaden.
“I know.”
Denki felt himself being brought down gently, still laying curled into Shinsou, a hand caressing his spine, breaths moving in his hair, a heartbeat steady and slow under his palm.
Shinsou decided he was going to have a talk with Aizawa about the fucking system and with Kirishima, because he honestly seemed the nicest and most understanding out of the godforsaken Bakusquad, about Denki Kaminari and how they needed to think before they spoke.
“Do you want help with English, Shinsou?”
“Sure.”
A little wiggle of joy that elicited a chuckle from Shinsou, preceded the first time they slept well into the morning.
(Of course Iida gave them a talk about sleeping on the same bed and doing unethical things when he found them the next morning, but maybe something good came out of it when Denki laughed with his full heart and Shinsou’s cheeks reddened at the sight of it)