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The song Denki was listening to began with an intense guitar riff he couldn’t help but hum along to, having heard it several times before. He had always wanted to learn how to play it himself. Surely with enough practice, he could pull it off.
He wouldn’t be able to try over the weekend, since he brought his only guitar to school with him, and he was back home for two days. Sero had driven him home the night prior after classes were over, and would come pick him up late tomorrow and bring him back to campus. A pretty good arrangement. Denki was happy with how it turned out.
His computer screen blinked at him with the vibrant music video currently playing, causing him to glance back up from his phone. He found his attention split between both devices, wanting to watch the video but also very invested in Kirishima’s Instagram story where he had been rambling about a game he was playing through for the first time. A weird combination of things, but it seemed to fit the mood of the weekend.
The day had been a bit odd. His mother had always had anger issues, but he still felt rather shocked when she had stormed out of the house a few minutes ago. It didn’t take a lot to set her off. Just the call from Denki’s older brother, Ryusei, saying he wouldn’t be home for his birthday. The plan was to go for a nice restaurant for once, to celebrate both boys, as Denki’s birthday was only two weeks later. But now, he said he was too busy with his new job at the Commission. And then Denki’s mom walked away without a word, her phone left behind on the kitchen counter.
He had never seen his mom so upset before, and worst case scenarios instantly flooded his mind. He had heard the garage door open, so she might’ve taken the car, and then who knew what would happen? What if she never returned? Or worse, what if she lost her shit and drove right into a ditch?
Denki had to remind himself that would never happen. Sure, she had depression, but it had improved so much that she had stopped taking meds in the past few years, and seemed to be doing just fine. The underlying fear that something was seriously wrong wouldn’t go away, but it was lessened by that fact.
The sound of the garage opening again made him lift his head, but when his dad headed in that direction, Denki calmed back down. He would talk to his mom and get everything sorted out. Everything was fine. He heard them both speaking, so nothing bad had happened. His mom was alive, just a bit upset. That was fine.
The two headed into the kitchen where Denki’s mom had left her phone, and she picked it back up, knuckles turning white as she gripped it. “I feel like screaming,” his mom whispered, Denki only picking up on it with the slight displacement of one headphone.
“You should. If it’ll help,” his father replied.
There was a brief pause, and Denki prepared himself to hear her roaring bloody murder, but instead, her next words were calm, if a bit shaky. “Why did I become a mother?”
Oh.
“I threw my life away to have kids. I gave up everything for you and these stupid kids and how do they repay me? They don’t.”
“Haruka–”
“This…is not okay.” Her voice was getting a bit louder. Denki glanced over to find that she had an arm extended, pointing directly at him, hand trembling. “Yuma, this is not okay. Sitting around all day with a computer and a phone? At the same time?” Denki winced as his mother’s voice grew in volume. “All because I don’t know how to say no to you! That’s not okay!” She was beginning to shriek. Even with his headphones all the way on, Denki couldn’t block her out. “She shouldn’t be doing that!”
Denki’s heart sank in his chest. She? Why would his mom say that? He had been out of the closet for years, maybe four or five, and yet, his mom was still using the wrong pronouns? Sure, she was angry, but that didn’t excuse misgendering someone, her own son, who she knew was male. Maybe she really loathed his identity even in a normal state of mind? He loathed how emotional he would get just thinking about it.
Once his mom finished attacking him–and making a few more jabs at his father, Denki’s brother was thrown into the ring of fire. “And all Ryusei cares about is MONEY! He won’t even come home to see his fucking family because he’s too busy working for the HERO COMMISSION!!”
Denki had never heard anyone so loud. He could aliken his mother’s shrieks to a banshee, tearing out her throat with every word that ripped its way free from her mouth. “Why are you letting him do that? Why are you letting our kids be FUCKING FAILURES?!”
Denki wished he had left earlier, but since he was ultimately forced to listen, he decided not to make things harder on himself by sticking around. Strangely apathetic, he shut his computer, pulled off his headphones and set them aside, unplugged his phone and slid it in his pocket, and stood up. To the side, in the kitchen, his mother was still shrieking as his father tried desperately to calm her. “We should take this somewhere else–”
“NO! How DARE you let me end up with these fucking children? Ungrateful, worthless, pieces of SHIT!”
That was the last thing he heard before retreating to the safe haven of his bedroom. The door thankfully muffled any of the words being screamed, and all that was missing was a lock. But Denki’s bedroom door had never had a lock so he didn’t bother to think about it as he walked to his bed and rolled onto his back.
He thought he would be feeling more, but his mind felt empty as he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Instagram, looking through all the posts from his friends. But then he heard screaming echoing in his head again. “She shouldn’t be doing that!”
His hand tensed, gripping his phone tightly before he chucked it away. It landed by the suitcase with his things from school, but luckily the screen faced up, preventing any possible damage. Denki stared at it for a few seconds before he felt his eyes getting wet. “I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna be here anymore. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I don’t wanna be here anymore!”
Once the tears started, he couldn’t possibly stop them. He could feel himself losing his breath, each exhale becoming a breathless, wheezy gasp. Was he hyperventilating? He knew he was breathing a lot faster than normal…
“She shouldn’t be doing that!”
“Why are you letting our kids be fucking failures?”
“Ungrateful, worthless, pieces of shit!”
It was like watching an instant replay, his mind having recorded it in order to force him to see it again and again. His mom hated him. He made her regret having children. She still thought he was a girl. He was worthless.
He clasped his hands over his ears, as if that could somehow block out the voice repeating those terrible words, and the other voice that said they were true. Gasps and hiccups were all that came out, no coherent words or solid breaths. He told himself to calm down, but every violent, sobbing inhale was matching with a horrid breath out. He could feel his quirk reacting to his emotions, sending jolts across his arms as he gripped his torso in a self-soothing manner that did not work.
Why would she say those things? She knew he was listening! He was right there! And yet, she had still screamed about how terrible he was, using the wrong pronouns? He had been out for years! And yet she still messed up! Denki worried it was on purpose, to make him hurt even more.
Damnit, he wanted to leave, but he didn’t want to go back downstairs and through the house to the garage. Worst case scenarios flooded his mind again–what if his mom had gone so batshit insane that she stabbed his dad? What if he walked downstairs to find a bloody corpse on the kitchen floor–or worse, two? He hiccupped. He couldn’t do it, he needed someone to come pick him up and get him out of this hellhole, but he didn’t want to be crying in an Uber, so he thought through his friends who had cars.
God, who could he call–Sero! Yeah, he could call Sero. His friend should be around and available, since he drove him home the night prior. He trusted his friend. If he said he needed to leave, Sero would surely be there in moments.
He almost even managed a smile as he scrolled through his contacts, and the second he saw the name ‘Hanta Sero’, he hit the call button, placing his phone against his ear. Sero was notoriously bad at picking up phone calls and answering texts, but Denki had to try. His wish was granted when the ringing stopped. “Heya Kami, what’s up?”
That wasn’t Sero. A bit deeper, sort of scratchy–Kirishima. But even having realized that, Denki couldn’t stop himself from talking. “Hey, are you–are you free right now?” His words were consistently interrupted with hiccups and sobs, but he made himself finish speaking.
“Uh…what?”
“Are you d-doing anything right now?”
There was a pause that was a bit too long for Denki’s liking before he got another response. “Um…are you okay, dude?” It was a different voice speaking, one that sounded distinctly more like the friend he had been trying to call in the first place. “‘Cause you don’t sound great.”
“No, no, I–I’m fine.” The tight tenderness of his voice surely disproved that, but he had said it already, so he had to stick with his story. “I’m fine, just wondering if you’re free? ‘Cause I…I really just n-need to get outta the house right now.”
There was a long, terrible pause, and when Sero’s voice returned, he sounded uncomfortable. “Right, so…I’m kinda…busy…”
Denki’s heart, already shattered to pieces, seemed to break even further. “Oh, okay,” he said, knowing he sounded pathetically dejected but not being able to fix the tone. “Yeah, s-sorry for bothering you, haha…” He tried to laugh, hoping it would sound more upbeat, but it sounded exactly the same as his sobs. Sero let out a nervous, awkward sound, and Denki hung up, unable to take it anymore. He dropped his phone back into the clothes he had brought for the weekend.
Feeling snot dripping down his face, he headed for the attached bathroom, grabbing a few tissues and wiping at his face, refusing to look in the mirror. He knew his eyes were red. He didn’t need to see it.
He sat down on the closed toilet seat as he felt more tears rushing down his face, allowing himself a few more moments to sob before retuning to his bedroom. Part of him hoped Sero, or maybe even Kirishima, had called back. To show they cared. There was one new notification, but it wasn’t a missed call, just a typical dry text from Sero. “You ok, bro?”
He didn’t know why, but it just made him angry. He tossed his phone back down and returned to his bed, sniffling and wishing the pain would go away.
His mind drifted to Ashido. She had dealt with worse, he knew she had. He could recall with distinct clarity being in her car as she said her father had called her a cancer to her family. She hadn’t been crying. In fact, she was smiling. Nothing ever made Ashido upset, so why was Denki crying over something so stupid? He was too damn emotional to be a real man. Maybe that was why his mom kept misgendering him.
He hated his mom. He hated being trans. He hated being at home. He hated his dad for not standing up for him. He hated his brother for never being around. Denki couldn’t find anything he didn’t hate at the moment.
Well, maybe he didn’t hate school. It could be a bit much sometimes, but at least he was respected and treated as an equal. No one misgendered him unless it was an accident. For once in his life, school was a safe place.
He never thought he would be saying it…but Denki wanted to go to school again.