Chapter Text
Flashes of lightning slipped through the slats of the blinds, briefly casting striped shadows across the hospital room’s walls. The young, purple-haired boy in the room yelped loud enough for the nurses beyond the door to hear. When the thunder boomed a moment later, the yelp dissolved into full-on sobs.
"Poor kid," one of them sighed. "Having a major panic attack over a little thunderstorm."
"Have they given him anything yet?" another asked, wincing at the child’s terrified cries.
"Yeah," the first replied with a laugh. "Either it hasn't kicked in yet, or it wasn’t strong enough."
The door to the neighboring room slid open, followed by the soft patter of tiny bare feet.
"Denki! Get back here!" a stern woman's voice whispered.
"I just want to help, Mom," a small voice protested.
A soft knock sounded before the purple-haired boy's door slid open. The mother sighed and gave the nurses an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, he's a very caring boy."
One of the nurses waved her off. "No worries. Maybe it will help."
Denki spotted the source of the wails curled into a tight, trembling ball under the thin hospital blanket.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked.
The purple-haired boy looked up, his face soaked with tears and snot, then shook his head. Another roar of thunder echoed through the room, and he disappeared back beneath the covers.
"Are you scared of the storm?" Denki asked as he climbed onto the bed.
The shivering lump under the blanket gave no answer.
"Hey, that storm can’t hurt you.” Denki smiled, settling beside him. “Not while I'm here. What's your name?"
Hesitantly, the blanket pulled back just enough for frightened purple eyes to peek out.
"Sh-Sh-Sh-Shinsou,” he whispered. “Shinsou Hitoshi.”
Denki’s face lit up.
"I like your name, Shinsou! I'm Kaminari Denki!” He leaned closer with excitement. “Hey! Your eyes are purple, too!"
Hitoshi blinked at him before another rumble made him flinch.
"W-W-What do you mean…” he stammered, “...that the storm won't h-h-hurt me if y-you’re here?"
Denki let a few sparks dance across his fingers while Hitoshi watched in awe.
"How can lightning hurt someone who can make his own?" he laughed. "If it tries to get you, I'll jump in and send it back where it came from, like a real hero!"
The chime of Denki's laughter lingered in Hitoshi's ears, and, for the first time that evening, eased the tension in his shoulders. He thought momentarily, frowning.
"But you don't even know me," he replied. "Why would you save me?"
"Because that's what heroes do, silly. They help people. All people, even people they don’t know. And since I'm gonna be a hero some day, I can start with you!"
A smile tugged at Hitoshi’s lips.
"There's no way I could be a hero. I'm too shy. And my quirk isn’t any good for hero work."
"What's your quirk?" Denki asked, tilting his head to the side.
Hitoshi’s smile disappeared.
"It's...no. I'm not gonna say. People get upset when they find out.” He looked down at his hands. “It's a mental quirk. So, not really much use for a hero."
"I bet it would be awesome for hero work!” Denki insisted. “Not all heroes have flashy quirks. You should read about Eraserhead! I bet you'd like him."
"Never heard of him."
Another rumble rolled across the sky, quieter and farther away. Denki smiled.
"Sounds like the storm’s almost done. See? You did great!"
"I had a good distraction, I guess," Hitoshi murmured. "Why are you here anyway?"
Denki proudly showed off his bandaged knees.
"The pavement fought back when I fell off my skateboard. It threw me into some really mean gravel.” He grinned. “At least I didn't need stitches this time."
"This time?" Hitoshi asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Okay, so maybe I'm still working on my mad skateboarding skills.” Denki scratched the back of his head with a sheepish laugh. “But it'll be worth it some day.”
He hopped off the bed. “Anyway, I'll leave you alone now. You seem to be doing better and the storm’s over."
"Wait!" Hitoshi reached out and grabbed Denki's wrist. "Can...you stay?” he asked quietly, blushing. “Maybe until I'm asleep? I...I like your company."
It was completely out of his element to ask someone he’d known for only a few minutes to stay. Yet for reasons he couldn’t explain, he trusted this ray of sunshine.
Denki grinned widely.
"Totally!” He eagerly climbed back onto the bed. “Wanna snuggle?"
Hitoshi giggled. "Okay. I guess."
As the storm faded into the distance, two small boys fell asleep, curled up together in a hospital bed.
When Hitoshi woke the next morning, his new friend was gone.
Hitoshi's bare feet padded toward the adjacent room to see if maybe, just maybe, Denki was still there. He wanted to thank the other boy for helping him through the terrifying thunderstorm.
However, when he slid the door open, the room had already been cleaned. The bed was empty.
No blond hair. No bright smile. No Denki.
Hitoshi's heart sank.
What if I never see him again?
The thought alone made something deep inside his little chest ache. If he never saw Denki again, would Denki ever know how grateful he was for what he'd done?
I hope he knows he did a good job.