Chapter Text
The first thing Hitoshi Shinso noticed about Denki Kaminari was that he never shut up.
Not during training.
Not during lunch.
Not during class.
Not even at midnight, apparently.
“You look like you’re plotting a murder.”
Shinso blinked slowly, pulling one earbud out. “What?”
Denki stood in the doorway of the common room kitchen holding two convenience store drinks and smiling like they were already friends.
It was almost one in the morning.
Shinso stared at him for a second too long before looking back down at his phone.
“You always stare at people like that?” he asked.
“Only the cool mysterious ones.”
Shinso snorted quietly. “You’re annoying.”
“And yet,” Denki said, dropping into the chair across from him, “you didn’t tell me to leave.”
The room fell quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator.
Rain tapped softly against the dorm windows.
Shinso wasn’t really sure why he stayed there.
Normally, people made him tired. Conversations felt like balancing on a wire — one wrong response and suddenly they looked at him differently. Careful. Uneasy.
Like they remembered what his quirk could do.
But Denki just… kept talking.
About training.
About how Aizawa’s combat exercises were secretly designed by a demon.
About how Sero had nearly broken his arm trying to skateboard down a hallway.
It should’ve irritated him.
Instead, Shinso found himself listening.
Actually listening.
“And then Mina says,” Denki continued dramatically, “‘Kaminari, you cannot ollie over a laundry basket—’”
“You absolutely tried it anyway.”
“I absolutely tried it anyway.”
Shinso shook his head.
“You’re an idiot.”
Denki grinned. “You smiled.”
“I did not.”
“You literally did.”
“I think you’re hallucinating.”
“That’s possible,” Denki admitted. “I haven’t slept in, like, two days.”
For some reason, that got a laugh out of him.
A real one this time.
Denki froze like he’d just discovered something important.
“There it is,” he said quietly.
Shinso’s expression immediately flattened. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not making it weird!”
“You’re making it weird.”
“I just think you should laugh more.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Shinso looked away toward the rain-streaked windows.
People usually told him he should smile more in the same way people commented on bad weather.
Like something unpleasant they wished would change.
But Denki said it gently.
Like he actually meant it.
Like he wanted to be the reason.
And somehow that was worse.
“You say that to everybody?” Shinso muttered.
Denki leaned back in his chair, expression softening just slightly.
“Nah,” he said. “Just you.”
For the first time in a long while, Shinso didn’t know what to say.