The Night We Met (KamiShin)

Someday

"It sucks doesn't it?"
Kaminari folded his arms over his chest, letting an exasperated puff leave his lips. His head turned slightly, not even ninety degrees. There, his eyes fell upon a far table where none other than Hitoshi Shinso was sat. He could see a very small group of girls trying to spark up a conversation with him, but clearly to no avail.
The last month had been an absolute nightmare for Denki. He couldn't remember a day where he hadn't cried. One way or another, tears always managed to slither their way out of his eyeballs. He felt as though he could irrigate entire rice fields with how much he'd wept— fill entire community pools even.
Never in his life had he felt so small. It seemed as though everyone around him had grown a meter or two, leaving him behind as powerless and short. He was useless— a burden even. And it was more than clear. His friends had slowly scooted away from him. They had languidly drifted away, not wanting anything to do with his presence, or so he thought.
Some days, he just didn't have the energy to drag himself out of bed. The black hole that was his plush mattress didn't want him escaping its jaws. If he left the house, it wouldn't be able to absorb all his energy. He was already dying, but being stuck in that room only took his years away faster.
"Yoo-hoo! Earth to Kaminari!"
Denki's gaze changed target, over to his pink-haired friend. Her skin was slightly tanned, and wore a bright, cherry gloss over her pout. Denki smiled apologetically at her, giving an embarrassed grin.
"Sorry Mina, what were you saying?" He answered.
She crossed her arms, scoffing playfully. She clicked her tongue with her nose in the air, rolling her eyes sassily.
"I was giving my opinion on your pitiful experience, but clearly your mind is somewhere else," she sighed.
A raven-haired boy on Denki's other side began giggling. Patting Denki's shoulder, he whispered in his ear.
"He doesn't seem very interested in females, does he?"
Denki smiled.
"You're completely right, Sero. It's because— as I'd like to believe— he only has eyes for one!" Denki sung boastfully.
"And you seriously still expect to be the one after your little drama show?"
The raspy voice came from the other side of the table, where a boy with spiky, sandy hair sat in a terrible position. He slouched over the table, chin resting on his palm as he took a sip of his apple juice. A red-haired boy next to him elbowed him lightly, complaining about his blunt statement.
Denki was taken back. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks going pink as he recalled the night of the kiss.
"Well... uh..."
"Don't listen to him, Kaminari. I bet he's just as interested in you as he was in the beginning," the redhead stammered.
Denki's mood changed. He didn't feel like happily ranting on about how he'd embarrassed himself for life. He didn't feel like sticking grains of rice to Sero's hair, and he definitely didn't feel laughing with Ashido any longer. They didn't know.
They couldn't know.
Surely they'd push him away just like his parents did. They wouldn't want to be friends with him any more if they knew the truth. After all, if they didn't want to hang around him now because of his negative aura, they would definitely not want to be around him once they found out about his personal life.
"Oh, cheer up, bud! He's the one who kissed you! You can't just forget something like that so quickly!" Sero reassured.
"Actually, you can. Why do you think there are such things as one-night-stands?" The sandy-blonde retorted.
Denki thought he heard the shattering of his own heart. He was probably right. Nobody would want to be near him if they knew... Having nobody was for the best.
The redhead slapped the blond's bicep, way harder this time.
"Katsuki! You can't just say that to him!"
"What? It's the truth!"
Denki gulped. He couldn't swallow down the tough knot that had formed in his throat, like a parasitic growth one couldn't destroy easily. He bit his thumbnail, forcing a nonchalant smile.
In reality, his heart had dropped all the way down to his feet at his brutally honest friend's statement. He knew it was true because it hurt.
"Y-Yeah, Kiri, Bakugo is right. He's probably forgotten all about me. After all, that was the last day we had a proper conversation! It's been so awkward between us, and today we haven't even talked," Denki sighed.
But the next thing his friends said went unheard. His head began to feel like a balloon— as if the world were randomly tilting on its axis. His hands began to feel swollen, and his lungs felt as though they'd been filled with shards of rubber. He didn't hear them asking if he was alright. He didn't hear them as he sluggishly left the table.
A loud ringing in his ears disrupted him from all external activities, yet as he left the cafeteria, he thought he'd seen Hitoshi staring intensively at him.
Before he knew it, he was in the men's restroom, regurgitating his lunch from his system as the world continued to spin. The high-pitched noise in his ears— like the screaming of an alarm clock— refusing to cease. Hot tears ran down his face as the acidic substance left his throat, abandoning behind a sour taste. They couldn't know. No matter what he did, he had to make sure to keep in hidden— buried meters underground in his mind.
He wiped his mouth with a bit of toilet paper and gagged one last time before marching out of the stall, eyes burning with disgust and emotion. He was scared.
He felt as though a thousand hands were grasping for him, pulling him back into an abyss of darkness. What terrified him and filled him with anxiety the most was the fact that they'd eventually succeed. He always imagined it like a bottomless ball pit at a child's pizza place. Colorful and bright on the surface, but the deeper one sunk, the more the plastic balls began to rot. They'd cave in and wilt away, like the remaining skin on a corpse's hand. Like roses in November.
And for the first time ever, he prayed to the sky that he'd die sooner than expected. All he wanted was to fade away, not having to live with the suspense of when and where it would happen. That or he wished he could be magically cured. To wake up happy and healthy— that's what he truly wanted.
He hated having to live with that burden. He hated not being able to do whatever he wanted. He'd been missing out on so much. He'd been left behind.
As he left the stall, his arm bumped into someone else's. He quietly mumbled an apology, not wanting to open his mouth more due to the bad breath he'd managed to collect. He didn't look up. Not that he cared too much anyways. It was probably just a tall third year— someone insignificant to his life. But then he felt a hand on his shoulder, very softly pulling him back. He turned his tired gaze up, only to meet with the person he didn't really want to see.
"You okay?" Shinso asked.
Denki gulped. He smiled weakly and nodded.
"No you're not. Wanna skip class?" The indigo-haired boy asked.
Denki froze.
"But you never skip class, Toshi! You're the top of your class—"
"—I can make an exception."
And he did. The pair snuck out of the building, quietly sneaking to the courtyard. Behind a big, concrete bench they hid, covering themselves with a shadow provided by a nearby tree.
Denki scooted away from the other, making sure there was noticeable distance between. The taller did nothing to fix this dilema, for he just pulled out a small box from his school bag and began eating its contents. After quite a few minutes, the blond noticed that Shinso was doing nothing to solve the awkward atmosphere between them. He just sat there, eating in silence.
"If you're not gonna talk to me, why'd you pull me out here?" Denki asked.
Shinso shrugged.
"You looked quite agitated. I thought you needed a breather," Shinso replied between bites.
"That's lame. You skipped too," Denki huffed, shuffling further away from the other.
"There's been a lot on my mind recently," the other answered.
Denki raised an eyebrow playfully, turning his crossed legs towards his friend.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
Another shrug.
"You know... stuff. By the way, your friends came up to me a few minutes ago... asked me some pretty weird stuff. Any idea why that could be?"
Denki stopped, almost dropping his backpack on the ground. His hands began to shake nervously, as the image of Shinso before him began to melt. The world was spinning again, and everything began to feel like a tide pool of confusion and regret.
"Wh- What did they ask you?" Denki stuttered, feeling his heart shrinking.
Shinso turned to him, with an unreadable expression displayed across his face. Was it delight? Was it exasperation? Denki couldn't tell, and it bothered him to the bone.
"They asked me if I like you."
His words echoed through Denki's head, like a bloodcurdling scream deep inside a cave. He could feel tears running down his face. Hands trembling, he touched his cheek and gasped as he felt the moisture. Shinso's expression changed— to one he could actually read. It was one Denki was all too familiar with.
Fear.
It had consumed him— completely embraced him, from his body to his soul. He felt as though he'd slipped away, no longer able to cling to the little life he had left.
He noticed Shinso's hand growing closer to his face— to caress him and tell him that everything was alright. To tell him that he indeed liked him. But of course, that's just what Denki assumed. His fantasies never came true. Because if they did, he wouldn't be dying.
The blond slapped the other's hand away, getting up and shooting out of the courtyard like a European train late on schedule. Denki Kaminari couldn't do many things. Medically, his condition had put so many restrictions on his actions for so many years.
But at that moment, he didn't care. He ran as fast as his slim legs could take him. The few people in the halls stared at him in confusion and awe. He could hear some teachers scolding him— ordering him to get back to class. However, his brain shut out all external conversations, leaving space for one thought and one thought only: was he really alive?
He pushed the main doors opened, as acid-like tears gushed out of his eyes like waterfalls, colliding with the cruel tides of the ocean. As he ran, he could feel warm air hitting his skin. How strange. He'd never really paid attention to how warm or cool certain places were. But it seemed as though his school was much colder than the icy autumn wind messing with his blond head.
He kept running, his impecable shoes becoming untidy as he stepped in muddy puddles. It must have been one or two kilometers worth of escaping before he decided to stop, catching his breath. He panted heavily, gripping the fabric over his legs as he bent down. At that moment, he realized something.
In shock, the blond placed his hand over his chest, staring at it wide-eyed. He was alright.
He dropped to his knees, sobbing loudly as he hugged his body close. Hysterical laughter escaped his lips as he cried, receiving multiple stares from tranquile passerby's.
His senses had never been more on edge. He could see everything– smell everything— feel everything. The smell of rain soaking into the bark of the trees. The pale, endless sky and its beautiful, unique glimmer. The way his own fingers felt against his skin, hot and full of life. The sounds his organs made as they floated about inside his body— the humming of his heart as he breathed heavily. The loud, desperate footsteps getting closer and closer.
Footsteps.
Denki jumped in fear, flinching as he turned his head towards the sound. In the far distance, he could barely make out a boy with indigo hair, sprinting after him. It made him angry. He wasn't about to get his newfound power taken away from him. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it while living as much as possible.
With a sudden impulse of spontaneous energy, Denki began to run once more, except this time, he had a destination in mind. The truth was, he had no idea where he was going. Yet it worried him. Did he need to know where he'd end up?
However, it all stopped having much importance as he saw the metro station coming closer and closer. There were so many things he hadn't seen yet. He was young and vulnerable— yet in those moments, he realized that he couldn't let his weaknesses rule him. There were still so many places to explore! So many people to meet!
He couldn't depend on his pitiful crush forever. Shinso could only give him so much emotional experience— but what about physical? His eyes had not yet laid themselves upon the many lustrous wonders of the world— hell, he hadn't even left the radius of his city before!
Six more months.
Six more months.
Those three words were screamed at him over and over, like a scratched record unable to stop. But he could change that. He could be the one to move the needle— to allow the beginning of a new song!
"It ends here," he sobbed quietly, a smile plastered across his face.
He looked back, loosing Shinso in the crowd. But before he did, they locked eyes for a second, from very far away.
He laughed, as the metro's doors slid open. He decided he wanted to go somewhere he'd never gone before. Somewhere completely different from what he was used to. He wanted to leave the city behind— have it burn to the ground for all he cared. He didn't need that dirty town anyways. No, he wanted something else.
He climbed onto the vessel, smiling back one last time.
"From now on, I'm nobody's toy! Not even my own!"

This chapter is super weird, I'll admit. Firstly because it's not Hitoshi's POV. But it's quite important because it's gonna help develop the next few chapters so it's kinda like a filler/detonator? The next one will be really heckling long. (unedited)