Jirou lay in the darkness, her breathing ragged. 

 

The city lights glowed softly behind the dark green curtains. Neon red, electric blue, and incandescent yellow melded together to form the silvery slivers that provided the only source of light in the room. Jirou wondered if she concentrated hard enough whether she would be able to disperse the white light into its separate components. 

 

Neon red. The far right traffic lights. Car tails. Motel vacancy signs. Gas station price boards. The pedestrian stop signals. 

 

Electric blue. The far left traffic lights. The Tokyo Skytree. The IC card readers. The borders of neon signs. 

 

Incandescent yellow. The headlights of old cars. The dimly lit pubs. The windows of residential units. 

 

Kaminari’s lightning. 

 

Jirou’s breath hitched at the thought. Her breathing picked up again. Aside from the occasional blaring traffic horns, heavy, unsteady breathing was the only sound in the room. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” Kaminiari’s voice suddenly rasped from beside her. He was still winded from their earlier activity. 

 

Jirou shifted on to her side. Dim light reflected off electric gold. Two inches. Too close. She closed her eyes. Sometimes Kaminari’s gaze was too much. Jirou felt if she wasn’t careful, he would drown her in them. Like a bear in honey. Too easy. Too eager. Fuck did Denki have any idea what he did to her? It was embarrassing. 

 

“Kyouka?” Kaminari asked when the silence stretched on for too long.

 

Jirou shuddered. She wasn’t used to it yet. Wasn’t used to her name rolling off his tongue like that. Like he was whispering a secret. A secret only they shared. Jirou wasn’t used to Kaminari yet. She didn’t think she’d ever be. 

 

“Lights. I was thinking about lights.” 

 

Kaminari didn’t like how Jirou’s eyes remained closed. He wanted to see the deep purple hues. The mystical color that didn’t quite match anything else in this world. Violet, lavender, lilac. No shade did it justice. They were distinctly Jirou. He could stare at them all day. And he wouldn’t care if he drowned. 

 

He touched her face gently. Jirou’s eyes fluttered open. And there it was. In the shabby light, he could just make it out. Brilliant as amethysts, but not amethyst. Not even close. 

 

“You’re a hundred times prettier than lights.” 

 

Jirou ducked her head. A wasted movement. Kaminari couldn’t see the flush spreading across her face anyway. Not in this darkness. It was too thick. The emotions between were thicker.

 

His words were sugar fondant. Too sweet to be true. But Jirou knew Kaminari. She could tell when he was serious. When he was joking. And Kaminari would never joke about this. Not when it came to her. 

 

“Shut up,” she mumbled, burying her face in his hand. 

 

“It’s true!” Kaminari protested, not liking how Jirou was dodging his sentiment, “I’m not lying.”  

 

She stilled her burrowing, then looked up at him shyly. 

 

“I didn’t say you were.” 

 

Kaminari couldn’t help himself. She was so cute when she got like this. When she chose to accept herself. When she chose to trust what he said about her. It wasn’t easy. Kaminari knew it took a long time to get here. To this point where Jirou didn’t shy away from his touches. Where she didn’t throw insults at him. Where she let her walls down. Where she willingly lay out her vulnerabilities. It took a long fucking time to get here. And Kaminari knew half of it was his fault. Because he also didn’t want to get hurt. So, he had hid his intentions behind cheeky comments and wanton lust. Because it never meant anything to him. Because it was easier to play pretend than risk rejection from the only one who meant anything. 

 

But he had hurt her. And, in turn, she had hurt him. And when the hurt got too much, they broke. Kaminari vowed he would never put her through anything like that again. He wouldn’t be able to take it. She wouldn’t be able to either. So, they built it from the ground up. And although sometimes old habits did die hard, they were willing to try. They were willing to trust. They were willing to see where this would take them. 

 

And it turned out to be here. Here, in their high-rise apartment five years later, laying naked together under layers of sheets that were too thin, under layers of sweat that left their skin glossy and chilled, under layers of darkness, heavy breathing, and static air charged with a million unnamed emotions that threatened to consume them. 

 

“Denki?” Jirou called when she caught him staring at her, almost trancelike. Possessed. Bewitched.

 

Oh. Kaminari couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed her. She responded, like a live wire only he could touch. Her cheeks, her eyes, her neck. Anywhere the blanket wasn’t covering. She was sweeter than candy and soft, so fucking soft. Kaminari swore he could get drunk off her scent. 

 

Jirou moaned softly. Kaminari’s touch was electric. She had never made these noises for anyone else. Ever. She was always too embarrassed to. Even the first time they had sex, she was quiet as a mouse. It had unnerved Kaminari. But he knew Jirou. He knew when she needed a confidence boost, and he knew exactly how to deliver it. 

 

Kaminari dragged Jirou closer, running his hands along her blanket-clad figure. When he brushed his thumb over Jirou’s hardening nipple. She keened. 

 

“Denki,” she panted. 

 

He hummed a question against her neck, sucking on her weak spot: the soft, smooth, pliable flesh just below her right chin. 

 

He felt her swallow. Hard. 

 

Grinning, he roughly pinched her nipple, pulling harder than what he knew felt good, then twisting it slowly, back and forth, between his fingers. 

 

Jirou gasped. 

 

“Denki… wait,” she breathed. 

 

Kaminari regarded Jirou’s face, she had brought an arm up to cover her eyes, and her mouth was parted, breath ragged. He knew if he reached up then to touch her cheek, it would be hot. Hot with that cute fever-like blush he was weak for. Fuck, she was beautiful. Kaminari didn’t want to wait. 

 

He trailed open mouth kisses all the way back up to her mouth. And he fully kissed her there too. His tongue slid in uninvited, but Jirou didn’t resist. She moaned against him as his tongue caressed her mouth. Not an inch left unexplored. But when his hands ghosted down her torso to gently cup at her heat, she startled. Her hands flew to his shoulder, pushing at him with more force than necessary. Kaminari got the hint. He broke the kiss, panting against her. 

 

“Too much?” He asked, molten eyes filling with worry.  

 

Jirou tapped her forehead against his, a gesture meant to reassure. She shook her head against him.

 

“Too soon,” she whispered. She was still sore down there. Still too sensitive. 

 

“Ah.” Kaminari kissed Jirou’s cheek. As much as he wanted to continue, he understood. And he wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t going to push Jirou into something she wasn’t comfortable with. 

 

Kaminari wrapped her in his arms, tugging her into his chest. Jirou burrowed deeper into his warmth. She didn’t know when this became the norm. When curling up beside Denki became familiar and not strange. She loved where they were at now. No charades. No facades. Just honesty and respect. She didn’t think it was possible. Not for herself, and definitely not for that golden-haired playboy. But Fate proved her wrong, and although she had resisted every chance of getting tangled in Her red web, Jirou inexplicably and hopelessly found herself entangled with him. She fell hard. And the deeper she fell, the tighter his golden threads wound, binding them together, looping and twisting with her own purple threads. Around and around. Until it wound so tight that it was hard to breathe. But who needed air when she could have electricity. 

 

Jirou couldn’t get enough of Kaminari sometimes. His jokes, his laugh, his perverseness, his idiocy. She wanted to know every part of him. So much so that it scared her. And even now, as they lay together, as physically close as two people could get without becoming one, she wanted to know more. What other secrets would she discover. What other secrets would he let her in on. What else of him could she have. His past, his present, his future. She wanted it all. 

 

“Denki, tell me about your family.”

 

Kaminari wasn’t expecting the question, but he wasn’t reluctant to answer either. 

 

He hummed, trying to find words to describe something he innately experienced. 

 

“They live in Chiba. We own a flower shop there. My mom’s quirk has something to do with sunlight, so I guess it made sense.”

 

“And your dad?” 

 

“My dad does the accounting. He’s better at math. But my sister tries to mess with him, because she doesn’t want him to find out that she’s been overspending on clothes.”

 

Jirou couldn’t believe her ears.

 

“Wait, Denki, you have a sister?” she couldn’t hide the awe coloring her voice.

 

Kaminari chuckled.

 

“Yeah, I have a sister. What’s it to you?”

 

“Is she older or younger?”

 

“Older. I think she might be getting married soon.”

 

“What’s her name?”

 

“Mizuki. She has a water quirk. Fitting isn’t it.” [1] 

 

She smiled. Water and lightning. What a combination. 

 

“Do you guys get along?”

 

“She’s like seven years older than me. I used to think she was so annoying. Like a second mom I never asked for. But now I’m grateful, because growing up would have been so much harder without her.”

 

“How come you never mentioned her?”

 

“You never asked. And besides, she’s living her own life in Chiba with her soon to be fiancé. She doesn’t have time to babysit me anymore. I have you for that now.”   

 

Jirou nicked him in the side with her headphones. A counter to his jest.  

 

“Ow.” Kaminari squirmed. He pouted. He didn’t like surprise attacks.

 

Seeing his hunched-up form, Jirou sighed before gently rubbing the area she had attacked.

 

Kaminari visibly relaxed. Her touch was electric. Kaminari wondered if it was possible for your quirk to start transferring to someone the longer you were with them. He knew Jirou would call him an idiot if he voiced his thoughts. So, he stayed silent. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot to want to ruin this moment. He thought he would die if Jirou stopped touching him.   

 

“You’re such a handful sometimes,” Jirou feigned annoyance. 

 

Kaminari purred against her. 

 

“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” 

 

Jirou couldn’t argue against that.

 

“Do you have any other siblings I should know about?” Jirou asked, stilling her hands.

 

Kaminari didn’t like that Jirou’s movements stopped. He reached down to grab her fingers. 

 

“No, just the one.” 

 

As Denki played with her hands, lacing and unlacing them with his own, Jirou thought up more questions. She wanted to know what else Denki had been hiding from her.

 

“Did you have any pets growing up?”

 

Kaminari paused in thought. His thumb idly brushed over her knuckles. 

 

“Does a rock count? I liked collecting rocks as a kid for some reason.”

 

“Not stag beetles?” 

 

“No, I was never any good at that. Rocks were easier.” 

 

“Did you name your rock?”

 

Kaminari smiled.

 

“Unko. Cause it was brown and looked like poo.” [2] 

 

Jirou snickered. That sounded like something a younger Kaminari would do. 

 

“I think your naming sense got better, Chargebolt.” 

 

He groaned, pulling her into his arms. He wrapped his hands around her waist, and nuzzled her hair. He loved the scent of her shampoo. 

 

“Stop, you’re going to make me hard. You know I love it when you call me that.”

 

Jirou kissed his cheek. She melted. Kaminari could be so damned cute sometimes. 

 

“What else?” Her eyes glowed with fervent curiosity. 

​

Kaminari’s gaze softened. He didn’t mind sharing his history. Not at all. He was just thrilled someone wanted to hear it. No, not just someone. Jirou. 

 

“What else do you want to know?”

 

“How did your mom and dad meet?” 

 

Kaminari had to think about that one. He had never asked his parents directly. But these stories often had a way of getting told once in a blue moon, especially around the dinner table, during large family gatherings.  

 

“At work. They were working a government job but in different departments. Found out corporate wasn’t for them so they got hitched and moved to the suburbs.” 

 

Jirou hummed.

 

“What’s the best part of the suburbs?”

 

“The space for sure. There was so much room to just run.”

 

“Was that your favorite thing to do as a kid, then? Run?”

 

“Actually, no. I spent most of my free time playing video games. I was obsessed. I could go for hours without sleep. And the best part was that I could play even during prolonged blackouts. We had those quite often actually. I think it was because we lived so close to the ocean. The wind out there was crazy.”

 

Maybe because it was Kaminari who was telling her this, but Jirou was suddenly reminded of a specific well-read author. Hemmingway also lived by the sea. Who knew Kaminari had so much in common with an author whose name Jirou had revamped for him on a whim. 

 

“Say, Kaminari, do you have a favorite book?” Jirou knew it was a long shot, but Kaminari had recognized the allusion she was making when she had jokingly supplied him that name [3]. Maybe he would surprise her. 

 

Kaminari frowned. He caught how Jirou reverted back to using his surname. She would slip up like that sometimes. He didn’t like the distance it created, even if it was invisible. But he also knew Jirou wasn’t doing it on purpose. She just wasn’t used to it yet. Calling him Denki. As much as he loved the sound of his first name spilling off her tongue, he was kind of glad she didn’t use it all the time. He didn’t want the novelty to wear off just yet. He liked being in this early stage of a relationship. This early stage where first names still held a kind of intimacy. This early stage that somehow still hasn’t quite fizzled out despite being together for three years. It should have been familiar to them by now. But it wasn’t. And sometimes Kaminari thought it never would be.

 

“Honestly, Jirou, do I seem like the type to like reading?” 

 

Jirou chuckled. Of course, her suspicions were right. Why did she think otherwise? She decided to be generous and provided the boy with an out. 

 

“Manga counts.” 

 

He hummed in thought.

 

“One Piece. I liked the pirate king concept.”

 

Jirou chuckled.

 

“I think all the boys liked that concept.” 

 

“Did you ever have a secret hideout?” 

 

“Not really, I mean, I didn’t build it or anything, and it’s not really a secret, but I did have a favorite place I liked to go to as a kid. It’s this cavern-like thing near the beach that you could only get to during low tide. I’ll take you there sometime. I think you’ll like it. The acoustics are great.” 

 

Jirou liked the sound of that. The thought of Kaminari making these plans that involved her. Making room for her. Like he wanted her to be in his future. Like he saw her there. It made her smile. 

 

“Where else do you want to take me?” 

 

“Disneyland for sure. And my family’s flower shop. Oh, and this sweet little café that does live music and karaoke every Friday. We definitely have to sing together, we’re going to blow them away.” 

 

As Jirou listened to Kaminari talk excitedly about the future, she focused on the present. The way Kaminari’s eyes glowed with a child-like keenness. The way his chest rumbled when he talked. The way his hands would make random gestures in the air, as if he didn’t realize or care that no one could properly see them in the dark. The way he always had to have one hand touching her, as if making sure she was still there, as if making sure she wasn’t going to bolt off somewhere. Jirou had a habit of doing that. Especially when it got to be too much. When she couldn’t handle her emotions. She would get scared, and she would run. But she never got far. Because no matter where she ran, no matter how far. Kaminari was always a heartbeat behind her. Always.

 

“Oh yeah, and for New Years, we have to visit that shrine on the mountain. I swear they make the best amazake.” [4]

 

Jirou felt her heart squeeze. New Years was more than six months away. The cherry blossoms weren’t even in full bloom yet. And this doofus beside her was already talking about next year. Jirou didn’t like to plan too far ahead into the future. Because it was hard. Because no one really knew what direction life was going to take. What curveballs it would throw. But as of now, she was certain of one thing. She wanted to spend it with Kaminari. This boy who had seen her for who she was. Who fully accepted every aspect, even the ones she couldn’t accept herself. Who would chase her to the ends of the universe just to prove it. 

 

“Oh and for –“ 

 

“Denki,” Jirou called out, unable to contain herself. 

 

Kaminari stopped talking and looked down at the girl in his arms. The girl he was so in love with he wasn’t sure why the entire world wasn’t fighting him to be in his spot right here right now.

 

“Yeah?”

 

A beat.

 

“I love you.”

 

Two beats. 

 

“So much.”

 

He caved.

 

“I love you too.” 

 

He leaned down and kissed her then. Neither of them had been prepared for this. Neither of them had ever thought that their lives could become so intimately entwined with one another. Neither of them believed it possible, to find someone who was willing to break down the walls they loved to put up. There was a lot of miscommunication, a lot of yelling, a lot of crying, a lot of stony silences and nasty pitches. But they had made it here. To this moment where their feelings were one. In perfect alignment. In perfect harmony.

 

And they knew, come high waters or maelstroms, there was no way either of them were going to give this love up without a fight. 

 

Not a chance.