Chapter Text
His classmates were calling his name, but Denki bolted out the front door of the dorms. Rain had started to fall, his foot skidded on a wet stone, and he nearly lost his balance for a second but kept going.
“Kaminari!”
Kirishima was right behind him, but he couldn’t stop. Adrenaline had flooded his body as he ran, mind swimming with too many thoughts.
“Hey, man, come on!” A hand grabbed his wrist and he turned—whether to fight or run he didn’t know—and he found himself pulled in against a familiar, sturdy body.
“You’re okay,” Kirishima said, wrapping both arms around him. “You’re okay, man. It’s just me.”
“K-Kiri?”
“I’ve got you, bro. It’s okay.”
Denki gave a strangled sob. “What did I just do?”
“It was friggin awesome man, that’s what you did.”
He couldn’t stop the tears now, and he was shaking so hard he might never stop. “What did I do?” he asked again. “I just…everyone knows now. I told them…why did I…?”
“That was the manliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Kirishima replied. “And if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. Okay?”
Denki shook his head. Why did he do that? He could have walked away. Bakugou was already handling the situation. Why did he snap like that, in front of everyone?
“Kaminari!” Iida’s voice echoed out across the yard. Denki flinched against Kirishima—at this point he was pretty sure his friend’s hold was the only reason he was still standing. Pounding footsteps approached them, skidded to a halt.
“Kaminari?” Iida said gently, resting a hand on Denki’s back. “As class representative, I’d like to thank you for trusting us with this important information. You are a fine example of the courage and integrity that sets class 1-A apart from the rest of the school, and we’re grateful to count you as one of our treasured classmates.
“And as your friend,” he continued, “I would like to continue to offer my acceptance and support. No matter how you started, I’m proud to see the man you are becoming. You’ll be a great hero someday, Denki Kaminari, and I would be honored to still call you my friend.”
“Kaminari! Iida!” Yaoyorozu called out to them, her lighter steps squishing in the wet grass. She produced a wide umbrella and opened it over the four of them to shield them from the rain. “You shouldn’t be out in the rain like this, let’s go back inside. Everyone’s worried.”
He finally pulled away from Kirishima to turn back toward the dorms, only to be ambushed by a smaller figure who wrapped him up in a hug that was almost as tight as Kirishima’s.
“You’re amazing,” Uraraka whispered. “We all love you, okay? Don’t forget that.” She dashed away after that, and he was a little surprised to see her walking with Jirou toward the main campus.
“Jirou?” he called. She turned a little and waved with one hand, the other wrapped in a towel. “What happened?”
“She’s fine.” Bakugou had joined them, arms crossed and face set in an unreadable expression. “The damn pervert just broke her hand with his face, that’s all.” His gaze flicked over to Denki, his expression never changing. “You good?”
“I don’t know.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Come on, Sparky. The extras are waiting.”
He nodded and trudged after Bakugou, flanked by Kirishima and Yaoyorozu, who was still holding the umbrella. Then Bakugou’s words caught up with him and he jerked his head up. “Wait a sec…are you saying Jirou punched Mineta? In the face?”
Iida groaned and Yaoyorozu muffled a giggle behind one hand. Bakugou snorted. “Who knew Ears had it in her? Didn’t even pass out when her hand snapped.”
He wished he could say he was sorry he missed that, but in truth he felt a little sick at the thought. Mineta had been awful and crossed a line, but Denki still didn’t like the idea of his friends fighting like that. It felt too much like home, where every disagreement turned into a shouting match—or worse.
“Kaminari!” They were barely back inside the dorms before a short, purple-haired body had latched around Denki’s waist, blubbering and sobbing as he talked. Mineta’s words were almost unintelligible, but Denki managed to pick up that his friend was apologizing. He still felt a little apprehensive around him, so when he didn’t return Mineta’s hug Bakugou grabbed the shorter boy by the collar and hauled him off.
Ashido was there next, looping her arm through his to tug him toward the tables in the common area. “We’re so proud of you, you know,” she whispered. “Come on; Midoriya’s got an idea.”
Midoriya, Sero, and Tsu were gathered around one end of one of the tables. Tsu was inspecting some of the envelopes Sero had kept, while the boys had their heads together and were poring over one of Yaoyorozu’s big reference books. Midoriya looked up when they approached, determination glinting in his eyes.
“We have an idea,” he announced, as the others started to sit around the table. “Yaoyorozu, do you think you could make one of these?” He slid the book over to her as she settled down next to Denki, and Denki peered over her arm to see that it was open to a section about surveillance cameras.
“You want to put a camera in the locker room?” Yaoyorozu asked, scandalized.
“What? No!” Midoriya waved his hands, face going beet red. “No! Not that…see the third one down? The little one?” He leaned across the table to point to one of the entries in the book. “I was thinking we could hide it in Kaminari’s shoe locker, with a motion sensor so it gets a picture any time the locker’s opened.”
“We could do that?” Denki asked. He hadn’t even thought about putting a camera in his shoe locker. Mr. Aizawa had said the surveillance cameras in the entry hall hadn’t caught anything, since whoever was leaving the notes did it during the busiest times. He was still reviewing them every time Denki reported a note, but so far they’d found nothing.
“A motion sensor would be too big,” Yaoyorozu said. She rolled up her sleeve and concentrated, and a device a little bigger than a pencil eraser began to form. “A photosensor would work. The camera would take a picture every time the sensor is exposed to light.”
“I was thinking we could hide the camera in some fake spiderwebs in the corner,” Midoriya continued. “If anyone noticed it, they would just think Kaminari’s locker has a spider in it.”
“How does it work?” Denki asked. Yaoyorozu had produced a second device, this one a little smaller than her thumbnail. It kind of looked like a ridged silver sticker with a wire coming out one end.
“The camera is too small to send the data, so we’ll have to remove it to check it,” she explained. “It has enough memory for a few days’ worth of pictures, since you don’t need to access your locker more than twice a day.”
“And you think this will work?”
He met Midoriya’s gaze, and the other boy gave him a determined smile. “If it doesn’t, we’ll find something else.”
“We’ve got your back, man,” Kirishima said, slinging an arm around Denki’s shoulders. “You can count on us.”
…
He wished he could say he’d slept better last night than he had in weeks, but Denki’s insecurities still followed him to bed. Despite his classmates’ support and reassurances, there was still an awful pit of dread in his stomach. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the entire class (minus Todoroki, who was still in the hospital) supporting him.
Even Mineta, who’d been apologizing and groveling half the night. Denki had a feeling he wouldn’t be buying his own lunch for at least a month, judging by the purple-haired boy’s words.
Still, he felt a little wary when he finally went downstairs for breakfast, nodding in greeting to his classmates as he dropped into the chair next to Kirishima. Bakugou put a plate down in front of him without a word, and Denki let the morning conversation wash over him as he focused on eating.
Was it really okay? Just like that?
“Oh, hey, don’t forget this,” Kirishima said suddenly, setting something down next to Denki’s plate. “Yaoyorozu made them for everyone.”
It was a pin in the shape of UA’s logo, colored in stripes of blue, pink, and white. Denki’s eyes pricked with tears, and when he looked up he realized all of his friends were wearing an identical one on the collars of their shirts.
Kirishima wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. “If someone has a problem with you, they have to deal with all of us. No one messes with class 1-A.”
He couldn’t even speak. He held the pin in one hand, emotions overwhelming him. With shaking fingers, he pinned it to the collar of his shirt, offering his friends a trembling smile. “Thanks, guys.”
Maybe it really was okay after all.