Warning: This story contains heavy themes such as domestic abuse, suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, and depression. There will be a warning before each chapter containing these themes (this prologue isn't one of them) and a chapter summary at the bottom, but I just wanted to make that known.
Also, I reposted this chapter because I added quite a bit to it; the first time I felt like it was too short.


Chapter I


Some summer nights are just too beautiful for you to miss.

Sure, there will be some nights when the air is so swelteringly hot that it smothers you like an unforgiving blanket and causes sweat to pour out of your pores, making you want to go right back inside and grab a popsicle. Sometimes, there will be nights when swarms of mosquitos fill the air, attacking any unsuspecting victim they come across and forcing you to go inside early do to the red bumps blossoming on your skin.

No night is perfect; nothing is perfect. Denki had learned that a long time ago. But this night came just about close.

Sticking his head out of the second-story window, Denki allowed a small grin to cross his face as a cool night breeze blew his hair, the black zig-zag rippling like a soundwave. The soft chirping of crickets rippled through the night air, carrying their sweet melody to any ears lucky enough to hear it as the dark shadow of a small owl passed over the grass.

"Denki, sweetie? Have you started unpacking?" A tired voice yelled from downstairs, startling Denki out of his thoughts.

"Yeah mom, I just started," Denki lied, gripping the windowsill tighter as he allowed himself to perch on the brown cardboard box, unopened beneath him. For a moment, he allowed himself to pretend the box wasn't there, that his room wasn't filled with boxes. Unopened boxes, all staring at him intently, daring him to open them.

He knew he would have to open them at some point. He couldn't just leave a bunch of packed boxes in his "room"—he wasn't quite sure what counted as a room these days. His room back in Saitama Prefecture could hardly be called a room. He had grown to hate that place so much that some nights he would just sleep under the ironing board in the hallway instead of his own bed.

For a moment, Denki cringed slightly at the memory, screaming and crying flashing in his thoughts, if only briefly. A few seconds could say a thousand words if it was the right memory, and Denki wasn't willing to let it even get in one. Quickly pushing the thought out of his mind, Denki released a sigh, Denki gazed around his new "room", biting on the inside of his cheek.

Ugly dark green walls stared out at him, which Denki was already planning on painting a pale gold with a black accent wall the second he laid his eyes on it. It was bigger than his old room, with a large white framed window with glass panes that he could easily open, no problem. As soon as he stepped into his new room, he hadn't hesitated to open the windows and poke his head out for a breath of fresh air.

Denki smiled again. There was no such thing as a perfect night, but this came close.

"Denki, I thought you said you started packing!" A small voice suddenly said, and Denki cringed, the enjoyment he had felt with his head out the window instantly broken as he was yanked back to reality. Silently, Denki cursed himself for not locking the door as he turned around to face a little girl standing in the doorway.

"Aishun, please keep a little quieter," Denki said urgently as he turned around, lowering his voice to a whisper and putting his finger in front of his lips. He perked his ears, listening for his mother's angry shout at him not unpacking yet, but fortunately, there was none.

Still, Aishun Kaminari's gaze swept over the room, taking in all the untouched boxes stacked on top of one another like building blocks. As she understood what was happening, she glared at Denki, the ten-year-old standing with one eyebrow cocked and her arms crossed. "Mom said—"

"Yeah yeah, I know what mom said," Denki said, waving one hand dismissively. Sighing, he rubbed his temples. As much as he loved his sister, sometimes she could be a real pain. Even if she looked innocent enough, he knew first hand how evil she could be.

Long black hair fell from her head, straight as a stick with a bolt of yellow shooting through it and dark bangs covering her forehead. Small black wire-framed glasses sat comfortably on her face, outlining her glaring gold eyes, crackling with angry energy. However, a pair of blue pajamas with a book and the words I'd rather be reading displayed on the shirt and fluffy bunny slippers seemed to make her seem more like a cute, regular ten-year-old than she actually was.

Huffing, Aishun's glare deepened as Denki cut her off. "Well, it's not fair if I have to unpack my stuff the second we get home but you can just sit around on a box and look out the window!" She huffed angrily.

Denki just shrugged. "Well, life isn't fair, now is it?" He said, putting his hands on Aishun's shoulders and beginning to push out the door.

"Hey!" She cried angrily, and as she did, Denki felt a small shock blast his fingertips as a there was a sudden spark of blue from where he had touched Aishun. It was tiny, not enough to cause any real damage, but just enough to hurt as much as possible without actually being dangerous.

"Ow!" He cried, suddenly yanking his hand away and shaking it wildly as he tried to numb the pain, then whipped around to glare at Aishun, his eyes flashing. "I thought mom said you couldn't do that anymore!" He exclaimed.

Aishun merely shrugged. "Well, life isn't fair, is it Denki?" She said, a smirk crossing her lips. Denki stopped, holding his hand, and just shook his head. Well played, Aishun, he thought.

"Well if you tell mom that I didn't unpack, I'll tell her you zapped me with your weird motion energy stuff," he said, trying to mimic the glare Aishun always gave him whenever he did something he wasn't supposed to. He had a feeling it wasn't nearly as menacing, though.

Still, it was just enough to get under Aishun's skin, which was good enough to Denki. "I told you, it's not "weird motion energy stuff", it's stored kinetic energy!" She yelled, her hands balling into fists and her glasses slipping slightly off the tip of her nose. "And anyway, I'll keep your secret about whatever weird thing you have against unpacking, but if mom tries to come into your room, I won't exactly try to stop her," she huffed, stomping out of the room and slamming the door in her wake.

It took all of Denki's self-control and then some not to rush into the ten-year-old and burn off all her clothes as the mahogany door closed with a loud bang, vibrating the entire room. It wasn't that he had a weird thing against packing or anything like that; he just had a weird thing against unpacking all of this.

Sighing, Denki felt his anger at Aishun slowly melt out of him as he gazed around the room, cardboard boxes glaring back at him as if they had eyes of their own. Each of those boxes held their own memories, some good, some bad.

By unpacking the good memories, it was like they would nothing but sad reminders of the life he had away from his house, mostly his dad, back in Saitama Prefecture. There was his whole set of vintage Batman comic books that his mom had gotten him on his twelfth birthday, all from before he was even born. There was the tiny dreamcatcher Aishun had given him when she was six before she turned into a mini-monster. There was even the collar from his first (and only) dog, Haru, a Shiba Inu breed, who had died a few years ago.

He knew it was dumb to be so upset about it; he knew there were things like world hunger and wars in some distant country going on right now. But still, he couldn't help himself from feeling just a little bit discouraged.

Releasing a sigh, Denki stuck his head out the window. He really didn't want to think like this; just focusing on the negative all the time. Closing his eyes, he tried to take in the nighttime energy, breathing in the sounds of crickets chirping, the occasional hoot of an owl, and...something else.

Suddenly, Denki's eyes flew open, startled. If he could, his ears would have perked as the sudden sound surprised him, causing him to suddenly sit up straighter on the windowsill. He could have sworn...

There. There it was. It was some sort of odd sound, like the kind of melody you hear on the radio. Someone must be listening to music, he thought, squinting his eyes as he gazed out over the field. He wasn't quite sure who listened to music in a field at 11 P.M at night; in his mind, it followed the same lines of weird as hanging around an abandoned warehouse with a cigarette or in a graveyard.

If it had been somewhere like a garden or a forest, Denki would have never been able to see; but the only thing for what looked like a mile behind his neighborhood was long rows of grass. At one point they might have been used to farming; but if they had, the farmer hadn't been there in a while. The remains of what looked like vegetables or something had been eaten away by rabbits and weeds; and now all that was left was long grass and patches of dirt.

Squinting his eyes, Denki peered out from his window, looking for anything that looked out of the ordinary. He wasn't quite sure what; just anything that looked like it didn't belong in a field...there. Maybe not too far from his house, he saw what looked like a spot of dark purple, the moonlight gleaming off it and turning it a kind of paler purple-silver.

The rest of the person was hard to see, but Denki could tell they were a girl. Her silhouette was small and petite; tiny indentures of curves outlining her waist. Her legs were long and slim; the pale skin turning gray in the dim moonlight. Upon closer inspection, Denki realized that her hair was short cropped up to the base of her neck, waving slightly in the breeze.

In her arms, an odd pear-shape object was clutched, the end of it being held in her hand. Wait, that's a guitar, Denki realized, noticing the hole in the center and long, stiff neck.

The girl's arm and fingers moved in rapid procession as she strummed the strings, and though he couldn't see her lips, Denki could hear her voice carrying on the wind.

"Load up on guns, bring your friends,"
"It's fun to lose, and to pretend,"
"She's over-bored, and self-assured,"
"Oh no, I know a dirty word,"

As the words flowed from the girl's lips, Denki practically did a double-take. That wasn't radio music, that was her. He didn't recognize the song; but it sounded kind of a soft with rugged undertones; like it had some sort of dark secret. It sounded like the kind of music you hear when you're driving somewhere early in the morning; or you hear when they play at coffee shops. It was sweet, but also sad, and as the tune continued to strum, the girl continued to sing.

"With the lights out, it's less dangerous."
"Here we are now, entertain us."
"I feel stupid—ack, no that's not right," the girl suddenly said, stopping short as the music came to a sudden stop.

Pressing his lips together, Denki watched, interested as the girl reached into what looked like a jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook pad and a pencil, leaning over it and scribbling something on it.

"Hey! What are you working on?" Denki cried into the field, waving his hand in the air. For a moment, the girl's head shot up, as if she thought she had heard something, but then she scowled and turned back to her piece of paper.

She must not be able to hear me, Denki thought, leaning his head back inside the window. For a moment, he frowned, thinking of how he could get her attention. He didn't have a megaphone or anything like that, and he didn't think sending a message via paper airplane would work very well. Biting his lip, he racked his brain for ideas. Well, you could just go over there and talk to her, a voice whispered in the back of his head.

Denki pulled out his phone, glancing at the time. 11:16. It was late, but then again, he didn't have any plans of going to bed any time soon. Looking up again, Denki saw the girl again, still hunched over her notepad.

"Well I mean, it couldn't hurt," he thought to himself, grabbing his jacket from around his waist and shrugging it onto his shoulders. The whole time they had been driving there, Denki's mom had been saying to try and make some new friends and start over. Well mom, technically I'm doing what you said, Denki thought, but just in case, he peered at his mother's door, which was closed tight, soft snoring sounding from inside. The same went for Aishun; they must have both gone to bed.

Good. Quietly slipping down the stairs, making his footfalls as light as possible, Denki checked behind him one more time before slipping out the door into the night air.

His sneakers slapped on the sidewalk as he walked, but as he crossed over from pavement to grass, his footsteps became more silent and muffled, barely making a sound. As quietly as he could, Denki slowly stalked towards the girl, keeping from a small distance. Now that he was closer, Denki could make out more distinctive features.

Her eyes were the same pretty dark purple color as her hair; and somehow the moonlight managed to shine on it a kind of way that resembled a sound wave. A purple skirt with black fishnet stockings covered her legs, and a pair of black coverse boots rested on her feet. A black jacket billowing in the wind hung on her shoulders, the word Jirou embroidered on it in white thread. Curiously, Denki watched as the girl, who might've been Jirou, shoved the notebook back into her pocket and started to play again.

"With the lights out, it's less dangerous."
"Here we are now, entertain us."
"I feel stupid, and contagious."
"Here we are now, entertain us."
"A mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,"
"Yeah, hey."

"I'm worse at what I do best,"
"And for this gift I feel blessed."
"Our little group has always been,"
"And always will until the end."

As she concluded what sounded like the first verse, Denki was almost awestruck. It was apparent now why it had seemed like she was one the radio; she was just that good. Her voice was warm like honey; but nowhere near sugary-sweet levels. It was also kind of...hard, was the only way to put it. Kind of like a rock star with a pinch of sugar, Denki concluded.

As fingers strummed the last chord, Denki stood up and applauded. "WOO! That was awesome! Did you write that?"

As soon as Denki popped up, clapping and cheering, the girl Jirou's head shot up, her face turning white with shock. "Jesus—!" She cried suddenly, jumping up from her spot in the grass, and Denki knew that if his mom was there, she would have chastised her—his mother was extra religious.

The color draining quickly out of her face like water from her faucet, as Denki appeared Jirou clutched her guitar like it was a weapon; holding the neck with both hands like sword. She planted her feet firmly on the ground in a wide stance, and it looked like a pair of earbuds had flown up as she stood up so quickly, except they stayed there, hovering in the air threateningly.

As she held the guitar and what might have earbuds (but now Denki was starting to believe they might have been something else, like a quirk), like weapons, Denki held his hands up. Way to scare the living daylights out of her, he thought to himself.

"Uh, sorry to scare you," Denki said, shooting a small smile. Jirou only responded by twisting her face into and angry frown. Denki gulped; he wasn't quite sure what those earbuds could do; but he knew never to underestimate a quirk.

"It's just, I heard you playing from my bedroom window," he said, pointing with his thumb to his house behind him. "And I thought you sounded really good, so I thought I would say hi. I'm Denki Kaminari; I just moved here. I'm guessing you're Jirou?"

As Denki said her name, the girl seemed to turn even paler, if that her possible, but then flushed red. "Wh-h-how do you know my name?" She cried, moving her earbuds dangerously closer to his face. Denki bit his lip nervously.

"I, uh...saw it on your jacket," he said, pointing to the word, and Jirou glanced at it. "This is my dad's jacket; Jirou is a family name," she said, and Denki smiled. "So you're last name is Jirou? You could have just told me that. Could I know your first name, by any chance?"

"What? No!" Jirou cried, stepping forward. "It's creepy enough you know my last name! Now go away, before I blast out your eardrums!" She threatened, and at first Denki thought, I don't think she can play that loud, but then glanced at her earbuds, which were slowly inching closer and closer.

"I just wanted to say you were good, is all!" Denki cried, slowly backing away.

Jirou scowled. "Well sorry, but I don't like complete strangers just sneaking up on me like that!" She retorted, lowering her guitar to ball her hands into fists at her sides.

"Okay, okay, sorry about that. And anyways, I already told you. I'm Denki Kaminari, I live in that house over there, I just moved there—" he began, but Jirou cut him off, waving her hand in the air.

"Whatever! Look, Kuttle-bari, or whatever your name is, can you just, like, go? Please?" Jirou hissed, her purple eyes narrowing into slits. Denki sighed, looking back at Jirou. It was clear he wasn't getting anywhere; everything he said just seemed to make her angrier or more annoyed.

"Okay, okay. I'll go," Denki sighed, turning around and shoving his hands in his pockets, stalking back towards his house. "I'll leave you alone."

Only later on would Jirou find out that the last thing Denki said to her that night was a lie.


Hey guys! This is my first semi-serious BNHA fanfic, so I hope you guys like it! If you did like it or have any thoughts, please leave a comment! I love reading through them, they make me feel good inside knowing that others liked my story enough to take the time to leave a review!

Also, I just want to say that there is a chance the manga will release Denki's actual family sometime in the future, so if that does happen, just think of this as an alternate universe, which it kind of already is. Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed the story!