Chapter II

Four days. It had been four days.

Four days since Denki and his family had moved into the city of Musutafu, Japan. Four days since Denki had seen the girl, who was apparently called "Jirou" singing in the field and had almost gotten impaled by her earbud-earlobes. Four days since Denki had laid down in his bed, thinking about her even as he fell asleep. Looking back, she just seemed kind of...interesting. Most people would be pleased by someone complimenting them like that, but she seemed to want nothing else except for him to get away.

She was kind of cute though, Denki had thought as he had slowly fallen asleep. Then he smiled, shaking his head. He thought that about almost every girl he met; either she had a cute face, or cute legs, or cute hips, or cute anything, really. He had just gotten used to thinking like that; it was almost a reflex. Still, that hadn't stopped her from being the last thing he had thought of as he had fallen asleep.

He had seen her in the field the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. The second day, he had sat in his room, conveniently flipping through one of his old Batman comics instead of unpacking, when a sound has floated in through his bedroom window. In all honesty, he had purposely left it open, hoping to hear Jirou again. The music had actually been really good, like, play-it-on-the-radio good.

Sure enough, at about 10:30 at night, he had heard the same voice carrying in from the field. He didn't even have to look out the window to see if it was her or not; he knew that voice, and anyways figured no one else would go into a field just to sing. Still, he had gone anyways, and sure enough, had seen the same dark purple hair standing out against the field, her back half turned to him.

The same wooden guitar that had been there last night had sat in her hand, looking as if it belonged in her lap more than anything else. The music had started out with a few simple chords, rhythmic and calming, yet still holding a promise of being upbeat. After about 30 seconds of this, Jirou had started, singing slow.

"Listen to the wind blow, watch the sunrise."
"Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies."

Suddenly, the beat picked up, and Jirou started to add in a few more notes, keeping the same pace. However, the different guitar chords made it sound more upbeat; more uplifting.

"And if you don't love me now,"
"You will never love me again."
"I can still hear you saying,"
"You would never break the chain.¹"

Her voice was full of emotion, her whole body moving as she played, not just her lips and her fingers. She put emphasis and feeling into every word she played, leaning forward and moving around as she strummed, nodding her head, and letting her earbuds fly everywhere. Denki had almost done a double-take; it was like the girl he had met and the girl who was singing were two entirely different people. One was angry and cold; the other was loud and passionate. He could practically feel her energy from where he sat; almost like it was contagious.

And of course, the same thing had happened as last night. When Denki had gone out to say hi to her, she had practically had a heart attack. The music had come to an abrupt stop, and her message was basically "get lost before I kill you."

So, of course, the same thing had happened the next day. And the day after that. It was almost like a ritual; Denki heard her playing, he went to compliment her, she would get mad, he would leave.

"What the hell do you want?" Jirou had yelled at him on the third night he had done this, sounding exasperated after she had caught him lying low in the grass. Denki, accepting he had been caught after hoping to surprise her, had merely stood up and shrugged.

"Well, let's see," he had said, holding up his fingers to count off as he went. "I want to learn what your first name is, listen to you sing, figure out why you want me to go away so much, get through a night where you don't threaten to assault me with your earbuds—"

"Well I wouldn't have to threaten to assault you with my earbuds if you would just leave me alone," Jirou had protested, slinging her guitar strap over her shoulder so she could ball her fists at her sides. Denki could practically see the vein popping out of her forehead. Denki had just shrugged. "Alright, alright," he had said, holding up his hands as he walked away, having full intentions of returning tomorrow.

What he didn't get, though, was why she got so mad whenever she heard him singing. If I could sing like that, I would want everyone to know. I would be like, "hey guys, look how well I can sing? Did you hear me sing yet? Wow, I can sing really well you guys, did you hear that?" It's probably best that I don't sing that well, Denki thought, chuckling to himself.

"What's so funny?" Aishun suddenly accused, glaring at Denki from across the living room.

Damn, I forgot she was even in here, Denki thought, almost jumping out of his skin. Quickly recovering, Denki turned around to glare at her, trying again to match the same menacing glare she gave him on a daily basis. An almond-crush pocky stick lay clasped in his hand, already half eaten, and the TV box glowed with a scene from some action movie he wasn't even paying attention to at this point.

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the small living room. Or really, if you could even really call it a living room. Denki's house had one of those rooms where the living room carpeting cut off halfway to form a hardwood floor where the kitchen started, which had irritated Aishun to no end. "It's all wrong!" She had declared when they first bought the house, which had just made Denki shake his head. Sometimes, Aishun's perfectionism made him want to hurl.

Today though, the young ten-year-old simply adjusted her glasses, scowling at Denki from across the room at the kitchen table. Denki had merely rolled his eyes, turning back to the TV. "Since when does it matter what I laugh about?" He said carelessly, finishing off his Pocky stick and taking another one from the box.

Aishun's scowl deepened. "Since you were laughing instead of walking Yuko," she retorted, flipping another page in her book.

Denki suddenly snapped to attention, turning around to face his sister. "I thought it was your turn to walk Yuko!" He cried. A few years ago, just after their dog, Haru had passed away, both Denki and Aishun had asked their mother for another dog. It had taken a lot of begging, and a PowerPoint presentation from Aishun, but a year later, both of them had soon found themselves with a small white Japanese Spitz dog, of whom they had both agreed on naming Yuko.

Usually, they both babied her to death, but when it actually came to taking care of her it was an entirely different story. Aishun's head shot up from her book again, her scowl deepening even further. "I walked her yesterday. I told you that I walk her on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and you walk her on Mondays, Wednesdays and—"

"Alright, alright, I'll get her. Just stop talking, please," Denki muttered, shoving himself off the couch. Turning off the TV and putting the box of Pocky sticks back in the cabinet, he tried to push down the small amount of joy he got from hearing Aishun's frustrated grunt from seeing that he was eating straight from the box again. But sometimes, it was surprisingly difficult not to actually enjoy annoying her.

—

To be honest, a lot of the time Denki actually didn't mind walking Yuko. Especially on days like this; where it was actually really nice.

Looking down, Denki smiled a bit at the small bundle of fur. When they had gone to the pound to pick a dog, Denki had picked Yuko mainly because of all the energy she had. Japanese Spitzes were typically very white and fluffy; the only way Denki could describe them was two cotton balls stuck together with a head, tail, and long legs.

As they walked, Denki's flip-flops slapped against the pavement, Yuko stopping to sniff every fire hydrant and light pole. The late afternoon sun beat down from directly above, though the clouds lazily drifting over the sky and the cool breeze helped a little bit. A small black-and-blue butterfly flitted past, surprisingly close to Denki's face, before flying off among the rows of houses. A songbird sat in a nearby tree, tweeting away some tune that only the bird itself could understand.

It was almost surreal, where it seemed like nothing can go wrong in the world and everything is just amazingly perfect, almost like in a painting or a princess storybook. For a moment, Denki laughed a little bit in spite of himself, imagining himself walking around in a pretty pink princess dress with white gloves and a tiara, where bluebirds just randomly landed on his finger.

"Ah yes, I am Princess Denki of Saitama Prefecture, bow in my presence," he said to no one in particular in a high-pitched voice, waving his hand around that one motion that princesses always do where it looks like they're screwing in a lightbulb.

"Well have fun, Princess Denki," a sudden voice scoffed, causing Denki to stop in his tracks. He knew that voice anywhere; it was the same one he had been listening to every night. Turning his attention to the front of him, two houses down he saw a large two-story white house, a door, and three windows peeping out of the front. A black door and black shutters peered out at him, and from the porch, Jirou stood, her dark purple hair flapping in the breeze.

Suddenly Denki stopped, the hand that he was using for waving quickly flying to the back of his neck as his face split in an embarrassed smile."Well I mean...I was just walking my dog and...I didn't know you lived this close..." As Denki made an enormous mess of tripping over his words, something caught his attention. In the corner of his vision, just behind Jirou, he saw a small glint of something silver. It was tall, with a cord running out of it, and the top was colored a dark shade of green. Is that an air tank? He realized.

Before he could say anything, Jirou shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Well, where else would I live to be able to get to the field every night? Anyways, have fun with all your princess-ing," She muttered, turning around. Before Denki could get in another word about her or the strange air tank attached to her, the door behind her opened and shut with a slam, leaving Denki in silence.

"Well, she sure seems like a warm and friendly person," Denki muttered to Yuko, crouching down to pet her. Yuko only gave a few short excited yaps, leaping up to place her paws on Denki's chest and cover his face in licks.

Denki laughed a little, rubbing Yuko as she did so. "I just don't get why she's so mad at me all the time," he went on. "It's not like I'm doing anything to make her mad. I wanted to watch her sing. Is that really so bad?"

Yuko didn't say anything, only gave a few short yaps. Denki sighed. "Not that you would know anything about girls," he said, standing up and grabbing Yuko's leash again. Yuko gave a resistant tug at first, but quickly forgot when another butterfly fluttered past, and she broke off into another barking fit.

Just as Denki started to walk again, Yuko stopped suddenly, her tail sticking straight in the air, and lost all interest in the butterfly. Instead, she turned around and started yapping wildly at something new, tugging at the leash so hard that she yanked Denki forward.

"My gosh, Yuko—" Denki cried, trying to place his feet firmly on the ground (in hindsight, it probably wasn't the best choice to wear flip-flops while walking a dog) to keep Yuko from running into the street. "What did you—"

Just then, Denki stopped when he finally saw what Yuko had started barking at. Across the street, watching from behind a white picket fence, there was a boy Denki had never seen before. That wasn't really saying something, considering he had only just moved here, but Denki felt like he would have noticed him.

Standing with his arms resting on the fence, a young boy looking about his age watched with an intrigued interest. He had surprisingly vibrant red hair, sticking up in several spikes all pointing in the same direction as if he had an entire hair gel stash in his closet, matched his piercing red eyes. His outfit came down to a simple red t-shirt with the letters D.J written in black, and gray shorts complete with red crocs.

What are those?! Denki immediately thought, but managed to keep it to himself; he wasn't sure if this guy was one of those people who would like that joke or not. Instead, Denki leaned down to scoop up Yuko, who was still barking madly, as if she had just seen a squirrel or something.

"Gosh, sorry about her," Denki said, trying to do everything he could to shut her up (which frankly, wasn't much.) "My dog just...you know, doesn't like people who don't live in my house."

The boy with the red hair (Denki was considering just calling him "red guy" to go along with his red hair, shirt, and crocs) simply waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, don't worry about it. I've had my fair share of dogs barking at me. That one just seems...extra passionate about it."

Denki chuckled a bit, despite holding a dog looking like it was about to commit a homicide. "Yeah well, you know. New town, new house—wait, were you watching us?" Denki said suddenly, a thought occurring to him.

Red Guy sat up straighter, his eyebrows raising, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you know, I..." he muttered, scrambling for the right words. "Well I was just outside and I saw you, this guy come out of the Kisaragi's old place, and then I saw that you had met Jirou and..." his voice trailed off a little bit as if he was thinking about how weird that sounded.

"Gosh sorry about that; that must sound super weird," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Denki merely shrugged. "Trust me, I've seen weirder," Denki said, thinking back to some of the videos he had filmed when he was alone in a house with his cell phone.

Red Guy snickered a little, then stuck out his hand. "I'm Kirishima if you're wondering," he said.

Denki looked at his hand for a moment, then glanced at the dog trying to murder Kirishima in his arms, then back at Kirishima, wondering how he was supposed to shake his hand while simultaneously trying to stop an assassination by a dog.

Kirishima looked at Yuko, then realized and lowered his hand. "Sorry, guess you can't shake my hand," he said with a small laugh.

Denki shrugged and gave a thumbs up. "It's cool; I'm Kaminari, by the way."

Kirishima leaned on the fence again, looking over Denki's shoulder at his house. "Well, Kaminari, how long have you been here?"

"About four days," Denki said, shouldering Yuko, who was beginning to calm down a little, into one arm. Suddenly, a thought flew into his mind. "Hey, did you say you knew that girl over there?" He asked, pointing over to Jirou's house.

Kaminari looked in his direction, then nodded. "Jirou Kyoka? Oh yeah, pretty much everyone knows everyone around here. I, uh, saw that you met her," he said, and even from a few feet away Denki could see that he was trying not to laugh. Note to self: maybe rub it in her face later that you know her first name, now, Denki thought.

"Yeah, she's been pretty loving recently, if you can call being threatened with a guitar very loving," Denki went on, shaking his head. Even though his senses were peaked with interest, he tried his best to make it seem like he could care less.

Kirishima just smiled, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's Jirou—she once threatened to stab me to death with a fork." As he said so, Kirishima laughed a little bit, as if he were remembering the memory fondly. "We've met each other a few times, though that's mostly because we live so close to each other. I feel like if she could, she would just sit in her house all day. Maybe talk to Yaoyorozu and Hagakure."

"Ah, okay," Denki replied as if he knew who Yaoyorozu and Hagakure were. "I, uh, I actually just saw her with an air tank for some reason—do you know what that's all about?"

Suddenly, it was as if Denki had just asked about a war. Kirishima's smile dropped as soon as the words passed his lips, and for a moment he just stared at Denki. "You don't know?" He said as if he were surprised.

Denki only shrugged. "Afraid not," he went on, though now he had to admit, Kirishima's reaction to it had peaked his interest even further than it already was.

Kirishima just exhaled, leaning on the fence again. "Living so close to her for four days in a town this size, I would have thought someone would have told you by now if you had met her."

Denki almost opened his mouth to tell him about how he had actually seen her in the field, but then he stopped. From the way Kirishima had talked about her, it had become obvious that the only people Jirou actually liked were two people Denki didn't even know, Yaoyorozu and Hagakure. If she didn't like him, a person she had only known for four days to see her in the field, chances are she didn't want this kid whom she had threatened to stab with a fork to see her.

It's a shame though, since she really does have a pretty voice, Denki thought, but managed to keep that to himself. Instead, he looked at Kirishima with sheer curiosity, his eyes wide. "Guess I'm still in the dark, then. Care to enlighten me?" Denki suggested, patting Yuko's head.

Kirishima glanced from the left to the right, as if someone might be listening, then leaned in closer. "You know Jirou has lung cancer."

It was as if someone had just dropped a ball on Denki. For a moment he just stood there, looking at Kirishima, his eyes wide. If he had a voice, it had chosen right then to make itself hidden, causing Denki to just stand there, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he thought of something to say, opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.

He had met people who had disabilities. Back in Saitama Prefecture, there had been this one girl who had this thing called cerebral palsy where she couldn't move her body right, and she always had a teacher aid with her or something. There of course had been more people like that, but this was different, for some reason, For one, he had never actually interacted with those people. That wasn't to say he didn't like them or thought less of them, it just had never crossed his mind to. They had always been in the background while he had been off laughing loudly with his friends.

This was different for two reasons. For one, cancer wasn't like a disability, though in Denki's mind it seemed pretty darn close. They had body issues that made them have different limitations than most other people, but Jirou most likely had a life before cancer where she had probably been able to live like a normal person. And second of all, he had met her. And now that he knew she had cancer, he wasn't quite sure how to respond.

After a few moment, Kirishima just shrugged. "Yeah, a lot of people have that reaction. But don't worry about it, and try not to bring it up, okay? She hates when people do that."

Denki, whose voice had finally come back, managed a nod. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he said, looking back at her house, where the door remained stubbornly closed. However, as he looked over, he thought he saw a flash of purple hair, which quickly disappeared as the curtain moved. Was she watching us? He thought, but before he could say anything, Kirishima spoke again.

"Hey, do you like, wanna come inside or something?" Kirishima suggested. Denki glanced down at Yuko, who looked like she was on the verge of breaking free and attacking Kirishima anyways. "Uh...maybe not now," he said with a small chuckle.

Kirishima looked at Yuko, then waved his hand. "Oh, cool, cool," he said, but before he could say anything else, there was a loud yell from inside. "KIRISHIMA!"

Suddenly, the door to Kirishima's house swung open with a loud bang, causing Denki to jump and even shutting up Yuko for a moment. Kirishima just sighed, shaking his head. "Bakugo, you're scaring the neighbors—" Kirishima began, but he didn't get to finish.

"QUIET YOU!" The boy, who was apparently called Bakugo, yelled back. He stood in the doorway, his hand placed firmly on the door, and Denki swore that if this was a cartoon, there would be steam pouring from Bakugo's ears right now.

The man appeared to be about his height, with red eyes and spike hair like Kirishima, but unlike Kirishima his hair was ash blonde and stuck out in all directions like a sea urchin, rather than all the spikes being straight up. His face was twisted into an angry frown as he stamped towards the two of them, his eyes catching on Denki as he went.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, looking Denki up and down. Jeez, what's his problem? Denki thought, pressing his lips together. He hadn't even known the guy a full minute, and already he was out here, yelling at him and asking him "who the hell he was."

"Uh, I'm Kaminari," Denki said, holding out his hand now that Yuko had calmed down a bit. Bakugo didn't shake it.

Pulling his hand back in, Denki sighed and pointed to his house. "Uh, I just moved in there, and Kirishima just wanted to say hi," he said, and Kirishima looked at Bakugo, shrugging as if to say, see?

Bakugo looked at Kirishima again, still visibly angry. "Well YOU SAID you were going to help plan, and WHAT DO YOU DO? COME OUT HERE AND STAND HERE JUST TALKING WITH EVERYONE YOU SEE!" Bakugo screamed, quickly escalating to loud levels of talking again. "I'M NOT JUST GONNA BE LEFT INSIDE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF! DO YOU WANT MY HELP OR NOT?!"

"No, I do, I do," Kirishima assured, moving his hands in a calm down motion. Denki, however, was still left in the dark. "Planning what?" He asked, unaware of if it was nosy or not.

"Oh, well school just got out here, so we were just planning this one get-out-of-school celebration thing," Kirishima said, as if it weren't a big deal.

"Uh, YOU were the one planning it. I just came here to help so you would get off my back about it!" Bakugo roared, and for a moment there was a second where Denki wasn't even one-hundred percent sure of if they were even friends or not.

Whichever one it was, Kirishima ignored him, turning back to look at Denki. "Hey, you could come too if you want. I mean, I know you didn't come to our school, but maybe you could meet some new people or something."

Denki's heart said yes before his mouth even had a chance to. Parties, celebrations, or anything along those lines had always been where Denki had always felt most at home when he wasn't at home. They always seemed to hold those moments where he could let loose all the nervous energy he was constantly bottling up, and just be crazy for once.

"I might show up," was what came out instead though. He didn't want to seem too eager or desperate. Kirishima gave a thumbs up. "Cool, dude! Hope to see you there!" He called, and began to walk back towards the house, the guy called Bakugo following after.

For a moment after the door closed, Denki stood there, smiling. Maybe he would make some friends here after all. As he turned around to continue his walk with Yuko, however, he passed Jirou's house, which now showed no signs of anyone watching him.

The thought of Jirou flew into his mind again. He had no idea that he had lung cancer, and he had no idea how to react to that.

But of course, that didn't stop him from seeing her again that same night.

¹Song used is "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac