The lights in Class 1-A's dorm lounge were dimmed low, glowing amber like the last warmth of a fire about to die out. It was past midnight, and everyone had gone to bed—except Kaminari, who sat curled up on the couch, hoodie over his head, phone screen glowing dull against his tired face.
His thumb hovered over old photos. Some with his classmates, some just goofy selfies, some of him with smiles that felt like they belonged to someone else. He hadn't smiled like that in a long time. Not really. Not without it feeling like an act.
He wasn't even sure what was wrong. Nothing bad had happened. His grades were okay, training was fine, and nobody was mad at him. But it felt like his mind was underwater, and his chest held a quiet ache that wouldn't go away. Like static always buzzing under the surface.
Kaminari sighed and sank deeper into the cushions, hoping the couch might just swallow him whole.
"Hey," came a quiet voice from the hallway.
Kaminari flinched. "Ah—sorry, did I wake you?"
Kirishima stepped into the dim room, rubbing at his eyes and wearing a black tank top and red plaid pajama pants. He looked more like a sleepy teddy bear than the guy who could headbutt a concrete wall.
"Nah. Just couldn't sleep. You good, bro?"
Kaminari hesitated. "Yeah. Just… y'know. Late-night scrolling."
Kirishima looked at him for a beat, then nodded slowly, as if understanding something unspoken. "Mind if I hang out with you for a bit?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
Kirishima flopped down beside him, letting out a soft grunt as he got comfortable. Silence stretched between them, not awkward, just… there. Kaminari appreciated it, the way Kirishima didn't push or prod. Just existed beside him.
Eventually, Kirishima leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "You've been kinda quiet lately," he said gently. "Not just tonight."
Kaminari blinked. "Huh?"
"I dunno," Kirishima continued. "You're usually the first one to suggest movie nights or mess with Bakugo or start dumb debates about who'd win in a fight: All Might or ten toddlers in power armor."
Kaminari gave a weak chuckle. "That was a good one."
"But lately," Kirishima said, his voice soft but solid, "you've been quieter. Sadder. Like your battery's low all the time."
Kaminari didn't answer right away. He stared at his phone, then turned it off and put it facedown.
"Yeah," he said at last. "That's… kinda what it feels like."
Kirishima stayed still. Listening.
Kaminari's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Eiji. I'm not failing anything. Nobody's been mean. I just… I feel tired all the time. Empty. I laugh at jokes but I don't feel them. I'm here, but it's like… like I'm not charging up anymore."
Kirishima's chest ached at the words.
"Man," Kaminari went on, voice quiet, "I can literally generate electricity, but I can't even keep myself going. Isn't that pathetic?"
"Hey," Kirishima said firmly, turning to him. "That's not pathetic."
Kaminari gave him a sideways glance.
"You're not a machine, bro," Kirishima said. "Even if you can shoot bolts out of your fingers. You're human. You can't just keep going and going without breaks, without support. Even the strongest batteries burn out if they're overworked."
Kaminari swallowed hard.
"You're not broken," Kirishima added. "You're just… hurting. And that's okay."
The words hit like a wave. Kaminari felt something twist in his chest, and suddenly his eyes stung.
He sniffed. "I don't know what to do."
"You don't have to know," Kirishima said. "But I'm not gonna let you go through it alone."
Kaminari looked up at him, eyes glossy.
"I mean it," Kirishima said, hand on Kaminari's shoulder. "We can talk. Or not. We can sit in silence, or we can watch dumb videos until we laugh so hard we cry. We can start going on late-night walks. Or, like, I dunno, build a pillow fort and talk about feelings."
Kaminari gave a wet laugh. "That sounds terrible."
"Right?" Kirishima grinned. "Let's do it."
They ended up dragging half the cushions off the couches and building a misshapen but sturdy blanket fort. Kaminari sat inside while Kirishima brought snacks—mostly weird combinations like pickles and peanut butter and old Halloween candy Mina forgot in the cabinet. They lit the inside with fairy lights Jirou had left in the common room, and soon the little fort felt like a world of its own.
Inside that warm, glowing bubble, Kaminari felt a small part of the heaviness lift. Not gone. Not fixed. But lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to fix everything alone.
"You ever feel like this?" Kaminari asked quietly.
Kirishima didn't hesitate. "Yeah. A while back. Before U.A., actually. I used to think I wasn't good enough to be a hero. That my quirk was lame. That I was lame. Took me a while to believe I deserved to stand with people like you."
Kaminari blinked at him. "Dude. You're one of the most solid ass guys I know."
"Same to you," Kirishima said, grinning.
Silence fell again, this time comfortable. Kaminari leaned back against the pillow wall and let himself close his eyes.
"Thanks, Eiji," he murmured.
Kirishima leaned back beside him. "Anytime, bro. We charge each other up, right?"
"Right," Kaminari whispered, finally letting sleep pull him under.
In the soft light of the fort, surrounded by snacks, blankets, and unspoken love, the static in Kaminari's mind quieted. Not gone. But calm.