Chapter 1: The static in the air
It starts at a joint training exercise. Denki pushes himself too hard, discharging a massive “indiscriminate shock” to protect Jiro from a simulated ambush. He enters his “wheeey” state, but this time, it’s different. He doesn’t bounce back quickly. Jiro watches him stumble, his eyes vacant and a trickle of blood escaping his nose. The school medic reveals his quirk is starting to take a toll on his nervous system, causing chronic migraines and sensory overload. Jiro feels a crushing weight of guilt-he did it to save her, and she realises how much he hides behind his “dumb” persona.
Jiro tries to visit denki in the dorms, but he’s avoiding everyone. He’s terrified that if he isn’t the “funny, electric guy,” he has nothing to offer for the class. Jiro stands outside his door, hearing the silence where there’s usually loud music or gaming shouts. She tries to talk to him through the door, but he snaps, telling her he doesn’t need “pity from a real hero”. Jiro slumps against the door in the hallway, her earphone jacks trembling, listening to him struggle with sudden, painful seizure of static electricity in his room.
A week later, the class is at a training ring. Denki is benched, forced to watch from the sidelines. Isolation is eating him alive. Jiro finds him sitting by the the tv at night, trying to spark small light between his fingers and failing. Denki finally breaks down, admitting he feels like a “short-circuiting toy” that’s lost its purpose. Jiro doesn’t comfort with words to comfort him; instead, she plugs her jacks into the earth, sending his erratic heartbeat and rhythmic tremors, finally understanding the physical pain he’s been concealing.
Chapter 4: The frequency of comfort
During the same night, Jiro leads Denki back to her dorm in search of something. She pulls out her most expensive noise-cancelling headphones—the ones she usually doesn’t let anyone touch. She puts them on him to dampen the sensory “noise” that triggers his headaches. For the first time in weeks, the tension leaves Denki’s shoulders. They sit on the oversized common room sofa. He leans his head on her shoulder, and she doesn’t tease him or poke him with a jack. She just stays there, a steady rhythmic presence in his chaotic world.
After a month, Denki is recovering, but he has “low-power” days where he’s sensitive to light and sound. They lay tangled in a heavy weighted blanket in her dorm room. Denki is tucked into the crook of jiro’s neck, his breathing finally synchronised with hers. Jiro hums a low, bass heavy melody—a frequency she discovered calms his nervous system. There are no grand confessions, just the soft rustle of the blanket and Jiro’s hand threading through his blonde hair. As he falls into a peaceful, pain-free sleep, Jiro realised that while he is his own lightning rod, she is his ground.