Twenty Questions

When she noticed the shadow on her balcony, the clock on her desk showed a bright red 23:08. She noticed because her window stood open to let in some fresh air, and because a gentle wind blew the curtains away. She noticed because the hair stuck to her skin and if she'd touched it, she'd surely get a tiny shock. She noticed because of the electricity in the air spiking, as it did when Kaminari entered a room.

As it had.

"How long are you gonna sit outside my window like a creep?" She didn't wait for an answer, but got up to hang her bass on its usual place on the wall. Then she made an extra move over to the door, and with a quiet sound, the lock clicked in place. It was more than an hour past curfew, but it's not like that had stopped their classmates from running around school grounds in the past. My classmates, she silently corrected in her mind.

She pulled out the key. Shoved it in her pocket, still facing the door. That should have been enough time. Come on. Do something. Say something you treacherous piece of shit.

"Until you ask me to come in, I guess."

The sole sound of his voice sent a whole roller coaster of emotions through her chest. Anger. Euphoria. Fear. Hope. Pain. Pain. Pain.

"What are you, a vampire? Sit your ass down already. And close the window."

She heard the almost soundless shuffle of feet on the veranda, and then her window closing with a quiet thump. The curtains fell back in place.

A crushing silence spread between them. Her knuckles turned white on the doorknob. Kyoka didn't dare turn around. Turning around, seeing what he had become would make it all real. Kaminaris betrayal. The emptiness filling class As dorms. The fact the person they had all trusted, the one who always had an open ear and could lighten the mood by simply walking into a room, had probably never given two shits about any of them. That he was a liar. A lying piece of crap of a villain.

"You got some nerve showing your stupid face here again." She suppressed the tremble in her voice.

"I made sure to avoid Bakugo. He most likely would have blasted it off." He kept his voice down, even though her room was probably the most sound isolated place in the whole building, and he damn well knew that. Was that why he came here?

She took a deep breath. Face him. Get your answers, kick his ass out of here and make your peace with it. She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned around.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Kaminari leaned back in her desk chair with his crossed legs up on the table. His hair had grown out over the months, enough to tie it back in a tiny pony tail. He hadn't bothered to dye it tho, like others might have done if they had to go underground for a while, to run from the mess they made. The bags under his eyes were dark, his skin pale like he hadn't gotten a decent night of sleep in weeks. And the scars. Goddammit the scars.

He grinned and the dark Lichtenberg scars running from the neck up his right cheek twitched.

Kyoka wanted to throw her arms around his neck, only there her intentions parted, and she wasn't sure whether to hug or strangle him.

"Been a while!" he declared cheerfully. So strangling it was. Would have been, had she not restrained herself and instead taken a guitar from its place beside the door. She avoided his eyes, suppressed the urge to smash the guitar in his face and sat down across from him on the bed. The instrument in her lap gave her something to hold onto. A shield between them. She couldn't do it yet, wasn't ready to pretend like nothing had happened. From the corner of her eye she saw his grin fade.