My hero academia oneshots

Trans!Denki- "I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore."

TW: TRANSPHOBIA

(a/n) This one doesn't have a really have a ship (KamiKiri if you squint?), but I hope you guys like it anyway. I myself am non-binary, so a lot of my own feelings are reflected in this piece. 

This one is majorly angsty, but I hope you enjoy. 

Prompt: "I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore."

Tap, tap, tap. Denki let his fingers drum, absentmindedly, over his desk. He ignored the glare Bakugou sent his way, and the ache in his back from his too tight binder. From the outside, it might have looked like Denki wasn't paying attention in the relaxed sort of way, thinking about some video game or hot model or anything else his mind might conjure up. In fact, Denki felt the exact opposite. Yes, his mind was elsewhere. But instead of focusing, Denki was internally panicking. Parents weekend, introduced because of the new dorms, was to take place that weekend. The whole school was in a buzz preparing for it. That Friday, parents could attend student classes, and then meet with teachers for parent teacher conferences the rest of the weekend.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Denki's fingers kept drumming, as if of their own accord. He'd need to talk to Aizowa after class, and that was always scary. Tap. Tap. tap. And he'd need to ask Mina for a skirt. Tap, tap, tap. And of course, the flag in his dorm would need to come down. He might have to talk to his friends about names, too, but Denki was close enough to his deadname.

Tap. tap. Tap.

He really wasn't looking forward to this friday.

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"Oh! My sweet, beautiful girl, how are you?" His mother smiled, and pinched at his cheeks. Denki did his best to smile back, though it was probably more of a grimace.

"I'm great, mom. How about you?" He lied. He was not great. The skirt felt too short, his straightened hair felt too long, and the higher lilt to his voice grated against his ears. His chest felt inexplicably wrong. Nothing about this was him. So no, he was not great.

"I'm wonderful! You know, dimples, did I tell you about..." His mother continued talking, but her feminine nicknames seemed to slap Denki across the face. And again, when his mother was introducing herself to Kirishima's parents: "Oh yes, that's my daughter. She really is so talented. From what I hear, your child and mine are quite close. He seems to be over in her dorm more than his own!" Denki had no idea how his mom knew so much, but that wasn't what made his fists clench and his muscles tense. Daughter. She. Her.

Kirishima seemed intent on staring at Denki with pity in his eyes. It might have been annoying, but that was a lot better than however Mineta had been looking at him. Denki hated it. He hated it all. He hated how feminine the slightest labels were. He hated how scared he'd felt the first time he'd come out to his mom, and he'd hated her reaction. No, he wasn't fucking confused. No, this wasn't because UA is so progressive, or because of his friends. This was who he was, and he was tired of having to fucking fight it.

Denki barely managed to choke down his food, trying to ignore the churning, twisting anger in his stomach. Of course, his mom wanted to see his dorm, too. So up to the dorms they went, Denki praying she wouldn't look in the closet. The irony of hiding his pride flag in his closet wasn't lost on him, and Denki felt like giving a pitiful chuckle. His mother oohed and ahhed at his room, working her way steadily over to the closet. Denki's hand's felt sweaty. He hadn't hidden the flag well enough. Maybe he should have tucked it under his mattress, or behind his desk. In the end, though, it was his desk that gave him away. He had completely forgotten the Trans Rights are Human Rights sticker he'd put on his laptop. He saw it so often it had completely blended in with the background. It didn't for his mom, though. Denki saw the exact moment she noticed it. Her posture stiffened, and she turned to look at him.

"What. The hell. Is this." She said, pointing at the sticker. It wasn't a question. For a second, Denki floundered, trying to come up with an excuse.

"I- uh- I bought it for my friend? Who owns a small sticker business, and this was the cheapest design?" Denki stuttered, hating his voice more every second he went on talking.

"No. I don't want your excuses. You said you were done with this. You've always been happy as a girl." Denki winced.

"I- I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was apologizing for. Not hiding himself? Not being what his parents wanted? Not being good enough? Tears of anger began to prick the corners of his eyes. He shouldn't have to hide himself. His parents should love him no matter what. He might not be the best in the class, but he sure as hell was good enough. And yet, here his mother was, making him feel like the shitty grime one scrapes off their shoe.

His mother looked absolutely livid. "You're sorry? If you were sorry, you would have stopped. You would have stopped the whole... This whole charade, you would have stopped acting confused and stopped affiliating yourself with such things!" She was yelling now, and Denki wasn't sure how much longer he could control his anger. "You are my daughter! Stop this at once!" She shouted.

And then Denki snapped.

"'Stop?' Stop what, exactly. Stop being myself? Stop being happy? It's not a fucking charade, not an act. This," he gestured at the flag, "This is me. And if you're too stupid to see that, that's not my fault. And you know what? I'm not sorry for who I am. I'm sorry you couldn't be a better parent. I might be sorry I wasn't what you signed up for. I'm sorry the world convinced you that acting like a transphobic bigot was okay. But I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore." Denki felt the anger inside him pour out, ugly and dark and scathing. His mother looked shocked, her mouth open but no words coming out. Denki paused, and took in a breath. Slower, and in a lower tone, he continued. "Now, I think it's best for you to go. I don't want you in my dorm anymore. Please leave." It wasn't a request.

Mutely, his mother grabbed her purse, and opened the door to his dorm. Kirishima was outside, looking nervous. He must have heard the argument, but Denki ignored him. The second his mother was out of the room, he shut and locked the door. He went over to the closet and unfolded his flag, intending on hanging it back up again. He didn't get that far. He was halfway across the room when his knees and will power gave out, and suddenly he was sobbing on the floor. He ignored Kirishima's voice from the other side of the door, and grasped the flag in his shaking hands. Fat, heavy tears rolled down his cheeks, collecting on his chin. He tucked into a ball, and cried.

Eventually, Kirishima stopped knocking. Eventually, the tears stopped coming. Eventually, Denki was able to put himself back together, at least enough to get off the ground. He tugged off Mina's skirt, changing into the usual slacks. He dug through his hamper until he found his binder, and slipped it on. He ran a hand through his hair until it was all poofy and spikey. There. Now the person in the mirror was the person in his mind. He rested his forehead against the mirror, breathing out the last reminisce of his breakdown. His fingers tapped against the glass. Tap, tap, tap.