It's Raining It's Pouring, I Know I'll Never Be The King

Maybe I'm Not Normal

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Warning, this chapter contains slight mentions of Suicidal thoughts, Depression, self h@rm, body dysmorphia and more.

"Stop hiding behind things that are familiar!" Denki yelled at himself. Hitting himself in the sides of his head with the heels of his hands. He already had a migraine; so what was a little more skull pounding going to hurt?

A lot. Apparently. He let out a staggered groan and a strangled cry. His voice gurgled in his throat. He hated this; how his body would just give up on him. His quirk was already hard enough to control; but it tasted like acid was building up on his tongue and burning it's way down his esophagus.

Each breath felt like fire going in and out. He attempted to take a drink of water only to choke it back up. His hacking and coughing brought up more than just the water. Each gag was followed by a retch and saliva. Just dry heaving that felt like it would never end. Until it did. And he could feel air entering his lungs again. He coughed a few times with each inhale and exhale; each stuttered wheeze came out painful.

Every pant and gasp stuttered out; it rang loudly in Denki's ear. As soon as it seemed like things were normal, he stood up. And he stared at the homework he had been trying to do before. It was a half finished math paper; the few tears that settled and dried onto the sheet blended his pencil scratches with the tiny fibers of the paper.

"You've gotta stop hiding behind things that are familiar Denki! Stupid stupid Kaminari Denki. Peeking from the shadows of something he knows because he is just too afraid to step into the light of a stranger. Nobody likes change- you idiot! But it's necessary to change things. Nobody ever became someone important from doing the same things over and over again!"

Denki gripped at his arm and dug his nails Into the skin, watching with shaky inhales as he drew blood beneath his fingers. He didn't want to hurt himself; but it helped to ground him. What would a few scars tell anyone about him? If anyone asked, he could just say he's clumsy. Nobody would doubt that anyways.

"I think," he breathed, talking to himself in whispers still. "I think I'll head downstairs now." which is exactly what he did. Taking turns between beating his fist against his head and his stomach, hopping a patter and pain in different areas would confuse his body enough and take away the awful tingling sensation away from every inch of his body and bring it to his still aching head and lungs. In a more direct manner.

Quirk pills only worked so well. Suppressants did barely anything for electricity type quirks; because there's electricity, electrical energy, and sources of it everywhere.

A thrumming in his crown; his migraine meds would do the trick. Drink some water to keep hydrated and eat some food. He already had a set routine. It was easy to become numb to the softer throbs, but with each rush of his quirk through his veins; a much harsher hammering resounded through his upstairs cavern.

Breathing in ragged waves, short stuttered breaths? Not his first time going through that. It felt like molten wax inside his chest. It was sticky and yet dry. There was a heat sensation deep and pooling in the bottom of his lungs. Denki knew well about human anatomy. How it's not meant to handle as much electricity that surges and pulses every time he blinked. He wasn't a stranger to the dark. And he certainly was t a stranger to watching his veins glow warmly with his quirk.