The Quiet of Us (Denki Kaminari x OC)

Kaminari's Struggle

The past few months had been a whirlwind for Kaminari. On the surface, everything seemed back to normal. Aiko had been doing well in her recovery, save for a few relapses, but she always bounced back with determination. She was stronger than she gave herself credit for, and Kaminari couldn't have been more proud of her. She had even faced down paparazzi a few times, something that would have sent her spiraling before. Now, she handled it with grace.

But despite how well Aiko was doing, something was off for Kaminari. Lately, he had been pushing himself harder than ever before, taking on more dangerous missions, staying away for days at a time. It wasn't just the job—it was the pressure. The comparison.

Heroes like Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima were at the top of their game, rising stars in the hero world. Kaminari was good, he knew that, but he wasn't at their level. He hadn't reached the same heights. Every time he saw their names trending in the news, every time they completed a mission with near-flawless execution, he couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't there with them. What was he missing?

Kaminari had tried to keep his feelings hidden from Aiko. She was dealing with enough, and he didn't want to burden her with his own insecurities. So instead of talking about it, he threw himself into his work, taking on more high-risk missions to prove—maybe to himself more than anyone else—that he belonged on the same level as his friends.

But the constant missions were wearing him down. He was away from home for days at a time, barely getting any sleep, and the exhaustion was starting to catch up with him. Aiko noticed, of course. She always did. But every time she asked him if everything was okay, Kaminari brushed it off with a smile and a joke, telling her it was just the nature of hero work.

It wasn't.

One evening, after yet another mission that had kept him away for two nights, Kaminari returned home feeling utterly drained. He walked through the door, dropping his gear by the entrance, trying to mask the heaviness in his chest with a casual grin.

"Hey, babe," he called out as he entered the apartment. "I'm back. Miss me?"

Aiko appeared from the kitchen, her expression warm but tinged with concern. "Of course I did. How was the mission?"

"Same old, same old," Kaminari replied, shrugging it off. "Just another day in the life of a pro hero."

But Aiko wasn't convinced. She had noticed the change in him—the way he pushed himself harder, the way he seemed more distant, like he was carrying something he wasn't sharing with her. It wasn't just his missions that were taking him away from home. It felt like he was pulling away from her, too.

"Denki," Aiko said softly, stepping closer to him. "Can we talk? I've been... I've been worried about you."

Kaminari blinked, taken aback by her tone. "Worried? About me? Babe, you're the one who's been dealing with—"

"No," Aiko interrupted, shaking her head. "This isn't about me. I've noticed how you've been pushing yourself. You've been taking on more dangerous missions, staying away longer, and you barely sleep when you're home. Something's wrong, and I don't want you to hide it from me."

Kaminari opened his mouth to respond, but the words got caught in his throat. He had been so focused on being strong for Aiko, on supporting her through her struggles, that he hadn't realized how much of his own burden he was carrying alone.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, though even he didn't believe it.

Aiko's eyes narrowed, her voice firm but gentle. "No, you're not. I know you, Denki. You've been taking these missions because you're comparing yourself to the others, haven't you?"

Kaminari froze, the truth hitting him like a punch to the gut. He hadn't expected her to see through him so easily, but then again, Aiko always knew when something was off.

"It's not—" Kaminari started, but he stopped, realizing there was no point in lying. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah... I guess I have been. I just... I see Bakugo, Todoroki, and the others, and they're all doing so well. It feels like I'm stuck, like I'm not good enough compared to them."

Aiko frowned, her heart aching as she listened to him. She could hear the frustration and doubt in his voice, the same kind of doubt she had carried in herself. Stepping closer, she placed a hand on his arm, her voice soft but steady.

"Denki, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. You're an amazing hero, and it's not about being better than anyone else. It's about being you. I don't care if you're not at the same level as Bakugo or Todoroki—I care about you. And I don't want to lose you because you're pushing yourself too hard."

Kaminari's chest tightened at her words, the weight of everything he had been holding in finally starting to lift. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.

"I just... I don't want to let you down," he admitted quietly. "You've been going through so much, and I didn't want to add to it by talking about my own issues. I wanted to be strong for you."

Aiko shook her head, stepping even closer until she was looking up at him, her eyes filled with compassion. "Denki, you don't have to be strong all the time. I want to help you, too. This relationship isn't just about you supporting me—we're in this together. If something's weighing on you, I want to know. We'll get through it together, okay?"

Kaminari's heart swelled with emotion as he looked at her, the love and care in her voice cutting through the self-doubt he had been carrying. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Aiko smiled softly, resting her head against his chest. "You don't have to find out. I'm not going anywhere."

For a long moment,they stayed like that, holding each other in the quiet of their apartment. Theweight of Kaminari's insecurities didn't disappear entirely, but in Aiko'sarms, they didn't feel as heavy. He knew there was still work to be done—bothfor himself and for their relationship—but for the first time in a long while,he didn't feel like he had to carry it all alone.