The Quiet of Us (Denki Kaminari x OC)

Separate Lives, Separate Homes

Kaminari's days had been filled with the usual buzz of hero work—missions, interviews, and the constant grind of trying to make a name for himself. On the surface, everything seemed fine. He was doing well, moving up in the ranks, earning respect from his peers. But beneath all of that, there was a dull ache he couldn't quite shake.

Aiko.

No matter how much time had passed, she was still there, lingering in the back of his mind. He had tried dating a few times since the breakup, but no one ever compared. There was always something missing, some connection he couldn't replicate.

He pushed his grocery cart through the aisles, half-focused on the list in his hand. His mind was elsewhere, drifting through thoughts of his next mission, what he'd cook for dinner that night—anything to distract himself from the quiet loneliness that often crept in when he wasn't looking.

But as he turned into the next aisle, his heart stopped.

There she was.

Aiko.

She was standing in front of the shelves, inspecting a can of soup, completely unaware of his presence. Kaminari froze, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do. It had been so long—almost two years—and yet seeing her again felt like no time had passed at all. The familiar ache in his chest returned, sharper now, as if no time had dulled it.

He took a deep breath, his mind racing. Should he say something? Should he just turn and leave? But his feet moved before his brain could catch up, and suddenly, he was standing just a few feet away from her.

"Aiko?"

Her name slipped from his lips before he could stop himself, and the sound of it startled her. She turned, her eyes widening as they locked onto his.

"Denki?"

Her voice was soft, almost disbelieving, and for a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other. The world seemed to fade around them, the steady hum of the grocery store falling into the background.

Kaminari cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said, his voice a little too casual, given the emotional storm raging inside him.

Aiko smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, just picking up a few things for the week."

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of two years of separation hanging heavily between them. Kaminari glanced down at her cart, his heart pounding as he scanned the contents. Soup, vegetables, bread—all single-serving items. No signs of a family. No diapers. No baby food.

Relief flooded through him, though he wasn't sure why. He hadn't even realized how much he had dreaded the possibility of seeing something—anything—that would signify she had moved on, that she had built a life without him.

Aiko, too, seemed to glance at his cart, her eyes flicking over the items inside. She looked for the same clues, the same signs of a life she was no longer part of. Her gaze settled on the package of instant noodles, the single carton of eggs. Like her, he was shopping for one.

Neither of them said anything about it.

Instead, Aiko's eyes drifted down to Kaminari's left hand, and for a brief, fleeting moment, her heart clenched. She searched for a ring, hoping—praying—that she wouldn't find one. And when she didn't, she felt a strange mix of relief and sadness wash over her.

Kaminari, too, found himself glancing at her left hand. No ring. No signs of a marriage, or a life she had built without him.

"So, how have you been?" Aiko asked, breaking the silence.

"Good," Kaminari replied, though his voice lacked conviction. "Busy, you know? Work's been... a lot."

"I bet," she said softly. "You're doing really well. I've seen your name in the papers a lot."

Kaminari nodded, though he didn't know what to say. He had worked so hard to climb the ranks, but now, standing in front of Aiko, none of that seemed to matter.

"And you?" he asked, his voice gentle. "You're back at the rehabilitation facility?"

"Yeah," Aiko said, her smile faint. "I got a pay increase recently, so things have been going well."

They continued to talk, their voices soft and polite, but there was a tension beneath their words—an unspoken weight that neither of them knew how to address. They walked side by side, pushing their carts through the aisles, each picking up items for their separate homes, their separate lives.

Kaminari's heart ached with every step. He wanted to say more, to ask her about the past, about why things had turned out the way they had. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, they filled their carts with groceries, pretending like everything was normal, even though nothing felt normal at all.

As they reached the end of the aisle, their carts full, Aiko hesitated. She turned to Kaminari, her expression soft but sad.

"It's really good to see you, Denki," she said quietly.

Kaminari nodded, his throat tight. "You too, Aiko."

And with that, they went their separate ways, pushing their carts toward separate checkout lines, knowing that the food in those carts would go to separate homes.