This time I will protect them I won't be a coward

102

Denki Kaminari had exactly three days left until the Provisional Hero License Exam.

Three. Days.

And he felt like he was walking on thin ice—barefoot, blindfolded, and caffeinated in panic.

He woke up at 4:00 a.m.—the blue hour. That eerie, quiet time when the world still felt half-asleep and half-haunted.

Slipping out of bed, Denki threw on his teddy bear jumper over his nightshirt. His suitcase still sat half-unpacked in the corner, but that was a problem for future Denki.

Right now, he had a plan: sneak into the common room, brainstorm ultimate move ideas, and—most importantly—get caffeine into his system before his brain short-circuited from stress.

He tiptoed out of his dorm room, journal and pen in hand, closing the door with the precision of a ninja.

The hallway was silent. He took the exit stairs down to the kitchen, praying the coffee machine hadn’t been cursed overnight.

The lights flickered on automatically as he entered.

Denki grinned.

He grabbed a vanilla coffee pod, popped it into the machine, and rummaged through the cabinet for a mug. A plain white one would do. He placed it under the nozzle and waited as the machine gurgled to life.

The rich aroma of coffee filled the kitchen-like a—warm, comforting, and slightly dramatic.

Denki took a sip and sighed in delight. Bliss.

Then he turned toward the lounge—and screamed.

Because Kyoka Jirou was standing there. With a knife. Inches from his face.

They both screamed.

Which, of course, woke up half the dorm.

Denki dropped his mug. It shattered on the floor, coffee splashing dangerously close to his feet. Thankfully, his fuzzy grey socks absorbed the worst of it.

Jirou blinked, still half-asleep, and lowered the knife. “OH MY GOD! Kaminari-kun, are you hurt?! I thought you were an intruder—my quirk picked up movement and I panicked!”

Denki raised his hands in surrender. “I’m fine! I swear!”

Footsteps thundered toward the kitchen.

“Oh great,” Denki muttered. “Here comes the cavalry.”

Dark Shadow swooped in, lifting Denki off the ground like a distressed mother hen. “My friend is hurt! Tokoyami!”

Denki flailed. “I’m not hurt! Please stop nuzzling me—your face is wet and weirdly emotional!”.

At the entrance, Midoriya stood in his jogging gear, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of concern and amusement.

Denki locked eyes with him. Puppy mode: activated.

“Deku~ help me!” he whined, making grabby hands.

Midoriya sighed and walked over to pry Dark Shadow off Denki, who clung like sentient glue. Even polite threats didn’t work.

Tokoyami bowed slightly. “Kaminari-kun, I apologize for Dark Shadow’s behavior.”

Meanwhile, Jirou explained the misunderstanding to Iida, who had arrived in full class president mode.

Then—stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

Everyone froze.

Bakugou Katsuki entered the kitchen, eyes scanning the scene.

His gaze landed on the spilled coffee and shattered mug.

His one eye twitched.

“WHO THE HELL RUINED MY KITCHEN?!”

Denki got an earful. So did everyone else who were within Bakugou rage of anger.

_______________________________________

Now Denki sat on the lounge sofa, wrapped in a fluffy purple blanket, pouting like a kicked puppy.

He just wanted coffee.

But Bakugou had banned him from the kitchen for a week.

Todoroki, on the other hand, was banned for a year—for leaving ramen on the stove and triggering the fire alarm sensors one day. He’d thought the stove was automatic.

Denki sighed again, only to stop when a plate of chocolate pancakes and fruits appeared in front of him.

He blinked up at Uraraka’s smiling face. “Thanks,” he whispered, taking the plate from her and glancing at Ojiro’s sitting nearby by him.

Everyone else had scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and Kirishima’s infamous green protein shake—allegedly good for stamina and strength.

Denki caught Bakugou staring at him.

He flushed. ‘Is this Bakugou’s way of showing affection?’

Bakugou clicked his tongue and turned to Kirishima. “Oi, shithead! Get out of my kitchen if you’re done making those horrendous green shakes!”

Kirishima laughed nervously. “Almost done, Bakubro!”

Bakugou grabbed his plate and stomped off to join the self-proclaimed Bakusquad.

Denki was pulled from his thoughts by Uraraka’s gentle voice. “Kaminari-kun, your pancakes are getting cold.”

“Huh? Oh—right.”

He cut the pancakes into bite-sized pieces and chewed quietly, warmth spreading through him.

________________________________________

After breakfast, Denki returned to his room to change into his uniform. He still had an hour before school started, and the campus was big enough to wander.

He took the elevator down and stepped into the empty common room.

Everyone had retreated to their rooms—either to get dressed or finish homework.

Perfect.

Denki slipped out of the building, journal in hand, ready to walk off the chaos and maybe—just maybe—figure out what the hell his ultimate move was going to be.