A S T A T I C [s.hitoshi & k.denki]

fifty one (finale)

Denki wanted to be appointed a small office job, try out a small time music jig or clean wine glasses behind a bar table.

Instead he's sitting in a lavish office chair; suited up with polished shoes and blonde bangs that was styled to be a combover. It's hell, Denki decides, because he never got to be some low-television host or perform any arts. The office overlooks Tokyo, the Denki Electronics building standing tall.

"Sir, how should the next model of the series appear?" The blonde peers at the assistant, who watches him carefully.

"Sleek, rounded edges, a glass design that mimics a computer in the palm of your hand." Denki replies, dull response but the company doesn't need emotions. Still, the man writes what he's said and hums, agreeing.

"We have an example of what you may have in mind, please consider it." Another person enters the office, and he sees a small box that's similar to all the others that he's seen. The contents inside are no different, but still; he puts on a mature expression and nods approvingly, sending the men off and out of the room.

He said he wasn't going to do it, he wasn't going be affiliated with the company and just live how he wants. Denki was stupid to believe such a fantasy was achievable.

Since UA, he's missed his friends.

He remembers how hard Mina cried over the phone, or Midoriya hugging him desperately after the graduation. Bakugo quiet and in thought and Kirishima trying to think rationally.

It's been so long.

Denki misses Hitoshi, he still has feelings for him— he's sure of it because their graduation photo is so close to his bed. Because he keeps a smaller picture of his insomniac friend in his wallet, because he wants him back.

The office smells like a hospital, employees stare at Denki like he's a god, and his parents congratulate him for taking the inheritance like a "champ" and they're glad he got over his phase. The cameras that used to take pictures of his brother's face now takes a picture of his, and he's a main face in meetings or advertisements.

Sitting at his desk for so long makes his back pop, just like wine or beer bottles.

The blonde nearly drools; because his tastes are so much more used to spiked lemonade and sugar, not fizzy champagne or light whiskey.

That's when he cries; alone in that large office because he didn't want this. He cries alone because he wanted anything but this— he wants Hitoshi and all his friends but he can't, he can't have that.

A knock erupts his session of self pity, and a voice.

"Sir, you're due for a signing later today. Don't be forgetful, it's at 4."

"Of course, make sure to remind me." Denki's voice warbles, but he stands tall and listens to the footsteps fade down the hall.