↪ i'll be your angel, i'll be your best friend

take me to new york, take me to heaven ↩

Denki Kaminari was not precisely the smartest of men.

He was also not precisely the smartest of teenagers, or blondes, or, he was willing to venture, the smartest person blessed with an electricity-based quirk. Not precisely the smartest of aspiring U.A. students, certainly, and not precisely the smartest person, most definitely. Of course, 'not precisely' was a bit of an understatement.

When was the last time he'd gotten a perfect score on an assessment? Even he couldn't remember. Why, he couldn't even remember if he had ever gotten a perfect score on anything. Not even those 'guaranteed-100' assignments, because he'd always finished them a day late, or forgotten to turn them in, or just lost them somewhere (probably swimming in the sea of crumpled notebook paper and various other home- and school-work sitting at the bottom of his backpack, but that was beyond the point). The only time he'd ever truly come close had been in basic team-building activities all the way back in kindergarten and early elementary; he had always been on to stick with fairly laid-back people, however, and typically whatever untroublesome task they had been given wound up completely forgotten by the end of class, the silent reminders of the stark-white paper, free of all handwriting, hidden beneath an elbow or a foot of the air of a lazy Friday conversation.

As his years of schooling pressed onwards, it became rapidly apparent that it wasn't simply that he was stupid - he also just didn't know most things. His people skills were probably the most well-polished of them all, but even those were questionable at best. He couldn't retain a lesson for more than a day (probably more than five minutes after hearing it, realistically), and certainly never bothered to do what he considered 'school-related activities' such as reading or researching class topics outside of the place he deemed they belonged: school itself. He had no external knowledge of the world, besides, of course, the basic principles taught to him by the ever-trustworthy source of mass media - heroes are good, villains are bad.

He may not precisely have been the smartest, but ethics did exist within him, and ever since he was young he'd strove to remain as far from the villain category as possible. He didn't want to be bad. He wanted to be good. The good Denki Kaminari, the Electric Hero, Sparky, more of the same. He'd fantasized about the vast reputation he'd gain as a hero once he was grown up, helping the innocent, fighting foes, ceasing corruption, harboring happiness and humor for all. Yes - that. That was the hero that he wanted to be.

And yet, somehow, the word 'bad' always seemed to be present in his life. Not among his friends, who were all well and joyous, fairly energetic people, and not among his relatively satisfied, normal family. Not among his personality, either - most were naturally drawn to his good-hearted (if not sometimes a little perverted) jokes and flashy smile, entertaining expressions, and overall loud existence. It was as though he could be doing nothing at all and yet in his own way, he was screaming at the world, the ever-present smirk of a success plastered upon his lips, saying I am here! I am Denki Kaminari, and I am here! I am here!

No - all of that was fine and wonderful. It was, of course, his primary aggressor.

School.

"Denki, your grades show your lack of understanding, and that's bad."

"These are some pretty bad scores, kid."

"Oh, honey, how did you manage to get something as bad as this..."

"You can't seem to remember anything, or turn anything in, and yet you're still surprised to find out you're doing bad?"

"You've done really badly this year, Denki..."

"These marks are so bad, Denki. You really should reconsider U.A. I doubt they'll accept someone with grades this bad."

Bad. Bad bad. Bad bad bad. Bad bad bad bad.

In his mind, all he heard was:

Villain.  Villain villain. Villain villain villain. Villain villain villain villain.

And how could a villain possibly get into U.A.?

It wasn't as though he hadn't tried to do well. He put in the time, and made a schedule, and had a neat planner packed next to his notes at all times, but it always wound up the same. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't seem to get grades that were good.

He never got hero grades.

It didn't take very long for other people to catch on to this fact. Even people he'd considered his closest friends had ultimately turned their backs to him, leaving him the 'hopeless idiot,' 'dumb baffoon,' 'stupid kid' that he was. He was about to enter the second semester of his final year before he would (yes I will, nothing can change that I will, I will, I will) enter U.A., and less than a half-dozen contacts were on his phone. He had his mom and dad, two now-distant acquaintances whose numbers he only kept because the number five was drastically better than the number four (if he'd learned anything from low grades, it was this), and perhaps his only real friend.

[Y/n].

She was an oddball, that [y/n]. Maybe it was due to longevity, or persistence, or determination, or some combination of all of the above and more, but ever since the two of them had attended the same preschool, they'd been as close as close could be. She was the only one constantly by his side. She was the one who would try to talk to teachers, without Denki's knowledge, about her best friend's grades, attempting to transfer some of her points to him, or find out any and all extracurricular activities, and even sneaking into school in the early-morning light of dawn to place a supposedly 'lost' assignment in the grading bin, signed with Denki's name and completed in nearly-identical handwriting. She was the one who would get him to review, or study, or at least start on his work, and she was the one who would help him, or at least attempt to, whenever he hit a bump or brick or gigantic concrete wall.

And she would always do it with a smile, too. Even if she got sarcastic, or goofed off a bit here and there, it was all in good fun, and ultimately made the course of their friendship run deeper and wider, a ravine of pleasantness towards each other. Denki never really understood why [y/n] would help him, or why she had yet to leave him, like all the others throughout the years. He dreaded the time when she, too, would simply vanish from his evanescent life. The fear within him was stronger than anything else except his returned gratitude and admiration for her.

Denki never really understood [y/n] at all.

But so what? Add it to the list. It was just one raindrop out of a seemingly endless storm pouring its contents into a hole he stood in, six feet beneath ground level, the water rising and threatening to drown him at any moment, up past his chin now.

There were really and truly only two things that ever provided a break from the raging storm, that parted the clouds and let the sunlight shine through, allowing a bit of the rainwater to evaporate into thin air, preventing him from full submersion.

Because, in this world of which he knew so very little, he completely comprehended only two things.

[Y/n] was good - [y/n] was a hero.

And oh, how he loved her.

↪ i'll be your angel, i'll be your best friend

i'm in my bedroom, let's go to heaven ↩