Chapter One: Fighting Fears

                                    

                                          
It was a calm day, Jirou thought she'd go jogging after her light workout today. She texted Yaoyorozu earlier, asking if she'd like to come with.
                          
It was the 2nd trimester of their third year of high school, former Class 1A students were now the prestigious class 3A. The year had just begun and everyone was settling into their new dorms. 
                          
Jirou had arrived yesterday morning and had already rearranged and unpacked her things. It was Tuesday, and school would officially begin the following Monday. She had a mirror hung up behind her door, whisking a hair tie from her desk, she tilted her head forward to tie her hair back. She had let it grow out a little bit over her high school career, although it was still fairly short, it only brushed her collarbone. She felt like she wanted to trim it again like she did last year.
                          
She stretched, letting out a yawn. Glancing at her clock she noticed it was around 8:20 AM, she had a good 40 minutes before Yaoyorozu and her went for their jog.
                          
In the center of her dorm she rolled out a red mat for her to lay on. She twisted her back to grab her phone and played some music to listen to. She set her phone back down on it's black nightstand, turning back around to start a set of crunches, lying flat on the mat. Her phone lightly buzzed, but the music was too loud for her to notice as she brought herself up and down with the rhythm of the song playing. 
                          
She heard a knock on her dorm door, glancing at the clock once more, it read 8:26.
                          
"Momo, I thought you said by nine?" Jirou said as she opened the door, only to find a blond with a terrible case of bed head.
                          
"I'm here for my charger," he yawned, rubbing his neck tiredly.
                          
"Kaminari- I thought you were Momo," Jirou held the door open for him, wearing a sleek black tank over a sports bra with a pair of blue leggings.
                          
"Oh, I texted you, I thought you knew," he held up his phone, showing her his screen. "I can come back later if you want," he pointed a thumb behind him.
                          
Oddly enough, their dorms had been right across one another all three years of high school. They were always nearby one another, no matter how much Jirou wanted to avoid it.
                          
"Nah, just grab it and get out," she swatted a hand, sitting back on her mat.
                          
Kaminari stepped inside, wandering toward her desk to look for his charger. He stole a glance at Jirou, her body was perfectly outlined in her leggings. Loose strands of her indigo locks fell around her shoulders as she tucked her bangs behind an ear. Sunlight streaked through the open curtains of her dorm window, illuminating her back in golden light.
                          
Damn, she was irresistible.
                          
He'd ask her.
                          
Just not today.
                          
Music played loudly in her dorm, filling their ears with melodies to fill the awkward silence.
                          
"Why are you up so early just to work out? I don't get how people like you and Bakugo can do that," Kaminari stretched his arms out.
                          
"What do you think? We're here to be heroes, Dunderbolt,"Jirou replied coarsely continuing her side crunches, mouthing numbers to the beat of the music.
                          
Jirou had gathered some new nicknames for Kaminari over the years. "Jamming Whey" was her favorite to use on him. It was her first nickname for him in fact. "Dunderbolt", or the variation—"Thunderdolt", "Short Circuit", "Dead Fuse"— she rarely used that one. "Dim'watt'", that one was common, along with the occasional "moron", "idiot" or "dork". She had more, Kaminari knew of it, he just didn't have the time to think about it all now.
                          
"It's under my bag," Jirou spoke, snapping him out of his gaze. "Behind you," she pointed, now sitting up with her legs crossed.
                          
"Got it," Kaminari swiped a white cord from under her bag, wrapping it around his hand and unplugging it from the outlet in the wall. "Why'd you think I was Momo?"
                          
"We're jogging later," Jirou replied simply, stretching out her arms over her head, standing up to let him out. "Now are you leaving or what?"
                          
"You're taking your 3rd year seriously I see," Kaminari said as she opened her door. Leaning against the trim looking down at her, he couldn't help but gaze at her face and slender body. 
                          
All of them had grown to become skilled fighters, even some of the most unlikely people. Jirou had some help from Ashido and had been working on her stamina and flexibility. Their experiences from their first year also gave them huge advantages, and allowed them to learn how they could not just train their quirk use, but physical abilities as well.
                          
Not only had they grown as fighters, they'd grown as people, as friends– as family. The students of Class 3A became extremely close. They didn't just develop as students, they excelled as the new heroes of society.
                          
"You should be too, Kaminari," Jirou held a hand on her hip with another hand on the door handle. "This is our last year here. I'm making it count." 
                          
"Guess I gotta step up my game then," Kaminari gave a stupid grin, rubbing the hair underneath his neck.
                          
"C'ya Kaminari," Jirou blew air out of her nose in a skeptical way, shaking her head with a smile and finally shutting the door.
                          
He's taller than I remember.
                          
Jirou thought quietly to herself as she sat back on her mat. They'd just gotten off of their 7 week summer break, as all of her classmates filled the dorms she noticed how much some of them had changed. She scrunched up her nose, glancing at the mirror on the back of her door. She was literally still the same height. Okay, maybe give or take a few centimeters, but generally still below 5'3".
                          
Outside, Kaminari was walking back to his dorm. All three years his dorm had been right across hers. So close, yet oh, so very so far.
                          
He entered his dorm and flopped onto his bed, groaning angrily at himself.
                          
Three years.
                          
Three years he had hesitated.
                          
Maybe he'd hesitate one more year and make the pain in his chest worst.
                          
He turned his head to look at a calendar hung above his desk, the words "Second Trimester" in red marker were messily scribbled onto next Monday's date. 
                          
Soon this trimester would end. Then the last one would end. Then what? They'd all go their seperate ways. 
                          
And he'd never get to talk to her again. She'd be too busy. She'd be living her own life. A life without him.
                          
Maybe that's what she wanted though? What if she wanted nothing to do with him? 
                          
"Rrrghh," Kaminari turned his head back into the pillow on his bed, mumbling. "Wait-" he whipped his head back toward his calendar.
                          
Written in blue, "YEET" was written in all capitals with several exclamation points on Thursday's date. Maybe there was still a chance he'd get to her. He just had to make sure Jirou was actually going to the waterpark Thursday.
                          
He sighed, facing the ceiling on his bed.