Stupid For You: a Kamijirou Mini Bang @kmjr-mini-bang - Tumblr Blog

Aug 6, 2022

a way to make her stay

G | BNHA | 4.2K words | Kamijirou Mini Bang, in collaboration with @ktyillustrationandart

AO3

Summary: Upon arrival in the Kaminari Kingdom, travelling bard Kyouka meets a mysterious yet flirty stranger named Denki. For some reason, she can’t help but feel like she’s heard that name before…

Jirou glanced around in awe as she walked through the front gates of the royal city of the Kaminari Kingdom.

Gears whirred around her, moving both lifts and sliding platforms. Steam puffed into the air to power the mechanical contraptions littered throughout the city. Methodically placed metal pipes whistled as the wind blew through them, creating a gentle melody that made Jirou’s music-loving heart sing with joy.

The royal city was mostly built upon a steep hill, with many layers connected by both the platforms and steps. At the very top, a grand, stone castle loomed over the city with a flag displaying the kingdom's insignia proudly waving high in the sky.

Jirou had heard about the mechanical city from people she’d met on her travels across the lands, but none of what they said compared to seeing the real thing.

Smiling to herself, Jirou stepped onto a separate section of the pathway at the side of the road that moved on its own. She stumbled a little as it carried her. Having never experienced anything quite like it, it brought her a sense of childlike wonder.

A little further down the road, Jirou hopped off the ground… slide… thing (she didn’t know its name and couldn’t even begin to guess) as soon as she spotted a clothing store. Stumbling a little, she almost collided with a middle-aged woman carrying a basket full of fresh fruits and vegetables.

“Sorry,” Jirou curtly apologised.

“Don’t worry about it,” the lady responded with a warm smile, “the escalators take a bit of getting used to.”

Escalators. Yeah, Jirou never would have guessed that correctly.

She clipped open one of the pockets on the bag resting on her hip, and pulled out a small coin pouch. After her long journey, she was running out of money. However, her current outfit was looking a little worse for wear. On top of the various mud stains, there was a rather obvious tear at the waist of her blouse. She’d already seen someone cast a judgemental look her way.

As she walked up to the shop, eying a gorgeous pair of black and purple gloves displayed in the window, Jirou’s eyes caught sight of a beautiful mural painted on the wall of the building next door.

She marvelled at the pure artistry of the piece which depicted what looked to be the royal family if the golden, jewel-encrusted crowns adorning their heads were anything to go by.

The beaming young boy (Prince Denki, according to the lettering beside him) looked to be a few years younger than her, Jirou mused. He had dazzling blond hair with a black streak that looked oddly like a bolt of lightning. Jirou had thought people were joking when they mentioned the peculiar colouration of the prince’s hair, but after seeing Prince Shouto of the Todoroki Kingdom she supposed nothing was too far fetched.

“Hello, there! Are you interested in buying any of our garments? They’re all sewn in-house!” a bubbly voice called out. It pulled Jirou out of her thoughts as she looked back at the clothing store to see a young girl with bright, curly hair and an even brighter grin to match.

A short while later, after changing into an outfit put together with the help of a kind seamstress named Mina, Jirou stepped back into the street. Adjusting the shoulder strap of her dress, she made sure it lay comfortably underneath the outer layer on top.

Jirou wasn’t usually one to wear such a garment, but she found the leather corset making up the top half mixed with the burlesque skirt to be a flattering look on her. It also paired nicely with the gloves she’d spotted earlier.

(That and it was purple, which Jirou had claimed as her signature colour long ago.)

During Jirou’s time spent in the shop, the sunny sky had darkened to a deep orange and purple hue.

She cursed inwardly and bit her lip. So distracted by the architecture, she had forgotten to find a place to rest!

Much to Jirou's imminent relief, a bustling tavern a little further down the road had a sign out front stating it doubled as an inn for short stays.

‘Perfect,’ she thought.

–––––

After sorting out her accommodation for the night, Jirou slumped down with a heavy sigh into a seat at the only empty table in the room. She placed her pint of beer down and unstrapped the lute slung over her back, nestling it between her aching feet.

She had been without rest all day, what with finishing her travel into the city via foot in order to ensure she had some money left over, and then walking around the city.

Stretching out her legs and arms, Jirou took a moment to relax and leant back against the cold wall behind her. Her eyes fluttered shut.

If it weren’t for the noisiness of the tavern's guests, she might possibly have fallen into a deep slumber. But she’d never slept well with high levels of noise.

(That, and Jirou felt she deserved a nice drink. As a treat.)

“Hey, there! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? About two years, right? How’ve you been?”

Her eyes snapped open. A young man shrouded by a large cloak sat in the seat beside her, his face scarcely visible due to the hood obscuring his head.

Jirou’s palms clammed up as she tried to recall meeting him, but her mind only came up blank.

The stranger nodded his head to the left.

Jirou’s eyes followed the movement, spotting a group of men whose smiles turned to snarls.

“They were talking about you in ways I’d rather not repeat,” the mysterious stranger explained with a wince and a shake of his head. “Women are a rare sight in this place, but unfortunately creeps like them are not. And the only way to get them to back off is to make them think you’re ‘claimed’ by someone else”

Jirou’s nose crinkled as she drank a large gulp of her beer. “Disgusting,” she spat.

“Disgusting, indeed,” he agreed. “They should hopefully stop now, though.”

“Thank you.”

The stranger blanched, his expression morphing to one of amusement.

“Hey, no need to thank me. Any decent guy would have done it. I’m Denki, by the way,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

The name felt familiar somehow, but she brushed it off. Jirou met so many people throughout her travels it wasn’t odd to think some of them might have the same name.

As her hand clasped his, Jirou felt a jolt of electricity flow through her body. She flinched at the contact, not noticing Denki do the same. “I’m Kyouka Jirou.”

“A pretty name for a pretty face,” he said with an exaggerated wink.

Jirou barked out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “What, are you gonna press a kiss to my hand next? Drop a pick-up line that’ll sweep me off my feet?”

“Ah, well, I can’t deny how tempting that sounds,” he flirted, leaning closer to her. From this distance, Jirou could make out flecks of gold in his eyes that matched the strands of hair visible from underneath the hood of his cloak. “After all, you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

A blush rose to Jirou’s cheeks as she quickly snatched her hand back. Her mouth opened to say a quick retort but Jirou found herself rendered speechless.

Seeing her state of fluster, Denki laughed. “Maybe I ought to hold back on that. I think you’re about to pass out.”

“I am not!” She denied.

With all her travels, she’d never had time to think of relationships. Honestly, Jirou couldn’t even recall a time when a man had flirted with her so casually, so forgive her brain for shutting down!

“Okay, okay,” he raised his arms in mock surrender, laughter trailing out. “But seriously, are you not from these parts? I’m pretty sure I’d remember a face like yours.”

She raised a brow. “In all seriousness, you say, and then proceed to flirt with me again,” Jirou smiled despite it and took another sip of her drink. “I’m from the Yaoyorozu Kingdom to the east.”

“Oh, wow,” he said, eyebrows raising. “That’s really far from here. Why come all this way?”

Jirou inhaled a deep breath and bit her lip. She’d always found it nerve-wracking to talk about her music with others despite it being her life’s greatest passion—not to mention her usual way of making a living. Reaching down, she picked up her lute and placed it on the wooden table.

“I wanted to play music and I wanted to travel the world, so I figured why not kill two birds with one stone? This kingdom is my last stop on the way home. It’s taken me a few years, but I’m proud to say that I have travelled all over the known world.”

Denki stared at her, smitten with amazement. His eyes lit up with wonder as he buzzed with so much energy he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“You good?” She questioned amusedly.

“Sorry, I just… that’s so cool! I wish I could travel to other kingdoms,” he explained, staring up at the ceiling as he looked as if he’d gotten lost in his own little fantasy. “There’s so many places I want to see, and you’ve probably visited all of them! I’m kinda jealous, honestly.”

“Then just do it,” Jirou said, trying to keep a straight face but ultimately failing. “If it's the money you’re worried about, don’t think about it too much. I’m not exactly well-off myself but I managed to find work everywhere I went.”

“Oh, no, you’ve got it all wrong! The money isn’t an issue for me,” he paused, wincing. He frantically shook his head and waved his hands. “That came out wrong, but basically you could say my parents are a bit… strict. Same reason I’m wearing this stupid cloak right now.”

“Hey, it’s a cool getup.”

“And I trust your judgement wholeheartedly,” Denki said, making Jirou’s heart flutter once more. He flopped forward, head meeting the table as he stared up at her and whined, “but I hate having to wear it just to get a drink.”

“Then don’t?” Jirou said with a short laugh. “A little rebellion never hurt anyone. Your parents are just uptight. It’s not like you’re a prince or something.”

Denki sputtered out a laugh, banging a fist on the table as he covered his mouth with his hand. He inhaled a shaky breath and held up a single finger in the air to signal he needed a moment to calm down. Just as he was about to compose himself, Denki broke out into another fit of giggles.

It was almost infectious, and Jirou found herself beginning to laugh too despite not understanding what was so funny. He was so loud, people were beginning to stare at them.

“What?” She asked.

As Kaminari let out one final wheeze, he wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Nothing,” she repeated. Jirou looked at him in disbelief. “You were laughing that hard over ‘nothing’.”

“What, am I not allowed to laugh?” Denki asked, pressing a hand over his heart. He huffed dramatically, tilting his head up at the ceiling. “I’m hurt by your words, Kyouka.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you!”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

The conversation continued on, with more flirting on his end and more teasing jabs from Jirou. All the aches and pains in her body were pushed to the back of her mind as Denki spoke, his mere presence soothing.

Jirou had never connected with anyone so fast, not even as a child. They clicked together perfectly, and Jirou found herself crossing her fingers and praying for the conversation to never end.

But unfortunately, midnight crept up on them. People had already started to trail out, the noisy atmosphere traded for a more intimate one of seclusion.

“How long are you thinking of staying here?”

“I’m not sure,” she hummed. “It depends on what kind of work I can get. There’s usually someone in need of entertainment, so I’m never truly out of options. I need to save enough to make the journey home, though, and it’s quite a long one this time.”

If her estimations were correct, it would take Jirou roughly two months for the journey itself. Some of it would be by train or carriage, but those options were becoming increasingly expensive these days, so a lot of Jirou’s travelling was now on foot if possible. Hence all the aches and pains.

Denki tapped his chin repeatedly, his nose scrunching up.

“Is that you trying to think?”

He shot her an unamused look and then smirked. “And here I was about to help you.”

Jirou leant her elbows on the table and propped her head on her hands. She put on her best look of innocence. “I take back what I said. You’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever met.”

“Okay, now you’re pushing it,” he said, smiling anyway. “Your arrival is in perfect time! I know of a little something you might be interested in. It comes with the perk of provided accommodation, too”

“Go on,” she said, intrigued.

Denki waved over the barkeep and asked the man for paper and some ink which he happily obliged.

Turning so his shoulder blocked Jirou’s view, Denki quickly scribbled something down. Jirou tried to take a peek but he only shifted to block her view even further. Once finished, he rolled it up and placed it in her hand.

“Go to the place written on here at this time. I’ll make sure someone is waiting there for you,” he took a step away before stopping, “Oh, and don’t forget the lute.”

Jirou blinked at the piece of paper, staring at it for a few seconds before looking up to see Denki almost out the door. She sputtered out a garbled, “what?”

As he reached the doorway, Denki looked back her way. “You said you were looking for work, didn’t you?”

His response only left Jirou more perplexed. She shrugged it off and unrolled the paper, eyes scanning through Denki’s surprisingly neat and fancy handwriting—not at all what she’d expect from someone that goofy.

The castle? How would some random guy be able to get her a job there of all places?

Jirou’s eyes narrowed. He had been wearing that cloak all night. His explanation was that his parents were strict, but she got the feeling there was a little more to it than that. His name was Denki.

Jirou knew it was familiar, but why? Where had she heard it before?

Her breath caught in her throat.

The mural! Prince Denki.

There was no way she’d just spoken to a prince! Jirou had insulted him! Multiple times!

Besides, the boy in the mural looked to be about fifteen years of age and the Denki she had just met was at least twenty, just as she was. Though there was the possibility that the mural was outdated. Jirou bit her lip, foot tapping against the floor as she internally deliberated it. Maybe it was the prince, or maybe it was merely a coincidence.

Either way, she would get a concrete answer tomorrow. For now, what Jirou really needed was to sleep.

–––––

Jirou glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand before assessing her surroundings. She was close enough to the castle by now that it should be the right place, but she found it hard to keep track when climbing up the hill via the lifts. There were many of them spread across the land and Jirou wouldn’t be surprised if she had stepped on the wrong one at some point.

Her worry was for nought, though, as a man with black hair wearing garments with the kingdom’s insignia embroidered on them approached.

“Are you Kyouka Jirou?”

Jirou nodded slowly and tightly clutched her bag strap. “Uh, yeah. I was told to come here. Something about a job?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve been waiting for your arrival,” he replied with a toothy grin. At Jirou’s panicked look he raised his arms and said, “Don’t worry. You’re not late. My name is Sero, and I’m an aide to the royal family. I’ve been sent to escort you inside. Follow me.”

He led her further up the path to another platform, though this one had royal guards stationed by it. They moved aside as Sero waved at them, exchanging a quick hello. Jirou raised a brow. These guards were certainly much friendlier than some that she’d seen during her travels to the other kingdoms.

As soon as he and Jirou were standing in the middle of the platform and the gate was shut behind them, Sero whistled a short tune. And then, they were moving.

“The tune changes every day,” Sero informed her as the platform stopped on top of the castle wall. He held the small gate at the front open and stepped aside to let her through. “It’s a safety thing.”

Jirou simply nodded and followed along as Sero led her inside. They walked down a flight of twisting stairs before reaching a long corridor. Many gorgeous paintings covered the walls, most depicting different locations within the Kaminari Kingdom.

Glancing to her left, Jirou was met with the view of the city. She could vaguely make out the forms of people on the streets below.

“We have arrived! Just step through here and give them your best performance.” Sero said with a flourish. He gestured to the doors in front.

Her best performance?

Taking in a deep breath, Jirou pushed the doors open. Her heart pounded in her chest as she was met with the sight of the royal family sitting on their thrones, including a person who was undoubtedly the Denki she had met the previous evening.

Unlike the dark cloak from before, he wore a long white overcoat embellished with gold. A glistening crown adorned his head, the same gold tone as his eyes.

Jirou found herself smiling dumbfoundedly as Denki—or would it be more respectful to call him Kaminari?—waved as discreetly as possible.

She may have figured out his identity the night before, but it was another thing to have it confirmed. It was almost surreal to think Jirou had called a crown prince insufferable to his face.

“Welcome. You are Kyouka Jirou, I presume,” Jirou briskly nodded at the Queen’s words. She gulped, sweat pooling in her palms.

In all her travels, Jirou had never actually met royalty face-to-face, not counting last night’s encounter.

“You see, our composer recently fell ill and has unfortunately had to take an early retirement. Music is very important to our kingdom, for it is the heart of our festivities,” she explained. “The palace staff were going to start their search for someone new but my darling son here recommended you. He says he heard of you from one of the palace staff, but I’m not sure that’s entirely true.”

The Queen let out a small bout of laughter as Denki glanced out of the window, guilt written in his expression. It seemed he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought.

“Anyhow, anyone who receives such a glowing recommendation from my Denki deserves to have their talent heard. This isn’t how we would usually go about this, but are you willing to perform for us?”

“Of course, your majesty!” Jirou said, eyes widening as giddiness struck her heart.

Her gaze met Denki’s as she held her lute and took in a deep breath. He nodded at her, a determined fire in his eyes. It was a small show of faith—one that instantly calmed Jirou’s nerves.

And in all the excitement, she forgot that Denki had never actually heard her play.

—————

Gnawing on her lip, Jirou paced up and down by the doors to the throne room. After watching her perform and asking a few questions, she had been sent to wait outside as the royal family deliberated.

Normally, Jirou would be able to keep her composure when it came to waiting to see if she’d been hired. But these were unusual circumstances.

She froze as the door cracked open slightly. Denki slipped through the gap, beaming as their eyes met. He gave her a little wave as he had done earlier.

“So,” he said, drawing out the ‘o’ sound.

“So you really are the prince,” she responded.

Jirou stopped fiddling with the strap of her bag and took a step forward. From the closer proximity, she could see the black bolt of lighting in his hair—exactly the same as it was drawn in the mural. Fascinating.

“Cutting straight to the point, huh, Jirou?” He said, adjusting the crown on his head. “Sorry I hid it from you. It was for my own safety,” Denki’s eyes widened as he quickly started waving his hands about. “Not that I thought you were dangerous or anything! It’s just… y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I gotta say, everything you said last night makes so much more sense now.”

Denki snorted as a laugh bubbled from his throat.

Jirou’s heart fluttered at the sound, and she found herself wanting to hear his laugh over and over again.

Woah, woah, woah. Hold on a second there, brain. Where the hell did that thought come from?

“You play beautifully,” he complimented, eyes softening. He reached forward, tucking a stray bit of hair behind Jirou’s ear. “As I knew you would.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and there was undoubtedly a blush dusting her face.

Regaining composure with a quick cough into her fist, Jirou leaned back. “Flirt.”

“Charming, aren’t I?”

Jirou rolled her eyes endearingly. There was absolutely no doubt this was the same guy from the tavern. He was such an incorrigible flirt, though deep down Jirou truly didn’t mind it.

“Will this make you stay here longer?” Denki asked, his expression hopeful.

Jirou raised a brow. She crossed her arms and leant into his space until their faces were mere centimetres apart. She smiled as his cheeks tinted to a shade that likely matched her own.

Giving in to the temptation to tease Denki as retaliation for last night’s comment about her being likely to pass out from his flirting, Jirou questioned, “Why are you so desperate to make me stay?”

He audibly gulped and then shrugged. “When we spoke last night, I felt like there was some sort of… connection between us. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I really want to know you better, Jirou, so when you mentioned work and music, it felt like fate.”

Denki took her hands in his own, his passionate gaze piercing her soul. Slowly, she intertwined their fingers and smiled.

“I think I felt that connection, too.”

“Yeah?” He asked, eyes glowing with happiness.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

Just as Kaminari opened his mouth to say something more, the doors to the throne room burst open once more. Sero walked through, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he realised he’d interrupted their moment.

They jumped apart which only made the royal aide chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked directly at the prince.

“Sero, don’t you dare.” Kaminari warned, pointing a finger. Jirou could tell by the smile Kaminari could hardly hold back that his words weren't truly meant as a threat.

Sero raised his arms and tilted his head. “Don’t jump to conclusions, your highness. I was just going to say that I see you’re already acquainted.”

Jirou’s eyes narrowed at his wording, a sudden lightness in her chest. From Sero’s phrasing, it sounded like her audition had been well received. Could that mean…?

“Congratulations, Jirou,” Sero said, winking as he pulled out a scroll which was definitely not in his hand a second ago along with a round piece of metal branded with the kingdom’s insignia identical to the one pinned to his shirt. “Welcome to the palace staff. We’ll be providing accommodation for you in the west wing, so please inform me as to when you’d like me to escort you to collect your belongings.”

Inhaling a shaky breath, she took the offered items and clutched them to her chest. It seemed she would be staying far longer than anticipated.

Her parents would likely miss her, but they had always expressed that they only wanted the best for their daughter. When she next wrote to them, Jirou knew they would understand.

Grinning, she looked over at Denki. “How about you give me a tour first? It seems like we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other, just as you wanted.”

Denki wordlessly offered his arm which Jirou looped her own through.

“Have fun, lovebirds! Don’t get too cosy, though. Royal marriage requires courtship first!”

Jirou laughed as Denki stuck his tongue out at Sero, the aide returning the childish gesture.

There was no denying the air of budding romance around them, but marriage was way off. Settling down wasn’t something she’d envisioned for her near future, but Jirou wouldn’t be surprised if she found herself wanting it soon.

#final works

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