The second Kaminari saw her, she realized three things.
She also might have shocked herself, but nevertheless.
First, they would need a large bed. Maybe a few blankets and a hundred pillows. Kaminari would make sure to provide a warm place where she could rest, where her peace would not be disturbed — maybe then she would look less tired.
Kaminari could bring her baked cookies to bed, with peanut butter and coconut flakes, the ones her mom had taught her to make. She could offer her a massage after a long day at work and playfully zap her sides with electric shocks, causing laughter, or Kaminari could just be there, breathing into those purple waves of hair as they cuddled together.
The idea was nice, and she smiled. The sparks ran up her arms anew, almost to the tips of her ears, but she held on — she knew that Sero wouldn't want to be a victim of her current again. Even if she did notice, raising an eyebrow, her attention quickly shifted to Bakugou, who was fuming in indignation.
Which was hilarious, because, second, she was cold.
She looked as if it were a normal Thursday for her, being screamed at, and those shouts only took away the airspace that she could have filled with a dozen more reasonable thoughts. She was crammed into the crowd around her, and yet her indifference set her apart from the trembling mass.
Kaminari couldn't help but wonder if she was always like this.
Her hands started to tremble, and now Sero was looking at her.
Not that Kaminari noticed, because she came forward, and her uniform was fitted like the rest of them, her tie perfectly tied around her neck, somehow emphasizing her height. Kaminari knew she could pull on that tie if she was nerby enough, to make her lean in close for Kaminari to whisper a silly compliment into her mouth, and be called silly in return.
She would have loved being called that by her soulmate. Because she was, third thing Kaminari realized. The flowers on her skin, blooming near her eye and creeping up her hair, were yellow and burning, just like the ones painted on Kaminari's wrist, and Kaminari's own lilac ones were probably the same as the ones painted on her wrist, covered from the world.
She was her soulmate, and—
“Kaminari!” Sero screeched.
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