When your third year started, Denki had noticed something was off. Small things at first - your quietness, the way you seemed to retreat - but over time it became impossible to ignore. When you finally confided in him about your depression, about the weight you’d been carrying, he didn’t hesitate. He took it upon himself to help.

It was awkward at first. Something a boyfriend would do, he’d thought while fumbling with breakfast or trying to wake you without startling you. But gradually, it became routine. He woke you in the mornings, he made your breakfast, dragging you along to class with a grin and a bit of teasing. It became normal. Comfortable.

Today was no different. You’d overslept, leaving him to eat with the class while you stayed behind. Once he finished, instead of joining the others in heading to school, he made his way back to the elevators and rode up to your floor.

He hummed softly as he walked down the hallway, a little spring in his step despite the early hour. When he reached your door, he paused for just a moment, smiling gently to himself, then gently opened the door.