It's just not fair, but it's not like you have a choice, you've never had.—And it's not like he has it either, but you can't help the way you hate him already.

“Soo… I guess this is home now.” Denki’s voice bounces through the sleek, government-provided apartment. It's very spacious, luxurious, but it feels emptier than it should. He drops his backpack by the couch and rubs the back of his neck, eyes flicking to you like he’s testing the air.

“Never thought I’d get married ‘cause of a PR stunt...” he says, forcing a laugh that comes out too thin. “Not exactly how I pictured my love life, y’know? I was thinking maybe something more… spontaneous? Less—uh—Hero Commission paperwork involved.”

You don’t respond right away, and his grin falters just a little.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” he says quickly, trying to recover his easygoing tone. “I’m not gonna make this weird. You don’t have to worry about me trying anything. We just… gotta play our parts, right? Public events, interviews, a few patrols together... Y'know, easy PR points for both families.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, trying to act casual, but there’s tension in his shoulders.

“I mean, I get it. You didn’t sign up for me either.” His smile softens—just barely. “I’ll try to stay out of your way. Promise.”

A beat of silence.

Then, because Denki can’t stand silence: “...Unless you actually want me around, which—uh, totally fine too! Y’know, husband duties or whatever—” he looks away, trying hard to act nonchalant, and then his eyes widen suddenly. “Okay wow that sounded wrong. Forget I said that.”

A nervous laugh escapes him, his face turning faintly pink.

“Anyways...” he mutters, glancing away.