#I even end in sharp classroom and just end tinkering his things

[dia-oro]

playing hogwarts legacy but only going to everywhere looking for puzzles, and getting lost at it to.

[artistrashofmine]

We got some katsuyami angst a request of @asianlychallengedasian for the exchange hosted by @protobnhaweek. It’s bit later then I was hoping due to an unforeseen power outage, though here it is at last!  AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950525                                                       

                                                            ~

UA’s doors were huge, the whole building was. It was surreal, to see it in person like this. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing the UA uniform, a backpack was thrown over his shoulder.

“We did it. I told you we would!” The blond stood tall, a glint in his red eyes as he studied the building.

A shorter boy stood beside him, shoulders hunched, messy, dark purple hair with bangs that fell over one of his eyes and freckles that dotted his checks, “yeah, Kacchan, you were right.”

“Aren’t I always? Come on! Stand up straight for fucks sake, we’re students of UA now. We’ll be heroes Yami.” The sharp grin could scare away anyone it was aimed towards, that was if they didn’t already know how harmless the humanized kitten was.

The other straightened up, “alright Kacchan. If you’re so sure... let’s go before we’re late!”

The pale blond snorted, “I got us here early so we wouldn’t be late, only an idiot would manage that.”

And with Katsuki’s smartass comments, there went the contagious, cheery spark that he latched onto a second ago. Yes, they made it into UA, against all odds - well, for Mikumo. Katsuki was pretty much fated to be a hero. They both passed the exam, he passed the exam quirkless. And yes, they were both in the hero course, in the same class together. But looking at the oblivious blond beside him, looking back on his own life, socially, they were screwed.

He couldn’t keep his nerves at bay as they walked down the hallways, already creating scenarios in his head of how their first introduction to their classmates will go. Throughout elementary and middle school he didn’t really have friends, for obvious reasons. He was quirkless, no one wanted to be friends with someone who was quirkless. And frankly, Mikumo didn’t want to be friends with them either. He wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, preferring to keep to himself when possible and avoid others. Maybe that’s because most of the ‘others’ would have rather made fun of him than actually hang out with him. Still, it left him with a lot of free time, most of which was put to good use towards the end of middle school when he got serious about becoming a hero, without a quirk. To prove them wrong, that a quirkless person could be a hero.  

Where did Katsuki play a part in this? They were childhood friends. Katsuki was there for him when he wanted. Though they did grow distant going into middle school, different interests and such. They didn’t stop talking completely. It wasn’t until the blond had caught him tinkering with a support item that they reunited.

Katsuki was smart. A child genius. Consumed knowledge as if it were his last meal. And if Mikumo was being honest, he likely wouldn’t have made it this far without the blond’s helpful comments, or moderately helpful to the “I know you meant well but that only made things worse” encouragement the blond tended to give off. With the help of the other, he was able to design a few inconspicuous items that make it almost appear as if he had a quirk. That and Katsuki had started pulling him into his workout routine. Getting up at a stupidly early time and jogging for a stupidly long time. And he had annoyed the curly-haired teen into purchasing a few weights.

Mikumo would be lying if he said the sudden workout regiment didn’t do anything. It was amazing to see the results. He had never thought of himself as unfit per se- sure he wasn’t god-level fit but it’s not like he got winded walking up a few flights of stairs or anything like that. Still, he never realized how much room there was for improvement. Katsuki appeared smug when he admitted such, claiming how that’s what he’s been trying to tell Yami.

It was a good improvement. It paid off in the end. He was here, UA, with his best friend- in the same class as his best friend.

“Yami, here, this is the classroom. You’re always so slow!” The dark-haired teen hated to see how the rest of the class was going to react to them. It was impossible for Katsuki to keep his voice at a moderate volume. Even more impossible for him to forego sharing his honest opinion.

It didn’t help that he had no mind when those opinions became insulting. Yamikumo didn’t mind it for the most part, he knew the blond didn’t mean anything bad by his words. Actually, he usually meant the opposite, to encourage others. Still, no one else knew that. They didn’t have years of experience in understanding the odd character’s way with words. They would likely take offence, but as long as he didn’t get like that right off the bat, maybe they’d have a chance of fitting in. Well, Katsuki would. Yamikumo was pretty well screwed either way, not only was he inexperienced when it came to the whole social thing- he was quirkless and a quirkless teen in a hero class was bound to stand out. They were bound to figure out he didn’t have any quirk. After all, “what’s your quirk?” was as common a question as “the weather, huh?”.

And Kacchan was good at making the fact that he was quirkless a big deal - yeah, he meant well, he meant it as a way to brag about Mikumo’s success, but still, the dark-haired teen preferred not to be the center of attention.

Long story short, they were screwed. Their high school life was screwed. Though, it was a hero school. He could only hope his peers would be kind, kinder than those in middle school.

Turns out they took plus ultra quite seriously. His classmates were beyond Kumo’s expectations. There was the brown-haired girl, he had helped her in the entrance exam. The first friend he’s made since Katsuki. Then came the others, the class president of whom he was originally quite reluctant of - the first person Katsuki had managed to criticize to the point of offence - “why the hell don’t you wear contacts, four-eyes?”- soon followed with a- “Soumei… a rich family then, I guess you could afford glasses every time they fall off your fucking face”.

Then there was Endeavour’s son, son of the number two hero. As a result, Katsuki appeared to be quite eager to beat the guy. Though Mikumo honestly didn’t care all that much. He didn’t care as much for the mainstream heroes. Well, honestly, he was yet to find a hero he cared much for. After getting rejected by the number one hero, that kind of shit put a bad taste in your mouth.

Speaking of the number one, he was teaching here. Talk about awkwardness. It would have been fine if Katsuki didn’t stick his nose into things, he’s sure All Might hadn’t recognized him, not until the blond started talking. Once he heard from Yami on what happened between the two of them, the blond wasn’t afraid to tell All Might what he thought.

Katsuki was something. He could be exhausting, but he was still the freckled student’s best friend.

But maybe they needed a break.

“It’s a miracle we’re both here, Yami.” The realization came after their recent argument, Mikumo had snapped. He’s snapped at the blond before, whenever he went too far.

“What do you mean?” But this time was different, he hadn’t a clue on what the other was going on about.

 He tended to get lost in his own thoughts as he let the other go off, talking about whatever self-improvements he could make, before going on to review Yami’s day.

“Well, you are quirkless. There’s never been a hero like that before-” Ah, something like this again. It’s been about a month since they’ve started at UA. Katsuki was still going on about how impressive it was.

“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t make it…” the green eyes squinted at the grinning blond, “you know me better than that.”

“Well yeah of course I do, why’d you think I called it a miracle?”  Seriously, how could someone be so bad with words? He clenched his jaw, Yamikumo knew Katsuki meant it as a compliment, knew the blond meant nothing bad by it.

Still, he couldn’t help but snap, “and you wonder why I’m your only friend Kacchan.”

Maybe Bakugou went too far this time as well. And usually Katsuki caught on. Sometimes he’d have to be more direct about it, but he usually could tell when he went too far, when he actually pissed the purple-haired teen off.

“Huh?” The red eyes blinked at him, despite how long they’ve known each other, the purple-haired teen never knew when the other was joking or not. But looking into the confused red eyes, he could tell Katsuki was serious. He had no idea why Yamikumo was on the last straw with him, no idea what Yami was upset about.

It was crazy to think that the guy just didn’t get it, but he didn’t. No matter how often Yamikumo tried to explain it to him, their classmates were still trying to get used to it. But maybe, maybe they’ve been taking the wrong approach, trying to get used to it as they wait for the blond to figure it out himself.

He was never going to. It’s been years.

And this fight was somehow different. This time Mikumo wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Fine Kacchan. Come find me when you finally get it.”

He’d have to get it at some point.

And maybe it was because UA was treating him well, he had actual friends for once- either then the blond beside him. He couldn’t wait around, re-explaining it to the blond for another ten years. It’s gone on too long, it’s been adding up to this.

Maybe it’ll be the push Katsuki needs.

So Yamikumo walked away.

Bakuogu Katsuki felt lonely, felt alone. He’s never had something like this happen to him, not with Yamikumo at least. Sure, he knew he tended to piss people off. Sometimes he knew why, but usually it was a mystery.  He didn’t intentionally want to make people feel like shit, especially the purple-haired teen. Yamikumo was his best friend, one of the few people he was close with. He wasn’t supposed to leave. That wasn’t part of the plan. They were supposed to become heroes together . The two of them against the world - of course, that saying was bullshit and made no sense but Katsuki was certain it could be applied to this situation. They were in this together, always had been.

Bakugou didn’t factor in their future classmates. That was likely his problem. Yamikumo now had friends. He was popular in the class and Katsuki, well, was not. It only made sense for the other to drop him. Katsuki didn’t have a good way with words, even worse understanding of their effect on others. He was good at math, good at biology, excelled in chemistry. Language had always been his weak area.  And consequently, that meant socialization. Not that he cared to socialize with most people anyway. Everyone in their middle school was a moron. Even in elementary school, he rose above everyone else. No one could compare with him. It made no sense to stay friends with people who didn’t actually try, yet remained envious of the blond’s accomplishments.

That and he tended to piss people off. Sometimes the truth was too harsh for people to understand, and sometimes Katsuki had a hard time understanding how he pissed someone off to begin with. The case was no different at UA. Sure, he wouldn’t mind getting along with many of his classmates, they seemed like good people for the most part. And they couldn’t be that stupid, they were in one of the top schools, being taught by heroes to become heroes. It was fucking amazing. Everyone here was a part of a small group of the students who had applied to be in this position. Many of which stood a fighting chance, or at least had enough confidence in themselves to believe that. So yes, if Katsuki were to believe in miracles, this would be one. Hence what he told Yamikumo. After all, that was one of those things people said, or so the blond had thought.

He didn’t understand why the other got so upset over it. Did Katsuki really mess up that badly this time? He’s said some shitty stuff in the past, the other had never been afraid to call the blond out for it, why was it different this time around?

Because of others, that’s why it was different. Yamikumo didn’t need Katsuki anymore. He had other friends, other people he could go to. Yaoyorozu was the smartest in the class, she has a creation quirk. Yami could go to her for anything he needed. And he could brainstorm with anyone in the class. He got along with them all, and everyone liked him.

Katsuki didn’t try to get along with anyone else. He didn’t think he needed to. He had the freckled teen as a study partner, or talk over ideas with. He didn’t need anyone else. Maybe now it was time to rethink that.

The first person Katuski had actually started to get along with in the class was the redhead, Kirishima. Which was strange, because the blond hadn’t been very quiet about his distaste for the painfully fake coloured, unnaturally spiked abomination atop his head. It was practically a warning signal for villains; yes, I am here, the hero with the shitty-hair who turns their body to stone. Though, the blond had to admit his quirk would work well as a defence against Katsuki’s own explosions.

Still, he hadn’t outright told that to the other- he didn’t need anyone knowing his weakness. So that made it all the stranger when the redhead with the shark teeth laughed off Katsuki’s brutal honesty. No one had done that before, most people got offended. And outright pissed when the blond refused to apologize. Katsuki hadn’t bothered paying any mind to Kirishima. Other than his quirk, he wasn’t all that impressive. And Katsuki had Yamikumo. But now, well, the redhead was increasingly more difficult to ignore when the blond had no one else to turn to. No one to eat lunch with, or choose as a sparring partner. But Kirishima practically volunteered himself to work with Katsuki.

That was a first.

It didn’t feel bad. Katuski wondered if this was the beginning of a new friendship. Though it felt different from his relationship with the purple-haired teen. Something was missing. He missed the other. It had always been them, Yamikumo had always been special to him. Katsuki didn’t want that to change.

It was the end of the week, they had finished off training when Katsuki had finally found Yamikumo alone. When he was finally able to talk to the other, to confront him. The other had been waiting outside the changing room. The blond had been the last in there, he wondered if the purple-haired teen had the same idea to confront Katsuki. If he realized how hopeless the blond was at communicating. This time, he wouldn’t let the other start. He wouldn’t have the other fishing for apologies.

“I’m sorry okay! I- fuck, I’m bad at this, you know that, but it’s no excuse… I don’t-” Truly, the one thing Katsuki was bad at, what was he supposed to say? He still didn’t know but he couldn’t stay quiet, he had to be the one to start this conversation, “are you fucking crying?”

That wasn’t what he expected the result to be. He apologized, he thought that’s what the other wanted. He didn’t think he said anything wrong yet, he thought this was likely one of the few times he was aware of what he was saying, of the meaning behind what he was trying to say.

“Kacchan, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just ignored you like that! It was horrible of me. I just- ” Nor did he expect the other to apologize, after all, he did have the right to get upset at the blond, “I got so frustrated.”

“I know - I’m trying to understand.” It was difficult, more difficult than it should be, “I don’t see things the way you do - fuck, I don’t see things the way most of you do. When I say something, it’s not supposed to hurt anyone, but it does. I don’t understand, but I’m trying to.”

“Kat…” He had that determined look upon his face, the same one he had when deciding to become a quirkless hero,  “I’ve missed you.”

The blond’s face broke out into a grin that could mirror the sun, “me too, Yami.”

This, this was how they were supposed to be. Together, no matter what was going to happen. Working things out, teaching each other, learning from mistakes. Not ignoring each other.

“And I didn’t mean it,” Katuski’s eyebrow creased, “about the no friends thing. You belong here, with us, with them - your friends. They love you.”

The teen looked almost reluctant, as if he were giving Katsuki away, saying goodbye or some shit like that.

Katsuki stared at the other, red eyes hardened, “I want to be with you.”

“What do you mean by that?!” The other's face flushed- an unusual feat for Yamikumo.

“We’ll be heroes together, promise me?” The face-value meaning of the words made Katsuki feel stupid, but he knew that Kumo would understand what the blond was trying to convey, the insecurity he didn’t want to admit to, the hope that they’d remain by each other’s side no matter what.

With a genuine smile, the other replied, “of course Kacchan, together.”  

[castellankurze]

26. how dare [you]

A Completely Normal Skill

“Noooooo! How can one person be so unlucky?!” the girl cried, pulling uselessly at the handle of the classroom door.

“Kaori, calm down and tell us what happened,” interjected a calm voice.  Three more girls had gathered around their panicked compatriot, their presence representing the entire female side of the high school disciplinary committee.  Yuko crossed her arms and turned a sharp look on her fellow senior, but for once the glower of admonishment didn’t seem to help Kaori pull herself together.

“Professor Watanabe locked his door after he left,” Kaori wailed, “and I left my tablet in his room and it has all my scheduling on it!”

A collective gasp went through the gathered girls, but Yuko regained her composure after a moment and frowned more deeply.  “Kaori, we’ve talked about your leaving your tablet alone before,” she said in her best I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed voice.

“I know, I know, but I ran out to ask Shinji a question and I was only going to leave it for a few seconds but I forgot the door would swing closed and it locked on meeeee!” Kaori sobbed, giving up on her useless attempts to turn the knob and dropping to her haunches so that her forehead thumped against the pitiless wooden surface.

“It’s okay Kaori,” said Emiko in a gentle tone, “we’ll just go find the custodian and they’ll let you in.”

“Yeah,” echoed Hibiki, “they have all the keys.”

“No we can’t!” Kaori protested.  “Mr. Osada said that if he had to unlock another door after hours for me he’d get me written up!”

Another collective gasp stunned the group.  A moment later Yuko stomped a foot and loomed over her cohort.  “Kaori, how many times have you gotten yourself locked out of classrooms?” she demanded.

“A couple,” admitted the other girl.

Yuko pressed her fingertips to her brow in exasperation.  “Well now we can’t go to the custodial staff or they’ll just assume we’re covering for you.”

“We can ask someone to call Professor Watanabe and see if he’ll come back,” Emiko suggested.

“Yeah,” echoed Hibiki, “he doesn’t live too far from the school, it probably wouldn’t be too much to ask.”

“That will reflect badly on us,” Yuko argued, though it was little more than token resistance.  She sighed.  “But, if there’s no alternative…”

She was interrupted by laughter from down the hall.  “And here I thought you had to have discipline to serve on the disciplinary committee,” an all-too-familiar voice said.  Yuko’s stomach shot up into her throat; that was the absolute last person she wanted to see them in their current state.  Steeling herself, she turned to see Shouko Kogawa leaning against a nearby row of lockers, her motorcycle jacket thrown over her school uniform, a white cylinder hanging from the corner of her mouth as she sneered.

“What are you doing here so late, Kogawa?” Emiko demanded, stepping between Kaori and the troublemaker.  “You’re not on any of the school committees.

“Professor Honda gave me detention,” the other girl replied.

“Three hours of it?” Hibiki questioned.

“I served it all at once,” Shouko responded.

“Are you really smoking right here, in front of us?” Yuko snarled.  

Shouko raised an eyebrow, her grin frozen on her face, before she slowly lifted a hand to pinch the white cylinder between fore- and middle finger and extracted it from her mouth to reveal a dull red lump of sugar which she licked once before popping it back in her mouth.

Yuko coughed.  “Alright, well, you’ve had your fun, now keep moving,” she said, making her voice strident.  “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Actually I was about to offer you a deal,” the other girl replied, grinning crookedly.  “But if you’re not interested…”

“How dare you,” Yuko responded.  "This committee doesn’t make deals with the devil.”

“Not even if the devil can save your friend’s bacon?“  Kogawa leaned forward, grinning like a goblin.  "I can get you into Professor Watanabe’s room.  I’ll even keep quiet about everything.  In return for you laying off me for a month or two, huh?” Shouko replied, lifting her chin and laying a hand at her hip.  Yuko thought she saw horns on the girl’s brow for a moment.

“Forget about it, Kogawa,” she said firmly.

“Oh well.  Guess you’ll have to call the custodians then.  Have fuuuun,~” the delinquent singsonged, shrugging and beginning to turn away.

“Waaaaaaiiiiit!” Kaori cried out, sprinting past Yuko to screech to a halt in front of Kogawa, bowing and clapping her hands together in a pitiful display.  “Please, please don’t go!  I need my tablet!”

“Kaori!” Yuko rejoined.  A moment later and her fellow committee member was clutching at her vest, turning wet eyes up at her.

"Please!  It’s not such a bad deal, Yuko,” she pleaded.  "We can tell people we’re giving her a little slack, and after a month, when she keeps on screwing up-“

"Hey!”

“-we can come down on her then.  Please?”

Yuko clenched her fists for a moment, but in the face of the desperate entreaty she broke and sighed.  "I won’t overlook anything that’s actually illegal, you understand?“ she said sharply, attempting to rally the shreds of her dignity.  Kogawa nodded.  "Alright.  Fine.  It’s a deal, Kowaga.”

“Alright alright alright,” the interloper said, bouncing forward to join the gathering, taking out her sucker and passing it off to Emiko.  "Hold this.“  Emiko took the half-melted treat by the very end of the stick, looking a little grossed out.  "All of you, turn around,” Kogawa added as she stepped up to the door and began to rummage in a jacket pocket.

“Why?  What are you going to do?” Yuko asked.

“Open the door.  You just don’t need to see how,” Kogawa responded.  Seething, Yuko turned about and listed to the sounds of metal on metal, her teeth gritted.

“Good to know you carry a lockpick on a daily basis, Kogawa,” she growled.

“I prefer to think of it as being prepared for an emergency.  Like this one,” Kogawa replied.

“How do you know it’ll work on a classroom door?  How many times have you used that before?” she accused.  

“Relax.  I’ve never done anything illegal,” the delinquent said, mocking Yuko’s tone.  A few more moments of her tinkering and there was the distinct sound of a classroom door being opened.  "And there you go,“ she said triumphantly.  Kaori bolted inside, fast enough that even Kogawa seemed nonplussed at her reaction time, letting out a noise of relief as she clutched her tablet to her chest.

By the time Yuko had turned around, Kogawa’s hand was inside her jacket and the offending device already out of sight.  "If I ever see that out-”

“You won’t,” Kogawa assured her, taking back her sucker from Emiko and hanging it from the corner of her mouth once more.

“Thank you Kogawa!” Kaori said, too busy being relieved to back up her committee head.

“It was nothing,” Kogawa said with a wink as she began to walk away.

“Where did you even learn to use such a thing?” Yuko demanded of her before she could reach the hallway intersection.

Kogawa paused and twisted to look back, her grin gone, her face set in a hard expression.  "Let’s just say there was a time in my life I had to make a hard choice,“ she said grimly.  "A choice you would never understand.”  With that she turned once more and walked away.

“Why does she have to be so cool when she says things like that,” Emiko sighed.

“Yeah,” echoed Hibiki, “it’s not fair she gets to sound so tough when she says such things.”

“You stop that,” Yuko said, fighting down the urge to whack their heads together.  "She probably did something ridiculously illegal and you shouldn’t be admiring her for it!“

"Yes ma'am,” the pair responded in unison.  Yuko folded her arms and began to walk in the opposite direction.  The other three fell in behind her, Kaori still making a soft cooing noise as she clutched her tablet.  Despite herself, Yuko couldn’t help wondering what situation Kogawa had found herself in and what kind of choice she’d been forced to make.  A little shiver went through her shoulders.

———

TWO YEARS EARLIER

“MOOOOOOOOM, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Shouko hollered into the phone.

“I’m sorry, honey, I really thought I took it off the keychain before I left,” Kyoko’s voice responded.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET INTO THE MAILBOX WITHOUT THE KEY?  I HAVE THINGS I NEED IN THERE!” the sixteen-year-old wailed.

“Well, I can rush it back to Japan in a day or two-”

“A day or two?!  Mom this is why I asked you to make sure you left it to begin with!” the teenager admonished.

“When I get back I’ll make you a duplicate so it doesn’t happen again,” Kyoko promised.  "What’s so important that it can’t wait even a day?“

"It…well, it…” Shouko trailed off and sighed, putting her face in her hands.

“Shouko, is this an emergency emergency, or can it wait a few days?” Kyoko asked suspiciously.

“It can wait,” Shouko said miserably.  

“Okay.  I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

“Okay,” Shouko said.  The moment the call was ended, though, she screeched at the ceiling of the empty house.  "WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?  MOM WON’T BE HOME FOR ANOTHER FOUR DAYS!  I CAN’T WAIT FOUR DAYS!“  She clutched her head and shook it ferociously, her long blue hair whipping wildly in all directions.  Her chair had rolled back a couple feet from the desk thanks to her antics, and so she had to drag it back up as she began pounding at her keyboard with furious fingers.

Two google searches and several youtube videos later, she ran out to the hardware store to make a purchase, bouncing from foot to foot with frantic energy the whole time she waited for the bus.  She returned with a bag under one arm and vanished into her house for a few more instructional videos before emerging once more and crossing to the bank of locked boxes used by the set of houses where she lived trying not to look suspicious even as she glanced nervously over her shoulder every few seconds.

Her tongue slipped from the corner of her mouth as she tried to work with trembling fingers, jostling at the lock and trying to go by feel the way she’d been advised.  A neighbor passed by and she forced a smile and a few cheery words, playing it off liek she’d mixed up her keys before returning to her efforts.  Evening was coming on and the light was fading, and just as she was about to give up and go fling herself into bed and have a cry, she felt the lock give.

Spirits rising, Shouko twisted and pulled the mailbox plate open.  Inside the metal container was a key for one of the large-delivery boxes, and Shouko squealed as she grabbed it, doing her best to close the individual box again before crossing to the larger set and popping it open, grabbing up the large box inside and scampering back to her house with her ill-gotten gains.

The skeleton was a foot tall, its frame streaked with blood, its mouth open in a scream, posture hunched so as to bring to bear the twin rocket launchers built into its shoulders.  The packaging was left on her bed where she’d torn through it, with only the statue itself placed high on a shelf, a spot where it could overlook the night’s proceedings in the company of several other such pieces. The dark room echoed with the roar of an automatic rifle and the pulse of dubstep as she shot her way through a clutch of demon-possessed zombies.  

The improvised lock picks sat on a corner of her desk.  When her mom got home she’d have to order something more specialized.  Just in case this ever happened again.

[randomheadcanons]

A Maybe Multi-Chapter Fic. Pt. 1

Tally found the room she was looking for with relative ease. She’d been there a couple times before, on the request of her friend Justin, and this time was no different.

Except for the sling that her left arm was in, but who’s counting?

Tally knocked on the door hinge before entering the classroom. The classroom was neat and clean; there were approximately 20 desks expertly aligned in rows of 4, facing the front of the room. The low bookshelves that sat by the windows were lined with books of all types, ranging from fantasy to autobiographies. On the walls hung charts that kept track of children’s reading habits, and other motivational posters. Justin’s desk was the same as the last time she was here; a sleek laptop sitting on top of a monthly desk planner, the edges of the desk lined with folder organizers and pencil cups, along with a succulent that Cat had gifted Justin for his birthday. And of course, the “Mr. Williams” name plate that sat in the middle.

Tally turned her attention to Mr. Williams as he was writing in bring scrawling letters -CAREER DAY- on the board. She grinned. She could tell by the way his hand bounced with the chalk that he was looking to forward to the lesson today, the early hour doing nothing to dissuade his mood. Tally did notice the 4 coffee cups on the podium next to him though, and she smiled.

“Morning,” Justin said brightly, before turning around. “I got everyone coffee.”

Tally grinned, walking to the front of the room and picking up a cup. “No sneaking up on you ever, huh?”

Justin shrugged, dusting off his hands of the excess chalk particles before grabbing his own cup. “You knocked,” He said matter-of-factly, then frowned at her, a sharp crease forming in between his eyebrows. “What’d you do?”

Tally shrugged, moving her shoulder a bit. “Getting old.” She grinned, then shook her head. “Nah, it was a sparring match that a rookie got too over zealous in.”

Justin quirked an eyebrow, “So you tweaked your shoulder, huh?” He guessed.

Tally nodded, “Fell on it wrong, is all.”

“Maybe you are getting old,”

Tally snorted, “Takes one to know one.” She said. Tally studied Justin’s face for a moment and considered her statement. They were in their late-20’s now, even though that was a wild concept to her. The scars that took up the majority of his face were present as ever, but the edges seemed to have softened, as scars tend to do with time. She noticed a bit of stubble trying to peak out of his chin. She touched it. “Are you growing a beard?” She asked in surprise. “Or did you just forget to shave?”

Justin bobbed his head to each side as he rubbed his chin. “Considering getting one, is all.”

Tally hummed. “Might be a good look,” She offered. “Just don’t get a goatee.”

“Who’s getting a goatee?” Another voice chimed in from the doorway to the classroom. The two at the board turned and smiled in greeting at the new visitor.

“Justin is,” Tally chirped.

Cat grimaced as she came in, an ever-lanky Guy following behind.

“I wasn’t,” Justin assured.

“I could see it,” Guy grinned, bouncing over to grab his coffee that he knew was going to be waiting for him.

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Cat said, before considering Justin’s face. “I don’t think I would mind a well kempt beard though,”

Justin spread his hands. “I’m just giving it a shot, is all.” He repeated.

“Well now I’m invested in it.” Guy said, leaning on the podium before taking a swig of his coffee. “So you have to commit. You should name it Comet.”

“Comet?” Justin asked. “You want to name my may-be beard ‘Comet’?”

Guy nodded. “Yep,” He affirmed. “I do. I expect it turned in by next week,” he said, taking a ruler and tapping the board with it.

Justin rolled his eyes. “You guys suck,”

Cat laughed, “You’re the one who keeps asking us to do this, babe.”

“Woe is me,” Justin agreed, glancing at the clock. “Thanks for coming so early, by the way. This was the only time we could fit it in,”

“No prob,” Tally assured.  Tally looked at her friends. It was bizarre; seeing them-and herself-as older. Cat was gorgeous as ever, her confidant smile radiating wherever she went. She had cut her hair a bit shorter as the years went by, and it was sitting in a neat, poofy bun at the back of her head. Her subtle baby bump was nestled snuggly underneath her pants, looking effortless.

Guy was as lanky as ever, age not really feeling him out like Tally thought it would have. His hair, contrary to Cat’s, did get a bit longer, and he kept it in a small bun underneath his ever-present goggles. A couple years back, Guy went to go do some soul searching, and while the crew missed him, Tally thought that it did him a lot of good. He came back surer of what he wanted out of life, and he came back with a better sense of self. It showed in his better-groomed eyebrows, Tally thought. Tally was brought out of her reminiscing when Justin piped up.

“The kids should be filtering in the next few minutes.” Justin estimated, “Feel free to set up a power point or whatever,”

“None of us have ever done a power point for this,” Guy reminded. Again, Justin rolled his eyes.

“Hey Tal,” Cat asked, turning toward the redhead. “What’d you do, babe?” She asked, gesturing to the sling.

Tally shrugged, “Tweaked my shoulder.” She explained again, “I’m in it for about a week,”

Cat crinkled her nose. “Sucks,”

Tally nodded in agreement. “Oh!” she said, gathering the attention of her other friends as well. “I have a file here with me that I’d like you guys to look at with me. I’m not sure if there’s something I’m missing or not.” She said, patting her bookbag.

Justin nodded as the first students started to file in. “Sure,” He agreed. “After the period lets out,”

The room quickly started to fill up with chatter from excited 6th graders as they came in to school for the day. Justin greeted them as they walked in, waving and ushering them to take their seats and chat quietly.

Cat perked up when her little brother entered. She nodded at him. “Yo Thomas,” The boy in question looked up and waved, giving a grin before taking his seat.

“Hey Cat,” he greeted. “Hey Guy,”

Guy waved from his spot at the podium.

When the last of his kids filtered in and took their seats, Justin stood at the front of class. “Good morning, guys,” He greeted. He clapped softly. “Today, as you know, is career day.” He held up a hand. “I know it’s a Friday, and I know it’s early,” he assured. “But we have guests, so try and pay attention and be active listeners, yeah?” He was greeted with sparse ‘yeses’, and ‘yeahs’. “Good,” He said, then gestured to the three adults in the front.

“The guy at the podium is, well, Guy,” Justin introduced. The aforementioned green-bean waved in greeting to the class. “He’s an engineer, and a tinkerer. Cat is next to him. She is the executive director, and also the founder of a nonprofit in town,” Cat then greeted the class with a nod and a wave. “And lastly, this is Tally. She is a detective with NYPD.” Tally gave a thumbs up with her right hand. “Now, remember, be respectful as they’re telling you about their careers.” Justin reminded, before stepping out of the middle of the front, and instead settled to lean against a bookshelf, and letting Guy step up to the middle and begin his speech.

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The period went by fairly well. The kids asked some neat questions, in Tally’s opinion. Thomas tried to be smart with Cat, and ask her some tough questions. But she answered them expertly while giving him a definite glare, at which a couple of kids snickered.  Tally had to admit to herself that she was a little perplexed as to why she didn’t get more questions; in years past she usually got the brunt of them. Questions about detective work; mostly curious kids asking if it was like what they saw in TV and movies. “More paperwork,” she had responded with a face. Regardless of her lack of questions, she was glad that Guy’s bit seemed to garner the most interest out of the class. Maybe his presentation would inspire some kids to get into engineering or mechanics.

At the end of the Q&A, Justin pushed off of the bookshelf he was leaning on and returned to the front of class as the bell ring. “Thank you for being respectful and active listeners,” He called over the shuffling of books and bags. “Have a good next class,” He said, as the last two children rushed out of the room. He turned back towards his friends with a smile. “Thanks again, guys.”

“Duh,” Tally said with a smile, downing the last couple sips of now room temperature coffee.

“You’re a natural,” Cat complimented, before reaching over and smoothing his collar. “Every time I see you stand up here, I’m like, ‘Boy has it’,” she grinned.

“Remember how scared you were your first day?” Guy grinned. “We were all packed in that first apartment you and me had and we packed you a lunch.”

Justin made a face. “Scared is a strong word.” He defended. “Nervous is a better one.”

“I dunno, man,” Tally grinned. “You went to bed at like 6pm the night before to ‘get the optimal amount of sleep’” she said in a mocking tone.

“And it worked.” Justin defended further.

“You still the hot teacher?” Guy asked with a smile.

Justin went red and rubbed the back of his neck.

“That’s a yes,” Cat laughed.

Justin grinned back, shaking his head. “Anyway.” He said, changing the subject. “Tally, that file?”

“Oh yeah,” Tally said, digging her bag. She pulled out a thing manila folder with the NYPD logo on it.

“That’s thinner than usual isn’t it?” Cat asked curiously, as Tally laid it out on Justin’s teachers desk. The red head nodded.

“Which is why it’s weird to me.” She explained. “There have been a couple of hits in seemingly random places,”

“You think they’re connected?” Justin asked, examining the file’s contents as he leaned over his desk. Tally sucked on her cheek.

“I don’t think they’re not connected, if that makes sense. Its stuff cops wouldn’t spend more than a week on, usually. Like, they would usually find the guy. But all of these cases have been left unsolved for like 3 weeks.”

“What are they stealing?” Guy asked, knocking his head to the side as he looked over Justin’s shoulder.

“That’s the thing,” Tally said. “Stuff that you wouldn’t think would be connected unless you looked at the timeline of each crime. They’ve all happened on a Thursday, one week after the other, after midnight.”

“That’s suspicious,” Cat said immediately. Tally nodded.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Okay, yeah,” Guy said again, “But what are they stealing?”

“One hit was on the power plant a couple weeks back,”

“Oh yeah, I saw that on the news,” Justin affirmed. Tally nodded continuing.

“Yeah, they stole some spare unfinished arches and giant tubes,”

Guy’s nose scrunched up. “What’re they trying to do with that?” He asked, rubbing his cheek.

“Not sure, but the second hit was on a scrap yard across town. They stole a ton of shit, but police aren’t too concerned because people steal from there all the time,”

“And also,” Cat interjected, “Because it’s scrap metal.”

“Exactly,” Tally agreed.

“The most recent hit happened last week. This one’s kind of a random, they stole industrial sized fans. Like, huge ass fans the size of this room.”

“Weird,” Justin said.

“But two’s coincidence,” Guy started.

“Three’s a pattern,” Justin finished, looking at his taller friend. “Any ideas?”

Guy knocked his head to each side a couple times. “I dunno, maybe some sort of big thing that would cause a lot of heat?” He suggested, “That’s what the fans would be for; to cool it down. But none of those things are like power sources to turn anything on.”

“Why wouldn’t they steal anything nuclear from the plant?” Cat asked.

“Maybe they were waiting to get something more powerful?” Justin suggested.

“Today is Thursday,” Tally said thoughtfully, looking at her phone.

“You have an idea?”

Tally shrugged. “Not sure if it’s too farfetched, but,” She paused. “If I was trying to build something that needed a lot of energy, and if I was in a city that housed a technically off the record research facility, I would go there.”

“TCRI?” Cat asked.

“Maybe,” Tally said, looking at her friends. “I’m not making this up though, right?” she asked. “Like, I’m not seeing something that’s not there?”

Justin shook his head, closing the file. “I don’t think so,” he said. He rubbed his chin. “There’s also suspiciously no signs of break-ins. Everything just vanished. And you know who that sounds like.” He said with a heavy sigh.

Tally nodded. “Yeah,” She agreed. “They’ve been quiet lately, but Karai may be planning something.

“But why would they do it so methodically?” Cat asked, “Like, every Thursday after midnight?”

“It’s not not on purpose,” Justin said, wrapping his knuckles on his desk lightly.

“You think they want someone to catch on?” Guy asked. Justin shrugged.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Maybe the turtles?”

“Well,” Tally sighed as she took back the file, putting it in her backpack. “I was going to head over to the lair this afternoon to see what they thought of it, if anything.”

Cat shrugged, “Wouldn’t be a bad idea. And if you need someone to tag along,” She winked. “I’m there, baby,”

Tally grinned, “And so would the baby, baby.” Cat grinned back. Tally knocked her knuckles on the table. “Okay, cool.” She said. “Thanks guys, I’ll see what I can see, and I’ll keep you in the loop.” She said, just as a new set of school children started to filter in the classroom for the next period.

Justin nodded as he walked the three of his friends to the door of his room. “Yep,” He agreed. “Keep safe,” He instructed. “We still on for ramen on Saturday?” He asked.

Guy nodded. “You know I love that salty goodness!” He assured.

“We’ll be there,” Cat agreed, slipping her hand into Guy’s.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tally nodded, slinging her backpack over her shoulders.

“Good,” Justin said. “See you later.”

The three guests made their way out of the school and to the parking lot. Guy and Cat turned toward their car, and Tally turned toward the subway.

“Say hi to the guys for me!” Cat called.

Tally nodded with a smile, “Of course!” she called back, before heading off.

[jadewing-realms]

gathering flock

“Are you going to explain?” Sasuke mutters aside to his small companion as they trudge, equally backpack-laden, up final stretch of tree-lined street leading up to their hallowed destination. He keeps his tone unimpressed but sharp—his specialty, crafted to simultaneously intimidate and obligate this particular person, the object of his mild exasperation. “Or are you going to make me ask?”

The trip from their neighborhood to U.A. isn’t all that bad. It’s a decently quaint, scenic route, and it’s taken just long enough for a proper conversation along the way. And it’s been a few days since their last proper conversation.

Izuku, actually, hasn’t really been consistently in touch since the whole ‘sludge monster’ incident. And that was an incident Sasuke had to learn about that on the news right after it happened. Which he still isn’t happy about. Watching his Quirkless friend race into the camera frame from the helicopter view had admittedly been both exhilarating and terrifying, which Sasuke had already explained at this point—twice. One one hand, it was incredibly brave and just what he’s come to expect from his best friend. On the other hand, it was incredibly stupid. And for Bakugou? Please.

This all happened ten months ago.

All things considered, it’s not like Sasuke can really blame Izuku. What with grad prep, final exams, taking all the necessary preparations leading up to today of all days, they and all of their classmates have been running themselves ragged. Sasuke’s been working hard to develop special equipment and filling out paperwork specially for today, and he knows Izuku’s been working out quite a bit, which heaven knows he’ll need in just a few short hours. But this thinning of their usual time spent together isn’t the problem, even if they do live on the same street. No, no, this inquiry is for a different purpose entirely.

And now that most of their regular chitchat is out of the way, Sasuke has questions. After all, it’s not every day one finds one’s best friend leaving a beach from which one witnesses the most famous Hero of all time launching away.

If Izuku had known All Might was there, Sasuke has no doubt in his mind that the little fanboy would’ve been rocketing toward the waterfront. So he wants to know why Izuku had instead been walking away—as if his idol wasn’t right behind him a second earlier. Which only meant Izuku already knew—and had seemingly had direct contact for the first time in his life.

Sasuke wants to know how it went.

Now, Izuku blinks at his abrupt questions, and then has the gall to give him a blankly inquisitive stare. “Uh, I’m not sure what—”

“All Might,” Sasuke interrupts via explanation. “You met him on that beach. You were almost late because of it.”

All at once, Izuku breaks out in a sudden bout of Anxiety, as he is apt to do when he’s put on the spot. Which… is incredibly easy to do. It usually doesn’t happen with Sasuke, though, so that’s odd… “W-Whaaat? I—”

“Tch, that wasn’t an accusation,” Sasuke snorts. “Relax.”

“I-I knew that… Um…” Izuku struggles to formulate a response, by the way he bites his lower lip and fiddles with his bangs between his fingers. “Y-Yeah. I was… jogging. And happened upon him… cleaning up trash. I got to say ‘hi’…”

Sasuke eyes him sidelong. That’s quite the faltering response, and he’s not sure he understands why… Then again, no matter how long Sasuke’s known him, Izuku seems incredibly embarrassed of his devotion to the Number One Hero. Maybe that’s it. “Hmm. That’s cool.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, it was!” The anxiety lingers just long enough to make Izuku watch his sneakers for three more steps, before his expression softens. The nerves simmer down, leaving that same old admiration behind in its wake. Which suits him much better, to be honest. “He really is amazing, you know?”

“You’d know better than me. I’ve never met him.”

Which is true. Sasuke’s been to several rallies and speeches, but he’s never gotten to interact with All Might directly. Which… used to bother him, a long time ago. When he was much smaller, younger… more innocent? He’s not sure. In any case, it’s not quite so disappointing to him now. What would he say? ‘Hello, nice to meet you, please sign my backpack’ and then it’d be over and he would probably never talk to the Hero again. Is he truly missing out on that much?

Beside him, Izuku seems to shrink again, ducking his head against his uniform collar. After all, he’s met All Might in person twice, now. “Right. S-Sorry…”

Sasuke sighs. “You’re apologizing again.”

“Ah! Sor—”

“Midoriya.”

“…th-thank you for your patience?”

“…hn. Better, I guess.”

A sort-of comfortable silence falls between them, filled only by the clip of their shoes on the cold pavement. Theirs, and others too; the street is filling up with people of all shapes, sizes, colors. Some with horns, hair in ungodly colors, tails, wings, name it and they’re there. And despite their diversity, Sasuke knows exactly what they’re all here for.

“So, did you get your tinkering done last night?” Izuku breaks the quietness, at which Sasuke tears his eyes away from the growing crowd of competition and settles his gaze on his friend’s inquisitive face.

“Of course I did. I didn’t have a choice. There’s no way I could come here today without something.” Sasuke lets out a quiet huff of disgruntlement. This is something he’s known for years, but in no way has that time made the fact any easier to put up with. Having a combat-based Quirk would make things so much easier…

Then again, who is he to complain? Izuku has nothing. Just remembering that makes a dagger of guilt twist in Sasuke’s insides.

Unaware of his inner chagrin, Izuku’s expression lights up like Kyoto Tower, a beaming grin somehow doing nothing to narrow his wide, starry eyes. Sasuke resists the urge to indulge in a dramatic eyeroll. You’re such a dork, Izuku, you really are…

“What’d you end up bringing!?” Izuku asks, overflowing with puppy-level eagerness as he grips his backpack straps in anticipation. “The gloves?”

“H*** no, those are nowhere near ready.” Granted, Sasuke is wearing gloves now, so he can see how that might be misleading. They’re nothing special though. He holds one hand up in front of his face, examining it and envisioning the gloves Izuku’s referring to. He’s working on what he calls taser gloves. He got the idea from one of their middle school teachers, Mr. Hatake, and his lightning Quirk. Since Sasuke’s Quirk offers him no offensive advantage, something like that could grant him at least a little attack power.

“These are just insulators for when I use my stunner,” he explains, turning his hand over before dropping it back to his side. “I haven’t been able to get the real gloves working yet. They’re complicated.”

Izuku’s smile softens if only a little, fonder now than eager. “I know you’ll figure it out in no time, though. You’re so smart—like, way smarter than me…”

“You’re still underestimating yourself,” Sasuke sighs. “But yeah, I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

That said, he is only fourteen. He’s been called a genius in the classroom, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to tech or invention. He’s acutely aware of how far he has yet to go… which means those gloves will take some time to develop further. Lots of time… Until then, he has to settle for less practical means of evening the odds.

“O-Oh my gosh, here we are…” Izuku’s voice is suddenly trembling, at the very same moment they come to the crest of the hill.

There, before them, looms the shining gateway to greatness. An archway of steel, emblazoned with the school crest, gives way to a broad walkway paved in neat rows of rust-red brick, lined with concrete columns and smattered with the dozens of Hero hopefuls who dare to trod where legends were made. Beyond a pillared porch and three numbered doors at the top of the front staircase, a colossus of a building pierces the sky with four mighty towers, gleaming glass faces throwing beams of sunlight overhead. Those beams flash over the schoolyard and beyond to the city the school overlooks like a fortress over its estate—a beacon of justice, safety and peace. A castle dedicated to bringing up the knights who will defend the world’s future.

“U.A. High,” both boys murmur in perfect unison, breaths of pure wonder. In Izuku’s case, it’s tainted with a thread of that same old anxiety—unwarranted, in Sasuke’s opinion. In the case of Sasuke himself, the syllables do much to harden his simmering resolve. He clenches his fingers into fists.

There’s only one acceptable outcome today. He didn’t come all this way to lose. Too much is at stake.

Glowing red eyes flash across the forefront of his mind and he squints his own eyes shut to try and ward them away. Not now… not today.

“Stupid Deku.”

Sasuke’s eyes snap open again. His feet stop in their path. “Oh great. The person no one wants to deal with today.”

Izuku, stopping a few steps ahead of Sasuke, does the stupid thing and looks behind him, almost like he wants to validate the person’s approach. “Kacchan?”

Bakugou answers in typical fashion. “Get out of my way now, before I set you on fire.”

Before Izuku can launch himself into a tirade of anxious apologetics, as he very much is about to do judging by the sweat on his forehead and the tremor in his eyes, Sasuke speaks up so his mutual pain-in-the-rear end can hear him—without deigning the explosion boy by looking at him, of course. “Please do. Then you can spend today in jail while the rest of us get into U.A.”

Izuku, for the moment, is lost in nervous tittering. Meanwhile, Bakugou clicks his tongue and, to his credit, doesn’t fly off the handle like usual. Perhaps he is capable of prioritizing when necessary. “Whatever, just stay outta my way, Useless, and pray we don’t end up fighting each other.”

“Yeah, that’d be pretty bad for you, wouldn’t it, dobe?”

To Sasuke’s amusement, that’s enough to make Bakugou halt in his steps. Two tense seconds pass, in which Bakugou’s breathing rasps heavier and heavier through his nose, like he’s trying to hold back a wind storm or something. Usually, there’s a certain nuance to human beings, a natural unpredictability. But this narcissistic idiot is so obvious about everything he’s thinking and feeling, it’s almost painful to watch. Sasuke’s seen it again and again, the huffing and puffing and then the explosion. The Big Bad Wolf with on-hand TNT.

But then, miracle of miracles… Bakugou simply starts walking again. He doesn’t even bother with a retort.

Color Sasuke impressed. If only a millimeter’s worth.

Once the human trash bag has passed beyond earshot, Izuku deflates, head hanging in either relief or shame… it’s incredibly difficult to tell. “Sasuke, you really shouldn’t antagonize him…”

“What, like he antagonizes everyone else?” Sasuke sniffs. “Compared to what he does, this is nothing. He deserves worse, but to give it to him, it would mean stooping to his level. Which I’m not about to do.”

“Hnn…” Izuku wrings his hands. “He’s… been better lately. Ever since… well, I mean. He’s kinda been taking it easy on me.”

“Izuku, he just threatened to set you on fire. That’s no better than actually doing it.”

“I-I know, but—”

“No buts. Stop giving him excuses.”

Something between a groan and a heavy sigh heaves from Izuku’s chest and he sags, shoulders hunching. “Okay, okay…” After that concession, he gives his head a good shake and stands up straight again, and Sasuke knows he’s ready to keep moving.

Izuku’s always been resilient.

The original plan, of course, is to fall in step with Izuku so they cross the school building’s threshold together as planned. Because they’re stupid kids with stupid sentiments and both of them agreed it would be cool. So Sasuke widens his strides, aiming to catch up quick. But all it takes is two seconds and two steps for Izuku to very suddenly be on his way down—having tripped on his own feet. Ready to faceplant the pavement.

Sasuke’s Quirk floods into his senses, drawing every sight, sound, smell into sharp awareness, and he lunges, even though he knows he’s just far enough behind he won’t be able to do anything. Still, might as well try to keep his friend from getting a concussion before they can even make it to the front steps.

Someone walking on Izuku’s opposite side beats him to it. She reaches for Izuku’s arm… and he just stops.

Mid-air.

“Are you okay?” she asks, giggling.

Sasuke stops too, one hand still outstretched to catch his companion, and his Quirk fades away just like that, the moment past. The world returns to normal. Except for the floating Izuku, of course. Usually, Sasuke’s the only person around and willing to keep Izuku from hurting himself.

It feels odd now, having someone else step in.

And with a pretty impressive Quirk, no less. There’s no other explanation as to why Izuku’s feet remain ten centimeters off the ground.

Compared to that ability, she’s not particularly outstanding in any way. A maroon coat, pleated skirt, black tights. Short chestnut hair frames a round face, cheeks pink with cold. When Izuku instinctively begins to flail, as most would in his position, the girl giggles some more and gently guides him back to his feet. Once that’s done, she clasps her hands together placatingly.

“I stopped you with my Quirk,” she says, confirming Sasuke’s suspicions. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask first. But I figured you wouldn’t mind me catching you!”

Sasuke observes Izuku’s face as best he can from his not-so-strategy angle. All he can really see is his ear and a bit of freckled cheek—both of which are beginning to flush.

The girl doesn’t seem to notice though. In fact, she hasn’t noticed Sasuke’s presence at all either—or at least, that Izuku’s not walking alone. There are a lot of other students around them; she probably assumed he’s just another one. Which he honestly doesn’t mind. He lowers his hand and hangs back. As long as Izuku’s fine, he’ll just wait for the interaction to pass.

Except it doesn’t. Because Izuku isn’t saying a word. Sasuke may not be able to see his face from where he’s standing, but the awkward silence speaks volumes.

“Isn’t this all like, way nerve-wracking?” the girl offers by way of conversation starter, smiling but doing little to hide the anxiety in her own body-language, hands going to her backpack straps, weight leaning on her heels.

Izuku’s response consists of a sudden outburst of flailing and stammering.

Oh, that’s smooth.

“Well,” she says, unperturbed, “guess I’ll see you inside. Bye!”

Off she scampers, leaving Izuku to wallow in more awkward silence. Other examinees pass them by, a single beat of silence passing with them before Sasuke steps alongside his friend.

“Well, that was weird,” he murmurs, watching their new acquaintance disappear through the door labeled with a giant golden number 1.

“Holy whoa,” Izuku barely dares to breathe, “I just talked to a girl!”

“But you didn’t actually say anything, hot shot.”

“H-Hot shot??”

With a smirk, Sasuke resumes his stride to the castle front. “Come on. You can’t tell me your face isn’t burning. I’m not blind.”

“W-Wha—no, I—I mean…”

“Geez, don’t hurt yourself. Again. Now hurry up, or we’ll be late.”

“Sasuke, you can’t j-just do that and then walk away!”

“Doing it. You coming or what?”

Izuku’s harried footsteps are all he gets in answer.

[gallivantingheart]

Lyrical Hearts (Part 3)

Synopsis: Post-What Can I Do/I Loved You/When You Love Someone Saga. Young K - Brian - Younghyun - whatever you wanted to call him - was known for being unknown. At least until you caught him and his band practicing late one afternoon. This is the narrative of your soft, tentative beginnings with the gruff bassist.

Pairing: Young K/Brian/Younghyun x fem!Reader

Genre: Romance. General? Acquaintance-to Friends-to Lovers?

Word Count: 1371

Listening Recommendation: Day6 - I Would & VIXX’S N - Cactus

A/N: Looks like this is gonna be wayyy longer than three parts. I DON’T WRITE DRAFTS IN ORDER AND FILLING IN THE BLANKS IS KILLING ME. SEND HELP. OR LUNCH.

The Beginning || Part 2

Practice with their band is exactly what you expect that Thursday. A little messy, still somewhat tentative with one another but brimming with creativity. Your perch is on top of Wonpil's grand piano, overseeing all. From the sweet, effortless grace of the pianist to the way Sungjin swiftly fills the position as leader, despite Jae being just that smidgen older. Dowoon dramatically ends it with a crash of cymbals and a low laugh.

You pass the classroom on the way out, Jae being teasing and rowdy with Wonpil behind you. Soojung and Donghae are still cleaning, coughing with the sudden influx of dust, dirt and pollen flooding the room as of late. You catch her eye briefly, waving small as you go. It's not a sharp look per se, but is doing something more than fulfilling curiosity or merely observing the six of you. You feel very out of place for the first time amongst the band. Even being with five high school boys, all afternoon you'd felt at ease, as if you were meant to be there regardless of your lack of music ability. As Sungjin pushes the school doors open for you all, you ponder as to why Soojung wasn't present, nor mentioned even in passing. She and Jae were two parts of a platonic whole. Until a short while ago it was unfathomable to you that the pair could be separate. And Sungjin had held a candle for her earlier in the year.

Younghyun, it turns out, takes the same bus as you to get to work. Dowoon loiters at the bus shelter with you, even as it gets dark. It's as if he's putting off going home, shrugging away all of Young K's insistence to head off.

Getting on the bus leaves the bassist standing awkwardly next to your seat. It's a little cramped after a few stops, standing room only for office patrons. It's silent between the two of you until:

"Do you know why Sungjin offered to let me watch your practice?"

"No." It's not accusatory, only factual.

"Neither do I really. I mean, I was a bit in awe of your performance the other week and I'd said so. But that didn't mean I could come again. I'm a little useless. Only a spectator - unless you feel you all need an ego boost." You chuckle breathlessly, looking down.

The man next to you shifts closer to you - uncomfortably so - so you adjust yourself too, closer to the aisle. In the process you bump Younghyun's knee with your thigh due to the compact space. Your bag is heavy on your lap as you absently play with your bag charm. Younghyun's bass sits zipped up in its case, flat against his back. The top looks like the sheath to a sword over his shoulder and you suddenly get itchy fingers - you have a penchant for fantasy.

"Not really." Younghyun finally answers, staring at you out the corner of his eye.

His flat tone seems to signal the end of conversation and again, you laugh a little awkwardly before swiftly pressing the button for the next stop even though yours was two away. At that motion he steps out the way - at least the best he can - for you so you can stand. Slinging your bag over your front - it was too tight to swing it onto your back - you look over to him.

"Are you okay with me seeing more of yours at lunch?"

He shrugs and pulls a face, his earrings shaking. That reminded you of another thing about him you’ve learnt about him recently - he wears jewelry. Really well. From rings to necklaces and silver earrings.

You rest your hands on your bag, sight falling to said rings, a black metal. "Okay. Well, uh have a good time at work! Night, Younghyun."

He rolls his eyes, that funny look back in his eye, saying nothing but your name in lazy farewell.

Speaking of funny looks. it has been the same expression form him since you'd interrupted their private stage. Whether he catches your eye as he breezes in late, over the top of his phone screen as he waits for class to start or like today, from your place atop the piano.

It burns you constantly; settles a little uncomfortably in your shoulders. Usually his mouth is shut in a firm but enticing line. Keen eyes and the briefest knit to his soft brows. Thickly layered sight filled with thought you can't quite read yet. Maybe it was just your writers' imagination sparking you - it begged you to discover why.

Your phone disrupts the focus on your writing, jolting you and making your pen skid across the page. Sighing, you arch your back and rub at your face, trying not to glance out at the night that has swallowed the sunset far too quick for your liking. Again, it buzzes and sings. You unlock it, rocking back on your seat.

[Stoneface Dan] @You what are you doing?

[You] not hmw

[You] obviously

[Somimimimi] writing! Qhats it about! When can we seeeee

[You] same old same old. when I’m finished

[Stoneface Dan] It better satisfy my standards. I can check if you want.

[You] maybe later ^^

It’s not the same old. It was elaborate high fantasies that took a good few weeks of world building to even consider putting to paper. Now…now you’re not really sure. Now it’s about a boy behind walls you can’t quite penetrate despite its previous ease, with a siren’s voice that keeps you coming back. But it’s going nowhere - patchy at best, a thin narrative full of holes - and you’re getting frustrated.

You stare at your page, scrawled and barely half written before ripping it out, something more refined and distilled coming to mind.

The window is open again, the incoming spring shiver slipping in. You suspect that the end pane is stuck open, having sat in the same position for as long as you've studied here. It doesn't deter him from his tinkering, the bass still sits over his knees. Nor does it stop you from shamelessly probing him as you have been for the last day or so. You felt after the first few times in silence, you could tread into vocal territory with him and so far it's been successful. Questions and pleasant conversation - you even dare to think you could be friends eventually.

He sits closer to a desk, his rumpled and water (you think) stained notebook opens up to reveal muddled phrases and hasty, fragmented tunes. He has to ask for a pen, a wry smirk stretching his lips as he did so.

He pauses playing across from you, the practice room absorbing the midday sun. The amp lets his last note softly ring into silence and your trance on his dexterous fingers and melodious voice is broken. His voice dies with it and you look up to catch his sight on you. He’s in another one of those band shirts, bracelets looped up his arm. His eyes are piercing but not harsh, an appearance on Young K that’s frankly, odd. Yet again different to what you usually see on his face when associated with you - softer. Neither of you have the strength to break eye contact.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that? I always feel as if I’ve done you wrong.” You blurt out.

Younghyun starts at the sound of your voice, eyes shifting to focus better. “I don’t have a look.”

“Yeah! That one you’re pulling right now.” You uncross your legs and splay them in a very unladylike manner, tucking your skirt down between your thighs. You’re leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees to try and examine him, quirking your brow expectantly. “So, what’s your deal, Younghyun?”

He holds your gaze a little longer with his sharp sight, fingers still held for a chord over the strings. His legs are alarmingly long, foot almost touching across from you. Your blazer has slipped off the back of your chair, the chill refreshing.

“You’re the first person to call me by my real name.”

[kafkasbug]

Ambivalence - uno

Jaehyun sat on his desk, leaning back in the chair with his uniform fixed perfectly around his tall, muscular frame, and heaved a sigh. Today was one of those days.

He was a good student, of course. It just seemed like everything was too boring and typical for him. Even his classmates bored him, despite the rowdy nature of his class. Time passed him in a blur. He was detached.

He slammed his head against the desk, suddenly deciding to make a gravity check on his head. It was painful. Really, really painful. It was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Sleeping sounded good when his head was pounding until he was interrupted.

'You know, one day you will have no neurons because you keep doing that.' He scoffed at the female voice. Of course.

"You know, one day I might just tell Johnny to sit in your place and you would be forced to sit with your crush. What was his name again? T..." He was shut by Hyunjung's hands.

"You're such a good friend. Not." She sat down, wearing her headphones and ignoring the male. Great. There goes his amusement.

Jaehyun tried to nap again, knowing Hyunjung would wake him up (probably with a kick) when class began. But of course, his nap was interrupted when Doyoung appeared right in front of his desk, slamming his hands on it.

Jaehyun looked up tiredly. "What's up, Do?" He spoke, dragging the syllables in a sleepy manner.

'There are new students transferring to our class! I heard they're foreigners!" The seatmates looked up, both incredibly uninterested, and then looked down again.

'And you woke me up from my nap for this? Look, it's probably just some girls who will be head over heels for Taeyong as soon as they step into the classroom. Hell, maybe even a guy who falls for Taeyong. It wouldn't be the first time.' Jaehyun hinted with a knowing smile, proceeding to return to his nap. Or trying to.

'Wake up Jae, the teacher is here.' Hyunjung spoke next to him. They followed the usual routine of every day to show respect to the teacher and sat back down once again. Just go through the motions.

'Today I would like to introduce your new classmates,' the homeroom teacher began, voice muffled against the background of uninterested students. The teacher sighed in frustration. She did not get paid enough for this crap. 'Fine, just, introduce yourself or something and take a sit.'

Jaehyun doesn't remember their names, truthfully. They were foreigners, but really, what's so surprising about that? Considering they were at an international high school, the real surprise was when people were not foreigners.

One of the new students mumbled some kind of introduction, and Jaehyun guessed it had been some kind of joke, considering Doyoung was laughing away two seats to the left. The student, however, seemed mortified, hands anxiously rubbing against each other.

Jaehyun snorted, amused. What a way to introduce herself. Fine, she was amusing. Good enough. But she would soon get as boring as any other girl. Except for Hyunjung. Though he seldom counted her as a girl, more of a "bro" than anything.

'I found this opportunity perfect to change the seating arrangement!' Ms. Jung spoke, causing the students to groan, 'Don't worry, don't worry! It'll be a good change!' She smiled, like doing so would change the fact that the students hated the change, and began listing the pairings.

Meanwhile, the new girl stood awkwardly in front of the classroom, tentatively moving to the side when everyone stood up, it seemed, Jaehyun noted, that she was trying her absolute hardest to be as little a nuisance as possible. The other transfer--a guy--had quickly associated himself with Johnny (but then again, Johnny was friends with ninety percent of the school, so it was no surprise.), but the new student seemed mortified to deal with this whole experience.

While changing places, the new girl accidentally tripped and almost fell on Hyunjung's petite form, but the shorter girl picked her up before she embarrassed herself. Jaehyun stared at Hyunjung's unamused face as she turned around, almost laughing at the younger.

'Thank you.' She looked down, embarrassed to meet the glance of the girl she had bumped into.

'Hey, no problem.' Hyunjung offered her a comforting smile and walked off, fist-bumping Johnny as she began talking about her progress on some video game they had all been playing. ("She's really a dude-bro," Jaehyun thought.)

Jaehyun walked to his new seat, looking towards the window and wondering how long it was until he could get out and lock himself in his room to work on his book. He was definitely thankful, as he was not seated next to the new kids. That gave him an excuse to avoid them even more.

Classes started and ended, until the bell for lunch break rang, signaling the anxious students that they were temporarily free from the penitentiary that was Calculus.

Jaehyun stood up lazily, not as interested in freeing himself as his classmates were. Doyoung made his way towards his best friend, noticing Hyunjung in comfortable conversation with the new girl.

'(y/n) right?' Doyoung looked at her, extending his hand, 'I'm Doyoung, would you like to join us for lunch break?'

Hyunjung scoffed, mumbling something about "inviting her first" and "always stealing my new friends."

(y/n) took Doyoung's hand, nodding as she shook it. Doyoung pulled her up, mentally wondering what hand cream she uses because wow, soft hands much?. "Tae, you coming?"

Taeyong shook his head, preparing for a nap. The boys and Hyunjung shrugged.

'Guess you're stuck with us.'

~

The four of them sat down, trays in hand, in one of the outside tables. Jaehyun played with his food, bored once again, while he stared forward, looking at the female two years his senior, who attended the joint University of the school.

Sunhee. His first love. Unreachable. They were all synonyms in his mind.

Childhood friends, soulmates, then lovers. That's how the story goes, right? Best friends discover they're soulmates, fall in love and are happy together. Then why did Sunhee never look at him as more than a little brother?

Frustration was his home, and no matter how much he tried to write love songs, they all came out stingy with pain. He was stuck in ballads of unrequited love. So he left the guitar alone and focused on something that allowed him to ignore those feelings. His book.

He stabbed the chopsticks on the rice, aggressively mixing it. It was one of those "international food" days in the academy, which basically meant the students got to tinker around with utensils they didn't use on a regular basis. Doyoung, Hyunjung and (y/n), who had clicked immediately, stopped their animated conversation to stare at him.

'Uh... The rice was too hard.' He explained in a low voice, shoving a spoonful of it in his mouth, almost choking. He coughed, holding his hand up, and drank a big swig of his water. His face was red with embarrassment when he noticed Sunhee's worried stare, along with his classmates' silent amusement.

'It's so good. I might cry.' He wiped forced tears from his eyes, swallowing the mass of... Whatever he was eating at that point.

'Alright...' Doyoung glanced at Jaehyung, muttering something about befriending only weirdos and the fatal fall of his status. 'So (y/n), you like the school so far?'

'Uh, well, from what I've seen I guess it's cool, yeah... I didn't get much of a chance to explore either way.' The girl answered, still confused about Jaehyun's strange behavior. The taller boy took this as an opportunity to run away from the embarrassment and forced (y/n) to stand, almost knocking off Hyunjung's plate from the table.

'I can tour you!' He spoke abruptly, 'Let's not waste time, okay?' Jaehyun dragged her away towards the library, as (y/n) desperately tried to free herself from his grip. When they were far enough from the tables, he sighed, letting go of (y/n)'s wrist. The girl glared at him, rubbing her reddening wrist.

'Look, just this one time okay I'm sorry, but hey look this place is kinda cool, you can tell Hyunjung to set you up with someone and tour you-' Jaehyun was interrupted by (y/n)'s sharp voice.

'Stop fussing. I can tour myself, just next time try not to get me involved in your personal problems? Good?' (y/n) said, annoyed, as she continued to rub her wrist. Yeah, she could make her way to the classroom alone. Or tried. She could try. It couldn't be that far, right?

Doyoung and Hyunjung sat at the table, staring at Jaehyun's unfinished plate.

"More for us, I guess?"

The bell rang and the classroom filled up with students. None of them were Jaehyung or (y/n), and Hyunjung smirked.

"Damn, they got fast moves don't they?" Someone laughed beside her, and she sighed internally, remembering who her seatmate was. Jaehyun had jinxed her, but he had jinxed himself too. Payback was always her favorite thing... When it happened to someone else.

~

Somewhere around the school gardens, Jaehyun tried to find (y/n), guilt eating away at his stomach. Who knew the school was so big? Plus, why would they need so many gardens if the students spent most of their time inside the classrooms?

He spotted the recently transferred girl, walking towards her and noticing she was wiping her hands on her skirt, a huge smile on her face.

"I saw a puppy."

Jaehyun shook his head.

All he could see was the detention they would get for skipping class.

[btsgirlfriends]

tangled

cover credit to: bangtanmaru

summary: A new vigilante is taking the limelight in town, and he goes by the name of Spiderman. Jeon Jungkook lives a double life where in school, he’s a science geek who’s best friends with the beautiful, popular star student Y/N, and out of school, he’s the next rising superhero. One night, he falls under the radar of a notorious villain and realizes that he can’t live his double life forever. 

genre: angst/action; spiderman!au

word count: 1.9k

author’s note: Okay, so this was inspired by a request to write a drabble of Jungkook as spiderman, but I got VERY carried away and well, here we are. I’m still not sure whether or not I want this to be a series or not. :/

55 degree angular trajectory. I squinted. Target within range. Focus and...fire.

“JUNGKOOK!”

I hurriedly flipped open my chemistry notebook as Y/N marched her way to my desk, the heels of her shoes clicking against the classroom floor. Resting my head on my hand, I tapped my pen against the paper casually. 

“I know it was you who threw this in my hair.”

She held up a section of her hair with one of my homemade web balls in it. 

“And what is this?”

“Spit ball.”

“Jungkook, you’re disgusting.” 

I shrugged and gave a small smile before gently tugging it out of her hair for her. I was old enough to know flirting like this was extremely immature, but I loved to see her reactions. She pouted as I combed her hair out with my fingers. Why did she have to look so pretty even when she was mad at me?  

“There, it’s gone. Stop complaining.”

“On a completely different note, did you hear about what Spiderman did last night?”

“No I didn’t.”

“Of course you don’t know, you never know about the important news.” 

“I’m sorry I’m not a huge Spiderman fanatic, like you.”

“I am not a Spiderman fanatic, I’m just...slightly interested in him. Anyways, I need to run to journalism next, so I’ll catch you around.”

I gave her a small wave and watched as she rushed out of the classroom, her hair swaying gracefully against her back. There was something serene about the air around her. I don’t think I would ever have the heart to tell her that she was one of the most beautiful girls I know. And that the Spiderman she was always so fascinated about was me.

I dropped my backpack on the floor of my room and propped my legs up on my desk before clicking the collapsible sphere next to my computer. 

“Talk to me.”

“Is that any way to talk to your superior?”

“Sorry, I wanted to try it at least once.”

I picked up my web shooter from under my bed and fiddled with it as Tony spoke. 

“I need you to stay indoors tonight. The Tinker is on the loose and I’ve told you several times how dangerous getting involved with him is, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I have a midterm to study for tomorrow anyway.”

“Good. That’s all I have to say. Just for tonight, let me handle it.”

“Aren’t you in Dubai?”

“My suits can handle this. Pepper will deal with it if it gets too out of hand.” 

“Get me a souvenir from Dubai, and not one of those ugly shirts again, please.”

“You’re such a brat.”

“But you love me.”

“Bye.” 

I collapsed the sphere again and groaned. As much as I knew he meant it for my own good, I felt like I was on house arrest. Contrary to what I told him about my midterm, I threw my books on the floor and curled under the sheets to take a nap. 

A faint ringing sounded at the back of my head and I was pulled out of my sleep. I groaned loudly as I held my temples to try to get it to stop, but the sound just grew louder. The noise was piercing my inner eardrums and I cried out in an attempt to relieve the increasing pain in my head. 

“Jungkook. Jungkook, what’s wrong? Jungkook.”

The ringing came to an abrupt stop and I glanced up with watery eyes at my aunt. She quietly cupped my cheeks and held my head to her chest. Turning my head, I peered at my desk clock. 

It was 4 am. 

Looking back up at the worried expression plastered on her face, I took a deep breath and tried to muster up a lie.

“I’m okay. I just had a bad dream.” 

“Are you sure? Do you need some water or anything?”

“No, I’m okay.”

She nodded and gave me a weak smile before kissing my head and heading back to her room. 

I watched her leave my room with an aching feeling in my heart. I’ve never had an episode like this for a while. And every time I did, something good never came from it. I closed the door behind her and immediately activated the soundproof shield that encompassed my room. Frantically, I opened the sphere and dialed for Tony.

“Tony, what’s going on?”

“Kid, I can’t talk to you right now. And it’s four am where you are, shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I woke up to the ringing in the back of my head. Something is going on. My ears never ring like that. The last time it had, my uncle...”

My voice trailed off, and there was an awkward pause between the both of us before Tony spoke again.

“I told you, you are not going out today. Not tonight, specifically. This is something for me to handle, okay? This ringing thing or your sixth sense or whatever you like to call it is nothing to worry about.” 

“What’s going on?”

“Jeon, stay out of it.”

Before I could ask again, he cut off the connection and I was left in silence. Something major was going on, but he wasn’t letting me know. I had every right to know. What if someone I loved died again? I turned towards my door and turned off the soundproof before opening it and thankfully hearing the soft snores of my aunt. 

I took a deep breath, but it couldn’t help the suffocating feeling that was building up in my chest. I needed to go out for a breath of fresh air. A nighttime walk wouldn’t kill anyone, and I’ll be back before Tony could say anything.

The city wasn’t quiet at all, despite it being 4 am. Cars were rushing on the freeways and there were a handful of people who were walking the streets. I walked to the nearest convenience store and bought a pack of gum before sitting on the bench outside the store to take in the cold morning air.

Time seemed to be passing by excruciatingly slowly. Cars drove past and over time I found myself counting how many blue or red ones had passed my line of sight. But in the midst of counting cars, I heard a faint scream. Help, someone please help. I turned my head towards the direction of the noise, but I couldn’t see anything. Maybe I’m going crazy. Maybe I’m just hearing things. 

H-Help. The voice was fainter this time and for a minute, it even sounded familiar. I closed my eyes and tried to train my ears towards the direction of the sound. Scream, darling, scream as loud as you can and no one will hear you. Miss Y/N, where is your Prince Charming now? 

Blood rushed throughout my body, and panic settled in my veins. What is going on? Who is hurting her? I tried to close my eyes again and listen, but I couldn’t hear anything except my racing heartbeat. There was only one thing that I could confirm. Y/N was in trouble. 

I wasn’t thinking. My body propelled itself towards the end of the street without my conscious command. The wind was rushing past my ears in a loud whistle, but I couldn’t care less. I needed to get to her. I can’t lose her. 

What a shame such a pretty girl like you has to die tonight.

Glancing up, I saw an arm dangling Y/N over the roof of the apartment building. 

Please, sp-pare me.

The adrenaline in my veins masked the pain I would’ve felt from prying open the locked apartment door. I hurled myself up the steps and frantically raced up the flights of stairs, my entire body slamming itself against the door when I reached the stop and busting the door outward onto the platform of the roof. 

“Ah, better late than never.”

“Y/N!”

The man was coated in several layers of heavy leather and metals, revealing him to be the one and only Tinker. 

“She was waiting for you.”

He threw Y/N across the roof of the building as if she were a rag doll and began marching towards me. I stared at Y/N’s tiny body laying next to the air vent where he had thrown her. Turning my attention back on the Tinker, I realized the night air was eerily quiet. He must’ve set up some type of soundproof shield across the area. My eyes quickly scanned the roof for any weapons, but before I could spot anything, he lunged at me. I dodged his arm by sliding under his legs and rolling over towards Y/N. 

Her frail body was curled up in a ball on the floor and her dark hair was splayed across the ground. She slowly turned her head and coughed, propping herself on her hands and looking over at me, her eyes still a bit sluggish. 

“Are you alright?”

She widened her eyes.

“JUNGKOOK!”

Quickly, I held her in my arms before rolling over to the other side of the roof. She screamed as the Tinker’s hits made the roof vibrate. I can’t just continue letting him strike, I had to fight back. Still, pinning down Y/N’s body, I turned my head in the direction she was staring at and saw a wrench. Our eyes made contact again, her cheeks slowly turning pink.

“Why don’t you come fight me like a man?”

God, I would’ve loved this situation if he weren’t here. 

The Tinker twirled a sharp gadget in his hands and directed it towards me. I could hear the sharp spinning of the blades, a sound similar to that of a woodcutter. That would hurt like hell if it touched me. Quickly standing up, I nudged Y/N with my leg and she thankfully took the cue to hide. Running up to him, I brought my foot against his head, earning a hard impact against my toes. 

“Ow.”

The Tinker was momentarily stunned, wobbling off-balance before letting out a deafening chuckle. He extended his claw-like arm to grab me and I pulled my body back into a flip, allowing the metal to gently scrape the side of my stomach. As he retracted his arm, I slowly backed up, and before he could make another move, I grabbed the wrench.

“Too slow.”

His arm extended again and reached for my foot and before I had a chance to move out of the way, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me upside down. The wrench fell out of my hand as he swung me across in the air, laughing as I struggled to break his grip. I just needed to get that wrench. The Tinker pulled me back and wrapped a claw around my neck before slamming my body into a cement wall. 

I grabbed his metallic arm against my neck and thumped against it with my fist to no avail. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and I was gasping as his grip tightened, my chest crushed against his force. It was hard to me to muster even a breath and I felt my throat closing in.

“Any last words, Jeon Jungkook? Or should I say, Spiderman.” 

[emeraldembers]

Fic: All The Names You Never Had (Baze Malbus/Chirrut Imwe, G)

Title: All The Names You Never Had

Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

Pairing: Baze Malbus/Chirrut Imwe

Summary: Baze Malbus was never very good at remembering names. Even when he liked the person that name belonged to. Even when he liked them a lot.

And someone like Chirrut deserves a lot of nicknames.

Author’s Notes: Written for the prompt “Little snapshots of them meeting in different places at different times, but they are never properly introduced to each other. And they just have nicknames in heads [...] kind of thing.” for sapoeysap in the 2017 spiritassassin fic exchange.

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10594359

* * *

Baze Malbus had never been good with names.

Not because he disliked using them, or because he disliked the people whose names slipped his mind, but simply because he rarely remembered them.

Baze simply remembered people by the context in which he knew them better than by their names. Names lacked description, and he had always known his family by their titles rather than their names - aunt, uncle, mother, father.

It was both fitting and a little frightening that if he had remembered Chirrut's name from the start, he might never have taken the steps past befriending him into loving him and being loved in return.

And as much as Chirrut sometimes teased him for needing reminders, Baze knew Chirrut was flattered by the method Baze most often used for remembering his name.

That method was responsible for their first kiss, after all.

When Chirrut first showed up on the temple's grounds, Baze took little interest. In those years, initiates passed through the temple in their dozens, returning to their families as soon as they were old enough to run a farm, marry a partner, or take the place of siblings whose death or emigration had left a hole to be filled.

Serving the temple was an honour, but training as a Guardian took both determination and patience; Jedhans were well known for the former trait, but rarely for the latter.

Long stays were rare, and Baze struggled enough to keep the names of his friends straight without adding more to the list. It didn't help that three of them were Rooks. Context served his memory better than names.

Chirrut Îmwe was just another kid amongst many other new kids, regardless of only being a year younger than Baze, and therefore New Kid would have to suffice for a name until Baze knew something better to distinguish him by.

Much of Baze's time was spent in the temple's library, copying out texts, caring for fragile scrolls, and repairing damaged datapads. The slow, quiet work suited his nature, and he had loved tinkering with electronics ever since he was a child.

It wasn't unusual to have initiates and masters alike turn up in the library with old or damaged datapads, politely requesting that Baze repair them without paying too much attention to their contents. More often than not, Baze accepted the requests; personal items were discouraged within the temple, but not subject to any official ban, and sometimes a few minutes' work would leave another person happy for days on end.

His first conversation with Chirrut outside of a classroom was over one such request, though at the time Baze had still thought of him as New Kid.

New Kid had stopped in front of him in the library, handing over a datapad with a sheepish expression, its surface cracked.

"I can't see how bad this is, but Master Lamm said if anyone could fix my mistake, it would be you."

Baze assessed the damage, nodding to himself; the cracks were widespread but shallow, and Jedha's cold, dry autumn made it unlikely that moisture or heat would have reached the exposed innards. "Your mistake, hm?"

"I threw it," New Kid said, shrugging. "My aim was fine, my friend's catch wasn't."

Baze looked up at New Kid, laughed despite himself, and said, "I'll see what I can do," renaming him Datapad Tossing Fool.

It was a name Datapad Tossing Fool happened to share with three other initiates, and one master.

Excepting the day Baze returned Datapad Tossing Fool's newly fixed datapad to him, they scarcely encountered each other save for brief exchanges in courtyards or when walking the same direction in corridors.

It took until spring and a shared shift in the temple garden for them to spend any real time together, the quiet morning made remarkable when Datapad Tossing Fool grabbed Baze's wrist to prevent him from using his shovel.

"Wait!"

Baze shook his hand free but waited as commanded, watched as Datapad Tossing Fool knelt to dig through the soil with his fingers.

Of all the possible outcomes from such digging, Baze could honestly say he had not expected Datapad Tossing Fool to pull a frightened but very much intact and alive mammal from the soil with his bare hands.

"I knew I'd heard her. I always had a soft spot for these," Datapad Tossing Fool said before walking away, keeping the fiercely wriggling creature safe in his grip until he could set it free in a less active corner of the garden.

Datapad Tossing Fool became Gentle Fool in that instant.

It was also the first time Baze really noticed that Gentle Fool was beautiful.

Temple life didn't permit a lot of idle socialising, and Baze had never been much of a gossip anyway, but it was impossible to watch a blind person dig a live, fist-sized mammal out of bare earth and not want to know more about them.

Trying to learn more about Gentle Fool quickly taught Baze that he spent nearly as much time cleaning dishes or sweeping the courtyard as Baze spent in the library, largely as punishment for non-violent misbehaviour.

Baze couldn't say he was surprised at that, when his first encounter with Gentle Fool came from his throwing a datapad at someone too slow to catch it.

More of a surprise was how Gentle Fool had a habit of singing loudly and terribly to himself while carrying out his punishment duties, regardless of the time of day he had been set those tasks, and occasionally earning himself further punishments as a result.

It wasn't difficult to get assigned another shift working alongside Gentle Fool, spring's dust storms painting the courtyards red and demanding someone take care of the mess with a broom.

Baze had to marvel at just how terrible, albeit enthusiastic, that singing was when heard in person.

Someone other than Baze might have found that off-putting. Baze found it delightful.

At the end of their shift, covered head to toe in red dust he looked forward to showering off in a sonic, Baze received a sudden, sharp smack in the chest from Gentle Fool's broom handle, and looked up to a grin telling him it was no accident.

"No," Baze said, and Gentle Fool prodded him in the abdomen with the handle.

"The great Baze Malbus, turning down a challenge? What is this galaxy coming to?"

Baze blocked a third jab with his own broom handle before taking a step back, shifting his grip on the handle to something more appropriate for sparring. "I try not to hurt striplings, but for a fool like you, I could make an exception."

Gentle Fool's grin turned gleefully malicious, and the battle began in earnest.

Troublemaker seemed a fitting name, after that. Especially when Baze was forced to hand over the irreparable remains of their brooms, and had additional kitchen duties assigned to him as punishment.

"We must stop meeting like this," Troublemaker said when he turned up to take over from Baze's shift washing dishes, "People will talk."

Baze groaned at the cliché before tossing the sodden dishcloth at Troublemaker. "Is there a single cliché you don't love?"

"A few. I could list them, if you like."

Baze just about managed not to grin, but had to let out a snort of amusement through his nose.

Tempting as it was to leave the conversation at that, Baze also knew it was time to swallow his pride. "I have to ask - what is your name?"

Troublemaker cocked his head, expression curious, and more confused than offended. "Chirrut. How long have we lived under the same roof?"

"Not long enough," Baze said, before flushing red and selfishly hoping Chirrut could not sense his embarrassment at what the words implied.

Even if the sentiment was true.

"Pleased to meet you, Chirrut."

"And you, Baze," Chirrut replied before busying himself with the dishes.

Whatever game they had been playing together ended several weeks later during another shift working in the garden, courtesy of Baze rolling up his sleeves and forgetting the reason why he had left them hanging around his wrists in the first place.

As much as he would have liked to imprint Chirrut's name on his memory, Baze knew he would need far more practice before he could trust himself to remember.

And it was easier to practice when he had Chirrut's name scrawled on his inner wrist.

One of the other initiates had looked over, loudly asked what Baze had written there, and when Baze immediately pulled his sleeves back down, Chirrut had grown curious.

Another playfight would have meant dishes duty for a fortnight, so Baze told Chirrut the truth and held out his wrist, unsure if Chirrut could feel the difference between inked skin and unmarked skin.

"I can never remember names," Baze said, apologetic, and wishing Chirrut would laugh or frown or at least react instead of just rubbing his thumb across Baze's wrist, his face unreadable.

Chirrut finally let go of Baze's wrist to grip the front of Baze's robes instead. "I'm going to kiss you. Now. If you let me."

Baze let him.

Baze let him several times, in fact.

Several months down the line, Chirrut joined the ranks of the rare few Baze could recall the names of with ease. Several years down the line, Chirrut became the only person whose name was imprinted on Baze's body permanently, first in the form of ink on Baze's wrist, then in the form of raised dots around that ink to make it something they could both appreciate.

Baze never quite got the hang of names, though.

 I'll get the pilot.

 He has the face of a friend.

 Good luck, little sister.