#and i try to cull any tangents on kinesthetics or breath awareness when i do these kinds of scenes

[scary-senpai]

Collateral Damage

Still working on my pre-canon, Garou-and-Bang-at-the-dojo story. Made a little bit of progress? But I’ve been saying that since I started five months ago? Anyway. I don’t know. It literally feels like I’m shaking my head very hard, trying to get this out of my brain.

Disclaimer & Overly-Cautious Content Warning: T For Trashmouth. You can see I borrowed a little bit from the “Charanko, Learning” audio drama. Garou has some Mystery Bruises (he’s had a rough night, which has turned into a rough day with no break for sleep.) There’s probably some abuse of semicolons but this is my rough draft and that’s what final-round edits are for.

“You — “

Charanko feels hands clamp around his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin as Garou pulls him aside.

“For sparring?” Charanko raises his arms, turning his palms up in a gesture of surrender. “N-no, I’m just a white belt — “

Garou gazes back at him, hollow-eyed, pale — and a little green? The florescent lights brighten abruptly, draining the last traces of color from Garou’s face.

“When did you get back last night?”

Charanko asks. Garou tries to shush him, but it’s already too late — Bang appears, suddenly and unannounced. Garou’s shoulders sag forward and Bang towers over him, eyes smiling faintly.

Garou’s mouth winds tightly into a frown, as if he knows what’s coming.

“No need to choose partners today,” Bang says. “But I will have to borrow this one, unfortunately.”

The students diligently take their places, kneeling at the edges of the mat. Bang hasn’t observed any lessons recently, let alone led them. Most of the classes are led by senior students, who are in turn supervised by Garou. Garou also manages the bulk of the daily operations at the dojo. This is no easy task, but Bang trusts him implicitly.

Bang cocks a brow as he eyes Garou up and down. The boy’s gi is wrapped tightly around him, tied in tense knots, and he wears a white shirt beneath his gi.

“Interesting choice of attire,” Bang murmurs.

Garou manages to keep his mouth clamped shut long enough for Bang to move on.

“I’ll admit, my Association work has kept me from classes lately,” Bang says, hardly contrite. “But I thought it was high time for me to pay a visit, see how you all were getting along.”

The students settle in and wait eagerly for the demonstration to begin. These lessons, the ones that Bang and Garou co-teach, are undoubtedly the most memorable. The content changes, but the structure remains the same: they will spar briefly together, and then re-create the fight in slow motion. Bang will pause to break down each move, and they’ll re-enact the fight again — slow first, and then fast — as many times as they need to, until everyone gets it. It’s practically a song and dance routine between the two of them: Garou, clowning around as Bang feigns exasperation. And then, when Bang seems just about done, Garou surprises everyone by perfectly recapping the lesson. Yeah, yeah. There’s no such thing as true stability or whatever. You’ve just gotta make peace with falling.

So when the class sees Garou visibly bristling as Bang circles around him, pressing his hands and arms flat against the side of his body, they assume this is also part of the game.

“What’s the lesson, Gramps?”

“Haven’t decided,” Bang murmurs. “Let’s see where you’re at today, shall we?”

And then the old man does… something. A strike, maybe? But Garou hasn’t taken position yet, he’s just standing there... Whatever happens passes too quickly for Charanko to see. But now Garou has his arm raised up as if to retaliate, and Bang’s holding tight to his wrist. Garou’s sleeve slips down below his elbow, revealing blue and purple blotches mottled across his pale skin.

Did Bang do that, just now? Charanko wonders. No, those bruises look a few hours old, at least…Bang raises a brow as Garou turns his face away. He rubs at his wrist, frowning.

“The hell was that for, old man,” Garou mumbles.

“Alright, alright. Enough games.” Bang waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s begin.”

Garou does as he’s told, taking a moment to surreptitiously tug at his clothing and sleeves before taking his stance.

Bang stands at ease, and doesn’t move. He hums a little to himself and casually examines his nails as Garou holds his position, muscles shaking and strained.

Garou sighs loudly, but Bang continues to behave as if Garou isn’t there at all, waiting.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

Garou begins to break position, dropping his arms and straightening his legs.

“Garou,” Bang tuts.

“What.”

“Pay attention.”

“I am — “

And suddenly Garou is crashing forward again as Bang stands behind him.“No, you’re not.”

“Fuck—”

Garou stumbles forward and hits the floor hard, landing awkwardly on his elbows. Garou, the same person who uses controlled falls to descend from high shelves, instead of a ladder like everyone else on the planet…

Bang stands above him, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Where were you looking, hm?”

Garou only plays the fool in the strictest sense; his technique is flawless, his knowledge prodigious, and his “missteps” are perfectly timed. It’s much easier to teach, after all, when there’s something obvious to correct.

But this doesn’t look like part of the lesson. This just looks like it hurt. ___