Chapter Text
The truth is, Saiki shouldn’t be trying to become acquainted with Satou Hiroshi at all. In fact, he should be maintaining as far a distance as possible— both physically and emotionally speaking.
Saiki has long accepted that he will never conform to normality, nor will normality conform to him. The most extreme of eccentrists seem to flock to him whether he likes it or not; perhaps their abnormal souls sensing a kindred spirit in a being who is the furthest thing from Average. And that’s fine.
The problem is that Satou is the polar opposite of him. The Genius of the Ordinary attracts cliche background characters and escapes the limelight each and every moment of his life like it’s nothing. If Saiki were to insert himself into Satou’s circle, as proven by past experience… that wonderful, precious gift would be utterly soiled. Devastating.
But these days, Saiki’s heart speaks louder than his brain— or more accurately, his heart is beating his brain into submission and only grows more violent each time Satou gifts him one of those trademark polite smiles. It vaguely reminds him of when Toritsuka says he only ‘thinks with his dick’, and isn’t that supremely humiliating. Oh, how far he has fallen.
And yet.
Saiki may have god-like abilities, but he isn't a god. He is a selfish bastard who indulges in sweets and coffee jelly any time he pleases, sways the very foundations of the universe in his favour, and never hesitates to blackmail or threaten those who test his patience. From the beginning, Saiki should have known he would have no self-control when it came to a person of interest.
Which is why, damn it all, he abuses his power once more.
“Oh, it looks like we’ve got Saiki and Satou remaining. I guess you two can just pair up with each other. Alright class, good luck with your projects.”
It’s hard not to feel smug at finally besting Teruhashi’s celestial-tier luck. The Heavens are nothing in the face of Saiki’s conviction— and slight of hand when it comes to drawing lots. Hiding his smile behind his book, he pointedly ignores the mental slew of snickering from two individuals in the background who sound suspiciously like Aiura and Toritsuka.
The plan that follows is incredibly straight-forward:
Saiki will invite Satou to work with him at a nice nearby cafe that serves excellent peach tarts. He’ll bring up his love for manga which will prompt a discussion about Satou’s favourite magazine Shounen Jump. And then, Saiki will drop in somewhere that he’s a big fan of Satou’s favourite band, hence swaying Satou towards inviting him to go watch the upcoming concert together. And if Satou doesn’t ask, Saiki will.
Is he getting ahead of himself? Admittedly, yes. But the plan should work as long as nothing gets in his way.
Asking Satou out is the easiest part; the boy flashes him a grateful smile for initiating the meetup, and Saiki is even treated to a smooth back and forth about what materials they should bring— a delightfully mundane conversation that does not even remotely involve secret dark organisations or gang wars.
The bell rings, they grab their bags, and Saiki shows Satou the way to the perfect location he just so happened to come across that serves the best peach tarts.
Oh, that’s your favourite dessert, Satou? Haha, no I’m not a psychic or anything, Satou. Tell me more about your new coffee machine, Satou.
It’s nothing Saiki can’t just read from Satou’s mind, obviously. But he’s been getting better at selective telepathy, and Kusuke’s upgraded inhibitors certainly help— no more flimsy hair clips, good grief. Rather, he now merely sports a pair of small but powerful green studs (not school sanctioned, but nothing he can’t simply tweak the rules to keep).
From his brief powerless stint last semester, he’s learned that perhaps there is something to be said about organically getting to know a person, rather than gleaning their entire backstory from dull inner monologues. And there’s no one Saiki would rather try that with more than Satou Hiroshi, which is why he blocks out his thoughts as best as he can while they chat.
Then right away, in extremely typical fashion, things go awry.
A mere street away from where he and Satou are strolling, a terrible vision abruptly shakes his composure— the cafe has befallen a great and sudden tragedy: Teruhashi Makoto, creepo extraordinaire, has booked out the place to do a surprise meet and greet. And perhaps the only reason why he’d be doing this at a random cafe near PK High would be to increase the chances of running into his sister.
See, this is the shit that happens when Saiki doesn’t use his powers.
Actually, I’d like to file a police report right now just for fun, Satou. Would you care to join? he grumbles internally.
He turns to suggest an alternative location, but then Satou is already stepping past the wall and entering the cafe’s line of sight, which is the absolute worst case scenario. For the average high-schooler, there is nothing more exciting than running into a hot celebrity you see a lot on TV and getting an autograph just for the sake of it.
Which is something the Ordinary Genius would absolutely fucking do.
Saiki’s hand is shooting out before he even knows it, firmly wrapping itself around Satou’s wrist to stop the boy in his tracks.
“Huh?” Satou makes a sharp noise of surprise, looking back with a wide-eyed stare. “What is it, Saiki?”
Approximately 170mm in circumference. Not too slender, not too bony. Perfectly fits around my fingers—
Stop that.
Saiki yanks his hand back like he’s been scalded.
“Coffee jelly,” he blurts out the second best thing that comes to mind. “Sorry, but I’m suddenly craving coffee jelly a lot right now. Would it be okay to go get that instead?”
Satou blinks, and blinks some more. And then by some miracle, graces Saiki with a bright grin.
“Oh! Yeah, of course we can,” he nods. “I’ve been blabbing on and on about the stuff I’ve been making these days. It’s my fault you’re craving caffeine now, haha!”
So Saiki really was listening to me…
Ah. The new coffee machine.
Saiki returns a crooked smile.
That’s definitely not the reason why he’s stepping back, slowly coaxing Satou towards Cafe Mami at the other end of the street that has a distinct lack of unpleasant sis-cons. But he has been paying attention to Satou’s every word— from his failed attempts at latte art, to his intrigue over the invention of coffee capsules. Even the most prosaic details of suburban life never fail to wash a relaxing wave across Saiki’s crowded mind, and it’s a sin that Satou ever worries about being boring.
“Thank you. And it’s no problem,” Saiki’s smile grows a touch gentler as he holds the door open for Satou.
Mera greets them enthusiastically and doesn’t have to be told twice before she skips out of the kitchen with two orders of coffee jelly. It’s divine, obviously, and Satou mentally giggles at the expression of pure joy that spreads across Saiki’s face.
It’s a very lovely sound that he yearns to hear out loud.
“Now, remind me again,” Saiki picks right back up, not bothering to take out his books or pens or notes. “Your latte art ended up looking like a what?”
“Oh my god, I have to show you the pictures—”
✷｡𖦹°‧✷
As expected, Saiki and Satou don’t get much done.
Their discussions had veered so off the predicted path that he’d even forgotten about the script he had formulated. But while Saiki walks out of the cafe lacking an essay, a concert invite, and his usual three additional orders of coffee jelly, it’s Satou’s generous buffet of smiles and laughter and even at some point, a chortle, that have Saiki feeling very full regardless.
He waves Satou a reluctant goodbye at the train station, left with the enthusiastic promise of being sent picture updates of the boy’s budding latte art hobby. Saiki has never been more glad to have gotten a phone during his ‘normal’ era, convinced he’d need one to acquire information that was not straight out of people’s thoughts... not that he really needs one anymore, outside of this incredible honor.
And certainly not when natural instinct is able to nag at the back of his mind, urging him to deal with certain troublemakers he’d sensed coming from a mile away.The moment Satou steps out of sight, Saiki vanishes, reappearing behind two suspicious individuals hidden in the nearby alleyway who are snickering and whispering like idiots.
Boo, bitches.
Aiura and Toritsuka’s terrified screams are ear-piercing, which is frankly, ridiculous— out of everyone, it's these two who should be used to this by now. Saiki slaps a hand over their mouths and immediately teleports the pair into the privacy of his bedroom. He carelessly dumps the pair onto the carpet and watches as they swiftly drop to their knees, already prepared for the usual reprimand. If not for their sheepish yet irritatingly unrepentant expressions, their obedience might've even been the slightest bit pleasing.
Explain yourselves, Saiki commands as he lounges upon his desk chair like a throne. I’m in a very good mood right now, so don’t ruin it.
“Like you can’t just read our minds,” Toritsuka grumbles, and then immediately receives a sharp elbow to the side from Aiura who is much smarter and hence supplies the information readily.
“Well, our gracious and merciful leader of the PK psychic trio—”
Quit it. That name is never going to stick.
“—we do actually have a good reason for uh, following you. You see, I've recently acquired some very interesting details on your fortune. And I think you’ll really wanna hear about this one.”
Aiura smirks, pulling out a pack of tarot cards from her pocket and laying them on the ground. Saiki raises a brow and watches her pick out eight in particular, assembling them in two rows. Meanwhile, Toritsuka sprawls lazily like the heathen he is, all pretense of apology lost.
Since when do you do tarot readings? Your crystal ball already performs the same function and more.
“I mean, yeah, duh. But tarot’s way more trendy now, and I’ve decided to expand my clientele into the younger demographic who pay less but come back more frequently. But that’s beside the point,” Aiura shrugs, before her lips curl back into a wicked smile. “The point is that I decided to take a peek into your fate on a whim like, yesterday, because this loser here insisted. And oh boy, let’s just say that it’s real juicy.”
“Hey, you’re acting like you weren’t dying to know either!” the said loser protests.
“I never said I wasn’t! I was just trying to respect his privacy, y’know. And then you just had to—”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I enable you? The chick who makes money off gullible old creeps?”
“Wow, as if you haven’t done the exact same damn thing to pick up babes!”
The bickering fades into background noise with practised ease as Saiki peers down at the display of cards before him. They don’t really mean anything to him, especially when they’re obnoxiously over-decorated with rhinestones, and he isn't exactly keen on trusting a random combination of pictures to hold the secrets to his life.
But then again… Aiura’s powers have proven to be scarily accurate at times.
Okay. Shut the fuck up, he bellows into their minds, making Aiura and Toritsuka wince and groan. Breach of privacy aside, we’re already here, so you may as well share with the class. What do these cards mean?
“Right, right,” Aiura perks right back up. “So first of all, the upside down Hierophant represents—”
The condensed overview, please.
“Oh my god, fine.”
Aiura rolls her eyes and stands up, leveling a well-manicured nail in Saiki’s face. Toritsuka quickly scrambles to her side, matching smirks on their faces that never spell anything but trouble.
“You, Saiki Kusuo,” Aiura announces emphatically. “All-powerful, cynically aloof, and the most prideful person I’ve ever met… are going to fall head over heels in love with someone in the very near future. And I mean totally bonkers, completely obsessed, absolutely one hundred percent simping for a special person. Congratulations!"
……
…?
Oh, is all Saiki can provide in reply. Is that all?
The smugness slips right off their faces, leaving Aiura and Toritsuka unflatteringly blank-faced. And then at once, they sputter and flail in tandem, seemingly flabbergasted beyond belief.
“What— what the fuck do you mean is that all ? Don’t you give a shit?” Toritsuka squawks.
“Is this not a huge deal? Is the fact that it’s going to happen to you— you of all people— completely world-shattering? Like, hello?” Aiura screeches.
Honestly, not really. Saiki shrugs and ignores the jab, because yes, he’s self-aware enough to know they’ve got a point. Compared to premonitions about a volcanic eruption that will end humanity, this is relatively tame. And while I have no interest in romance at the moment, I’m still, unfortunately, a person with regular emotions. It’s only natural that my desires may change with time. Falling deeply in love in the near future doesn’t particularly shock or distress me.
That seems to deflate Aiura and Toritsuka rather quickly. They exchange glances and blink at him foolishly.
“…I guess that’s fair enough.”
Saiki leans back in his seat with an eye roll.
“Hey, you can’t blame our assumptions. You always act like you’re above that type of stuff,” Toritsuka defends. “Like, if you’re not into Teruhashi, who the hell else are you gonna fall for?”
“Well, I thought it’d be me, obviously. At least, in the beginning,” Aiura huffs, before waving it off with a grin. “But clearly, I think Teruhashi and I were just barking up the wrong tree— if you get what I mean.”
The matching looks are supremely telling, even without reading their thoughts.
So. Saiki’s eyes narrow to slits. I’m assuming that has something to do with your stalking.
“C’mon, it wasn’t stalking. It was just a little bit of friendly reconnaissance,” Aiura says as she avoids eye contact. “It’s just— we’ve never seen you talk or smile that much. Like, ever. We had to know what the hubbub with that guy was all about, y'know?”
Oh.
Saiki self-consciously presses a thumb to his throat and swallows, suddenly aware of its soreness. He hadn’t even realised what it must have looked like to Aiura and Toritsuka who sit literally only two columns away from him and Satou in the classroom— an actual front row seat to Saiki’s embarrassingly enthusiastic attempts at bonding.
He’s getting sloppy.
What are you two actually getting at? he grunts, but really, it’s a rhetorical question that they all already know the fucking answer to.
“Okay, I mean— the cards weren’t that specific!” Aiura abruptly backtracks, seeming to have lost her nerve at the last second. “It really could be anyone. The readings did say ‘the near future’, which may as well mean it’s gonna be someone from your university or something. We were just making some assumptions—”
Unexpectedly, it’s Toritsuka who steps forward and cuts her off.
“Oh my god. You’re still acting like Saiki doesn’t already know what you’re thinking,” he groans loudly.
“It’s pretty damn obvious you’re really into that Satou guy, alright? Big boobs bimbo and I followed you earlier because we thought you guys were on a date. And you’ve gotta admit— he’s boring as hell, but I’ve never seen you happier than when you were talking to him. So who knows! It just sure looked like Satou’s got a way better chance than literally every hot chick in your life. And given the readings…”
A beat of silence passes after Toritsuka’s speech. Saiki tiredly rubs a hand over his face.
“Look. My premonitions about your future intensely hot sexy love life might not even come true anyway. My powers are strong, but they're not infallible,” Aiura’s crooked smile turns a degree softer. “We just… we think you might be having a crush on Satou, Saiki.”
Saiki sighs, looking down at his folded arms. There’s an inexplicable lurch of nerves in his chest— an exact replica of what he'd felt when he nearly failed to stop that damn volcano from erupting and when his friends came face to face with undeniable proof of his psychic powers. But those scenarios can't even hold a candle to the reality he's forced to confront right now.
Because for the first time in his life, Saiki knows he's in over his head.
Yeah, he agrees morosely. I think so too.