Work Text:
Onigawara Tenga can’t lie- he’s tired. So. Fucking. Tired. He wishes he could just leave this hell hole behind- who really needs middle school anyway?
He can’t suppress the self-deprecating snort that’s wretched from somewhere dark in his chest.
Yeah, who needs it- and yet, here is he, on a weekend, hanging around school grounds. He supposes he’s just a glutton for punishment.
There’s really no one else here- why would there be?
Typically, he and his friends would come here around the school to chill, maybe kick trash around the school yard a bit. But even they’re not here today.
Tenga doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t even know why he came here today himself.
He sighs, pushing off the wall of the school building.
He supposes there was simply nothing better to do. And besides, maybe it’s better that the school’s empty. No one’s here to judge him.
It’s almost kind of nice.
Tenga shoves his hands into his pockets, shuffling around the side of the building.
But still. Maybe he should just go home. The loneliness is starting to get to him, and he doesn’t need to feel more depressed.
As Tenga rounds the corner however, he hears the distinctive crunch of feet across grass, and he looks up in surprise.
Apparently he’s not as alone as he thought.
A familiar looking kid pulls up short, a few feet from Tenga.
For a second, Tenga almost doesn’t recognize him.
The kid is covered in bruises- red, purple, and yellow spreading across his face in different fucked up patterns. And there are cuts littering his skin-the most distinct being on a still healing split lip.
Tenga’s first coherent thought about the kid is- Damn, even I’d have to try pretty hard to get fucked up that badly.
He isn’t wearing a uniform, but a green hoodie with a cute cartoon dog’s face sewn into the front. He looks young.
Between the outfit, and the bruises, and the kid’s general nondescript features, Tenga supposes he can be forgiven for taking a few seconds too many to figure out that he is looking at Kageyama from the Body Improvement Club.
After all, besides setting him up in the whole Black Vinigear debacle, Tenga hasn’t paid him much attention. He’s seen the kid of course, when he apologized to him, and in the club after school, but it’s not as if Tenga really trains with Musashi and the rest of them- he hasn’t wanted to be seen by the other students for the past few days. So Tenga’s never really bothered to register the second year’s presence much. It doesn’t help that Kageyama usually just blends into the background.
Now that he thinks about it, Tenga doesn’t even remember what most people call Kageyama. Didn’t it start with an M or something?
“Oh,” Kageyama says, his voice as quiet and flat as ever, as he registers Tenga in front of him. “Hello, Onigawara.”
“Kageyama,” Tenga acknowledges stiffly, eyes still glued to the numerous bruises and cuts that litter pale skin. “What the hell happened to you? Those bastards from Black Vinegar find you again?”
He hopes not. He gets the feeling that he’s caused Kageyama enough trouble.
Tenga tries to envision it- the brutes from that stupid prep school going after him. He has to suppress a flinch. There’s something just inherently wrong about that mental image of Kageyama, the pale, scrawny, unassuming kid in front of him, getting beaten on by thugs. It makes guilt well up in Tenga’s chest.
He’s done his fair share of shitty things, but he’s never been one to pick a fight with someone just because they’re weaker. He can’t imagine what kind of asshole would just beat up a kid like Kageyama.
But Kageyama shakes his head. “No, they didn’t do anything. It was an adult.”
Tenga double takes.
“What?” he demands, hands finally coming out of his pockets. He can’t stop himself from staring harder, closer, at Kageyama and the bruises.
Shit, an adult had done this? Just what the hell had Kageyama been up to?
Or… had it been an unprovoked attack? Tenga has trouble imagining Kageyama looking for trouble.
The thought makes something uncomfortable shift in his chest.
Kageyama just stares back at him blankly. “He tried to take Ritsu, and we got into a fight. We got away eventually.”
What the fuck?
Tenga just stares at the younger boy for a moment- what is he even supposed to say to something like that?
He shakes his head.
He can’t deal with this right now- Kageyama’s problems aren’t his own- and this adult, whoever they are, apparently had been dealt with.
(Still, Tenga makes a mental note to pay closer attention to Kageyama in the future. Just in case more bruises show up.)
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Tenga asks, shoving his hands back into his pockets and slouching. “Didn’t think anyone else would be bored enough to be hanging around here.”
“I came to talk to you, actually,” Kageyama says with a tilt of his head.
Tenga blinks slowly. “Eh?”
Who the hell would have told him to come looking here?
Kageyama doesn’t elaborate though, just stays blank faced and impassive as he stands in front of Tenga.
Tenga pulls back a bit, frowning down at Kageyama. “Why exactly are you looking for me?” he asks, his tone razor sharp.
He probably shouldn’t be so defensive- it’s not like he is, or ever could be, afraid of Kageyama. But enough people have caused him grief over the past few days that Tenga isn’t exactly ecstatic at the thought of being confronted by another student.
(Then again, Kageyama doesn’t seem like the type for confrontation...)
Kageyama looks away, a small frown forming on his face. It takes a moment before Tenga receives his reply, and he nearly considers snapping at the other boy to hurry up and spit it out already.
“I don’t want you to hurt Ritsu,” Kageyama says, seemingly at random.
Tenga’s thrown for another loop at that, and his brow furrows. “Who?”
Kageyama’s frown deepens, though it doesn’t seem to be directed at Tenga. “Ritsu- my younger brother. I know… I know what he did was wrong, and that you’re probably angry, but- I’m asking you to not hurt him.”
Ritsu... younger brother… who exactly is he-
Ah.
Tenga remembers now. That day in class. They had called the other student council member, the younger one, Kageyama. He hadn’t really made the connection before- then again, he hadn’t really been thinking too clearly at that time either.
Tenga scoffs, lifting his chin. “You mean the brat that helped Kamuro pin that recorder shit on me? You’re damn right I’m angry!”
Kageyama flinches slightly at the sound of Tenga raising his voice, and for a moment, Tenga almost feels kind of bad about that, but Kageyama recomposes himself easily.
“Please,” Kageyama says simply, the soft drifting across the few feet between them.
There’s something about the way Kageyama’s looking at Tenga that sets his teeth on edge, even though there’s no threat to be found.
“Listen,” Tenga grits out, “I know I apologized for the whole Black Vinegar thing, but that doesn’t suddenly make us pals! Where do you get off thinking you can tell me-”
Tenga is cut off by something inexplicable, a rush of- energy- or power- or something- like a rush of wind, as Kageyama stretches a hand outward, towards the trees to their right.
Tenga frowns, thrown off by the sudden feeling. “What the-”
And then there is a stone bench, that had been set firmly beneath the tree, floating in the air.
Tenga’s mouth drops open, and he stares as the bench lifts further up, up, up, shrouded in something- something blue and violet and fractal- and it spins, almost as if suspended in zero gravity.
It floats higher, twists, one last time, then slowly floats back down, setting gently beneath the tree once more.
The blue glow around it dissipates, and the energy that had flooded outwards seems to reign itself in, pulling back like a tide over sandy shores.
Tenga is left gaping at the bench.
Had it just- was that-
Tenga whips back around to Kageyama, whose hand has now lowered, and is simply watching him, expectant.
“What the hell was that?!” Tenga all but screeches.
Instead of answering, Kageyama says, “I was the one who beat Hanazawa that day.”
Tenga’s fairly sure that his eyes are slowly being forced from his skull out of sheer shock.
“What- how-”
“He’s like me,” Kageyama says, seemingly nonplussed by Tenga’s spluttering.
Tenga snaps his mouth shut, and just stares for a moment, reevaluating the boy in front of him.
What did he know about Kageyama really?
That he is plain, blends into the background, doesn’t talk much, is kind of weird, and isn’t very strong. He had seemed a little intimidated by Tenga that day he confronted him in the stairway to apologize, but he doesn’t shy away from Tenaga’s presence in general (not the way so many others do nowadays). He knows now that Kageyama has a younger brother on the student council that quite possibly helped fuck over Tenga’s entire middle school career.
For all intents and purposes however, Kageyama doesn’t seem to concern himself much with Onigawara Tenga, unless confronted by the older boy directly. And Tenga, for his part, has done much the same.
But now- Kageyama is standing in front of him, having apparently lifted a bench from over ten feet away, with bruises on his face, and Tenga thinks that maybe, perhaps, he should have paid more attention to the scrawny, quiet kid from the body improvement club.
“Like you?” Tenga asks, swallowing thickly, and he hates that he can hear trepidation in his voice.
“He’s an esper too,” Kageyama replies simply.
“An esper,” Tenga repeats, and there’s something like awe, disbelief, and barely suppressed hysteria in the words.
“Uh-huh.” Kageyama nods.
Tenga’s mind is whirling. He’s heard the word before, but never thought much of it.
Now that he thinks about it, there might have been rumors murmured once or twice about a weird kid who could make things move with his mind.
He’d never really given it any thought before.
“So you’re like… psychic?” Tenga clarifies, tentative.
“Uh-huh.”
“And that Hanazawa kid,” Tenga swallows, thinking back to how easily the Black Vinegar shadow leader had thrown him around, how he had barely even touched Tenga, yet sent him flying with ease, “…he had powers too?”
The corners of Kageyama’s lips pull down a bit, in something that’s not quite a frown, and his eyes drift to the ground. Still, he nods. “Yes. He was using them against people. I told him not to.”
Tenga is still reeling, trying to wrap his head around this- around the boy in front of him, and around what had happened that day.
“So… that was you?” Tenga presses. “You beat him? And-and that stuff with the school-”
“I didn’t mean to destroy the school,” Kageyama says quickly, and he seems a bit less composed, a bit more frantic, his eyes a bit wider. “I’m still not sure I put it back correctly,” he admits, voice smaller. “I wasn’t thinking too clearly at the time.”
Tenga takes a sharp breath.
The school.
He had… well he hadn’t really forgotten- it would be difficult to forget how there had been video of an entire school deconstructing and then reconstructing itself while they were unconscious. But Tenga hasn’t really thought about it… hadn’t even really thought to connect it to the fight with Hanazawa.
But if what Kageyama is saying is true- if both he and Hanazawa are espers…
Shit. Had Kageyama really destroyed, and then rebuilt an entire school?
Tenga doesn’t know if what he’s feeling is awe or horror- if he’s honest, he almost feels a bit numb.
Silence stretches between them, and surprisingly, it’s Kageyama who breaks it, looking a bit lost in thought, and sounding just a touch sheepish as he says, “I think Hanazawa mentioned that some of the bathroom signs and classroom plaques got switched. I hope it didn’t cause too much confusion.”
This doesn’t feel like reality.
“You’re psychic,” Tenga repeats, more to himself than anything.
Kageyama just nods, giving him an odd look.
Tenga stares, stares for a long moment, his mind almost entirely blank, the gears in his brain coming to a grinding halt.
Psychic.
This kid in front of him had defeated Hanazawa, the shadow leader that none of them had even been able to lay a hand on.
Psychic.
He had destroyed, and then rebuilt an entire school.
Psychic.
This is the kid Tenga has been looking for.
And with that thought, it’s like a cog coming loose, and reality seems to flood in at all sides.
This- this is White-T-Poison.
A sound seems to choke him, bubbling up and bursting forth, quiet, sparse, and then, Tenga can’t hold it back anymore and he’s laughing hysterically.
He’s been looking all this time, and White-T-Poison had been right under his nose.
And he’s a fucking esper to boot!
Tenga can’t help his cackling, as he throws his head back.
Kageyama just continues to watch him, only looking mildly curious at Tenga’s nearly unhinged behavior.
When Tenga can finally collect himself, his teeth snap shut with a clack, landing in a vicious smile.
“This is perfect!” Tenga shouts. “Kageyama, you have to join us- become our shadow leader!”
Kageyama for his part doesn’t look surprised by the offer.
“You won’t hurt Ritsu, right?” he asks instead of answering the question.
Tenga pauses, his smile dropping. “…huh?”
“Ritsu,” Kageyama reminds him, his monotone speeding up just slightly, sounding a bit more pressing. “My brother. You won’t try to hurt him? Or retaliate?”
Tenga blinks owlishly.
The brother, right.
That’s why Kageyama’s here in the first place. Tenga had forgotten honestly- he’s been a bit too caught up in finding out the existence of psychic powers and the identity of White-T-Poison.
So that’s what Kageyama wants then? For his brother to be left alone.
Tenga scoffs. “Fine. The kid’s off the hook. So you’ll be our shadow leader?”
It’s perhaps a bit annoying- to be bound into inaction when someone had so thoroughly trashed his reputation.
But Tenga’s big enough to admit that at the end of the day, he can’t fully blame what happened on the student council. Besides, he’s not all that interested in going after Kageyama’s younger brother.
And if this is what it takes to get White-T-Poison on board, then it’s a small price to pay.
Kageyama nods, but he still looks a bit uncertain, a bit hesitant. His eyes dart from Tenga, to the ground, then back again.
“I don’t really like hurting people,” Kageyama admits after a moment’s silence.
“You won’t have to,” Tenga hurries to assure him.
He’s perhaps not being fully honest- after all, the point of a shadow leader is for them to act as a trump card.
But while it’s good to have such a powerhouse on their side, Tenga and his gang typically could handle whatever they needed to. They’re powerhouses in their own right. They had perhaps been a bit too cocky when approaching Black Vinegar, but the reality is that people like Hanazawa are the exception, not the norm.
The problem, the real problem, is that once someone is beaten, their reputation takes that same beating. And Tenga can’t go around with other gangs thinking they can get in on his territory because he’s ‘weak.’ He needs a figure head, something to scare the others back into the shadows.
He needs White-T-Poison.
He needs Kageyama.
And yes, perhaps the time will come when they do need him in a fight. But Tenga is willing to cross that bridge when he comes to it.
For now, he’s willing to say whatever he needs to to get Kageyama on board.
Kageyama is eyeing Tenga, as if searching for something. If he is, then he must find whatever it is, because nods, decisive.
“Okay. So long as you promise to leave Ritsu alone, I’ll help,” Kageyama says.
Tenga’s laugh is relieved this time, less manic.
“Deal! Full protection for family members- we can do that.”
The relief Tenga feels is gratifying for a full five seconds. Then, it’s like a building that’s pressure point has finally cracked, and Tenga feels the weight of the past few days collapses on his shoulders all at once, and his shoulders sag.
He’s so tired.
“Besides,” Tenga says with a sigh, “I brought this on myself. I don’t really have anyone to blame but me.”
Kageyama tilts his head just slightly, but if he’s curious as to what Tenga means, he doesn’t press the issue.
“Are you going to go back to class?” he asks instead.
Tenga’s gaze drifts to the sky above them, his lips pressed in a flat line.
Is he?
He isn’t sure.
He thinks he wants to.
But he also kind of wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole- so.
“Yeah,” Tenga says after a moment’s delibartaion. “Yeah, I think I am.”
When Tenga draws his gaze back to Kageyama, the younger student seems to almost be smiling, something akin to satisfaction in the slight upturn of his mouth.
Tenga clears his throat, and glances away, towards the direction of the school track.
His eyes linger there, and he can’t help but think of running with Musashi- of Kageyama desperately trying to keep up with the rest of the group- of Kageyama being dragged back to the club room when he inevitably collapsed.
“Hey, Kageyama,” Tenga says, curiosity coloring his tone as he turns back to his new leader. Kageyama gives a hum to indicate that he is listening. “Why are you working out with those lugheads from the Body Improvement Club?” Tenga can’t help but ask. “You have powers- that fight with Hanazawa proved that you’re stronger than they are. Why bother with any of that physical stuff at all?”
Kageyama just shrugs. “Having psychic powers doesn’t really mean much of anything in the long run. They can’t really get you what you want. I’d rather improve and grow on my own, without relying on my powers.”
Tenga blinks in surprise at that.
Can’t get him what he wants?
Like what exactly?
Tenga can’t really imagine what Kageyama could want that is so complicated even psychic powers couldn’t get it for him.
Still though- the idea is almost… endearing. Maybe even a little inspiring.
The hints that Musashi has been dropping to him all week suddenly make a lot more sense.
All that talk about change… heh. Apparently he wasn’t just talking out his ass then.
Tenga can’t help the small smile that curves his lips. “That so.” He eyes Kageyama, White-T-Poison, for a moment. Well, Musashi had offered…
“Mind if I join your little work out group officially then?”
Kageyama remains straight faced, though there seems to be something sparking in his dark, dull eyes.
“I’m not the club president, so I can’t say,” Kageyama replies. “But I’m sure President Musashi wouldn’t mind.”
And then a smile- a real smile from Kageyama. It’s small, but there, and welcoming, and Tenga feels himself breath a bit easier.
“Yeah,” Tenga says, and he finds himself smiling back.
The loneliness from just a few minutes ago no longer feels so insurmountable.