Chapter Text
Jiro was not happy. Once again, it was June first, and that meant spending the next three months with her eccentric aunt in a tiny ass town of less than a thousand people, because her mom couldn’t be bothered with dealing with her for that long. Well, she said it was because her work required too much of her time and attention that she’d only be neglecting her daughter if she stayed, but Jiro knew better. It was neglect either way.
There was one bright spot to the whole ordeal, and it was seeing one of her closest friends, Kaminari. Hanging out with him every summer almost made it worth it, though she wished he could visit her in the city. They’d have so many more places to explore together, especially since they’d basically memorized the town.
Laden with three suitcases, a plastic guitar case, and a threadbare backpack, Jiro made her way down her aunt’s driveway. Her mom hadn’t even bothered to drop her off this time, instead just sending her off on a plane with an overly tearful goodbye. In the past years, she’d at least gotten a three-day road trip with before being ditched, but apparently, that was now too long for her mom to be away from her office.
“Kyoka!” her aunt crooned from the doorway. She shuffled down the porch steps, a feat that was weirdly impressive considering the sheer amount of skirts and shawls were draped around her hips, and gathered her niece into a doughy hug.
“Hi, Aunt B.” Jiro said, her grip on her luggage stopping her from returning the embrace.
Aunt B leaned back, her hands on Jiro’s upper arms, beaming as she examined her. “You’ve grown so much since last year! And I love what you did with your hair.” She ran a finger through the choppy bob, and Jiro let out an uncomfortable laugh, taking a step back to escape her grasp.
“It’s good to see you again.”
“Come, come, I’ve got dinner on the stove, and you should get settled.” Her aunt ushered Jiro up the porch and into the house. “I trust you remember which room is yours?”
Jiro nodded and shuffled her way to the small bedroom at the end of the hall. It was exactly how she remembered it, from the metal framed bed beneath the window, to the shabby dresser, to the bookshelf filled with tomes of obscure topics as well as porcelain knickknacks. Sighing, she heaved the largest suitcase onto the bed and opened it, beginning the tedious task of unpacking.
By the time she was halfway through the last suitcase, Aunt B was at the door, announcing that dinner was ready. Jiro offered a halting smile, and joined her in the dining room, sitting in a worn chair at the circular wooden table. Aunt B looked as joyous as the sun at noon as she ladled a glob of some sort of grainy looking food onto two plates, setting one of them in front of Jiro.
“Quinoa casserole! I came up with the recipe myself!” she announced proudly. Jiro nodded her thanks, feeling that it would be rude to say that she could tell the dish was an experiment. She hesitantly took a bite, trying not to grimace at the odd mix of flavors and textures. Had Aunt B put cinnamon and lemon in the same dish?
“Now I’m sure you remember the rules, but just to reiterate.” B began, one finger tapping the table. “You can come and go as you please, as long as you at least leave a note on the fridge saying where you went. You’ve got free access to food and books but try not to touch my dolls. They don’t like it. I know I can’t stop you from using your phone and things, but please respect that I don’t like technology and don’t use those around me if you can help it. And don’t go into the forest. Ever.”
Jiro nodded, familiar with the usual restrictions. She didn’t understand her aunt, but she could follow the rules. She was generally free to do what she wanted, after all, and she didn’t want to know what was up with the dolls.
Still… curiosity tickled her, and she found herself asking the question she always did, hoping her Aunt would be less mysterious with her answers. “What’s up with the forest, anyway?”
Aunt B pinned her with a steely gaze. “Let’s hope you never find out.”
“Seriously, Aunt B, you say something along those lines every year. Why are you so adamant about staying away from the forest? Is there, like, a monster lurking in there? Werewolves? Vampires?”
“Don’t be silly, werewolves and vampires don’t live in this part of the world.” She snapped.
“So, what is in there?” Jiro pressed.
“I said you don’t want to know. Trust me.” She took a deep breath, settling her face into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Why don’t you go say hi to your friend?”
Jiro glanced at the clock, whose hands were pointing at 7:15. Hopefully he’d be home. “Alright.”
She pushed away from the table, checking the mirror to make sure she looked decent. Her purple hair swung around her head in choppy pieces, and she ruffled her hand through the strands to mess it up more. Her long, peach colored shirt was a bit rumpled, but that was okay, especially with her baggy black jeans and cropped black jacket. Tightening her combat boots, she stretched and headed out the door.
After eight years of the same routine, Jiro’s feet knew exactly where to go, and she soon found herself standing in front of the familiar brick house that belonged to her best friend. With the first real spark of excitement she’d felt since leaving her home, she bounded up the porch and pounded on the front door.
It was opened by a short, pudgy woman with blonde hair and a smile.
“Oh, my! Is that you Jiro, here for the summer again?” Kaminari’s mom pulled her in for a brief, squishy hug.
“Yeah, I’m here for the next three months.” Jiro confirmed after pulling away. “Is Denki here?”
“He’s in the garage with some friends. Go on ahead, you know your way.”
“Thank you!” Jiro shot her a smile before clomping into the house and finding the door that led to the garage. She could definitely hear something going on in there. It sounded metallic, and every few seconds someone would shout aggressively. Jiro guessed that was Kaminari’s friend; she’d never heard him sound so violent.
She paused with her hand inches from the knob, nerves briefly getting the best of her. Yeah, Kaminari was her best friend, but she hadn’t seen him for nine months. Despite the fact that it had never happened before, she could never quite squash the fear that he would move on from their friendship.
Shaking her head, she scolded herself for being ridiculous. Kaminari was one of her closest friends and that would never change. Before she could psych herself out, she gripped the door handle and entered the garage with a large grin.
All the noise dyed down, and three pairs of eyes focused on Jiro. Refusing to let her feathers be ruffled, she shut the door behind her and she greeted them with a wave, taking in the scene in front of her. There was a pile of drums in the center of the garage with two boys she had never seen before crouched beside it. Guitars and speakers and other sound making machines were littered across the cement floor.
“Oh my god, Kyoka!” a familiar voice shouted, and Kaminari was suddenly bolting from he’d been sitting and fiddling with various tools. He barreled into her, throwing his arms around her in a bear hug. Nearly falling backwards, Jiro planted her boot clad feet and squeezed the boy back as tight as she could without worrying about breaking his ribs.
Finally, they stepped apart, the air between them crackling with pure joy.
“Summer’s officially started now!” Kaminari beamed. “Oh, god, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too, Pikachu.” Jiro gently slugged him in the arm, calling him the nickname she’d given him because of the black lightning bolt streak in his yellow hair.
There was a cough from behind them. “Uh, who the fuck is this?” the speaker was an angry looking boy with spiky blonde hair and red eyes. He wore a black skull t shirt and baggy jeans paired with bright red sneakers.
Kaminari turned, his hand on Jiro’s shoulder as he introduced her. “This is my best friend, Kyoka!” he gestured to the angry boy. “That’s Kastuki.”
“I thought I told you I’m going by Lord Explodo-Murder from now on.”
Everyone ignored him. Jiro hoped he was joking, but it was hard to tell. It was like the guy had two facial expressions, mildly angry, and big angry.
“And that,” Kaminari gestured to the other boy, who had bright red hair that had clearly been carefully styled into spikes. He was lounging on the ground, looking as relaxed as could be, clad in a red tank top, black sweats, and grey crocs. Crocs? Of all shoe choices he was wearing crocs? “is Katsuki’s boyfriend, Eijiro.” There was an edge to his voice when he said “boyfriend” that Jiro couldn’t place. She glanced at him, wondering what was up.
The boy, Eijiro, waved with a wide grin. “Nice to meet you, Kyoka!”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Jiro said. She wandered into the middle of the garage, nudging an electric guitar with her foot. “So, what’s up with all the instruments?”
Kaminari’s yellow eyes lit up. “We decided to start a band!”
“Oh my god, that’s sick!” a crackle of excitement shot through Jiro.
Kaminari was practically vibrating as he spoke. “Which means you got here just in time, ‘cause we needed another guitarist!”
“You want me to join?”
“Fuck, yeah! Of course, you gotta join, I mean you were part of why I picked up guitar in the first place!” he replied.
“I’m so glad I packed my guitar.” Jiro said.
“So, is that a yes?”
“Uh, yes! Obviously!”
Katsuki scoffed from where he sat on the floor. “Great, your girlfriend’s joining us. That’s just peachy.”
“Be nice, babe.” Eijiro said.
“Um, Kaminari and I are not a couple. At all. We’re just best friends.” Jiro corrected him. “Besides, aren’t you guys dating? And you’re part of the band?”
“Yeah, but we’re gay, so we’re an exception.” Katsuki said.
Jiro snorted. “Wonderful, because I’m also gay. Which is why Kaminari and I will never be a thing.”
“Oh, you’re a lesbian. Okay, I guess I can tolerate you, then.”
“That makes everyone in the band queer.” Kaminari remarked. “Since I’m also gay.”
Jiro looked at him. “I thought you were bisexual?”
“Same difference.” He shrugged.
“Okay, this is all well and good, but these drums are still a fuckin’ mess. You gonna help or what?” Katsuki interrupted.
Jiro turned and surveyed the pile. “How long have you guys been working on this?”
“Uh, two, maybe three hours?” Eijiro said. She laughed.
“God, you guys are amazing. Here, let me help.”
With Jiro’s assistance, the drums were set up in under an hour. Yeah, the boys did most of the work, mostly so they could save their fragile egos, but they made a lot more progress with her directing them. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, smiling smugly.
“Now, was that so hard?” she asked.
“We could have done that ourselves.” Katsuki scowled. Eijiro laughed and draped an arm across his shoulders.
“Yeah, sure, that’s why we didn’t.” he planted a kiss on his cheek. Jiro noticed Kaminari looking away, his shoulders sagging slightly. Now, that was interesting.
“Are we going to jam, or what?” Kaminari said, picking up a yellow guitar with black lightning decals. It matched his hair perfectly, and Jiro didn’t think that was a coincidence.
“I don’t have my guitar.” Jiro pointed out.
Eijiro grabbed a silver guitar that was covered in stickers, mostly of random band logos. “You can use this one.” He handed it to her before retrieving a bright red bass.
After everyone was set up, with Katsuki sitting at the drum set, Kaminari strummed a few chords to test the sound before asking what they should play.
“First of all, do we even have a band name? Or are we just some kids in a garage at this point?” Jiro said.
“Oh, yeah, we settled on Babbling Yaks.” Eijiro replied.
She nodded. “Alright.”
Katsuki began hitting the drums, setting a beat. “We all know Blitzkrieg Bop, yeah?”
The other three all nodded in confirmation and they began to play. It was a bit rocky, but that was to be expected, and Jiro was, in all honesty, rather impressed that they sounded as coherent as they did. After a few minutes of stumbling to find each other, they’d managed to bang the song out in a recognizable manner, and they played it a few more times before Kaminari began singing the lyrics. His voice wasn’t a traditionally nice singing voice, but it was perfect for the genre, and it had an electricity that made it unique. Jiro seriously thought that the four of them had some potential to become something more than just four kids hanging out in a garage.
And then it was 3 am and Eijiro and Katsuki had gone home. Jiro and Kaminari had migrated to his basement, the same basement she’d hung out in for a quarter of the year for the past eight years, stretched out on the worn-out couch, catching up on everything. Jiro didn’t like staying in her aunt’s house, with her creepy dolls and her eccentric habits, and she didn’t like feeling stuck in a town this small, but late nights like these with Kaminari made it all worth it. She was so incredibly grateful that she’d met him all those years ago, hanging out on a swing set at the age of nine.
She smiled, recalling the fond memory. What had started with the two of them having a competition of who could swing the highest had ended with two children landing in the mud and proceeding to have a mud fight. They’d been best friends ever since, keeping in touch via letters, e-mails, and eventually texts whenever Jiro had to go back to the city.
She still thought that the ideal scenario would be Kaminari visiting her one day, instead of the other way around.
Suddenly, it was past 4 am and Jiro decided she should go back to Aunt B’s house, if for the sole purpose of taking a nap, grabbing her own guitar, and heading straight back to Kaminari’s house.
“You could stay the night.” He pointed out as she donned her jacket.
“I don’t have clothes, or a toothbrush, or anything.” she countered. “Besides, I’m coming back in a few hours. Plus, you’ve got three whole months dedicated to putting up with me. I don’t want you getting tired of me too quick.”
“You make a good point,” he admitted with a yawn.
Jiro smiled fondly at him. “Get some sleep, dude.”
“Mmkay.”
And with that, she was out the door, making her way back to her Aunt’s house.
The stars were twinkling overhead, the moon illuminating her path as she walked. Coming upon a fork in the road, she paused. This was always a tricky choice. One path led into the woods, and the other took a more meandering path through the town. Because of her aunt’s rule, she always took the path that went through town, but she knew that the side that disappeared into the trees was a much shorter journey. It was practically a straight shot to Aunt B’s house and would cut her time in half.
Aunt B would be furious if she gave in to the temptation of a shorter trip. For some reason, the forest rule was the one she was the most adamant about, and she probably had what she thought was a good reason for it. Jiro recalled an instance when she was around ten when she’d taken a few curious steps into the woods, only to be roughly jerked back by her aunt’s hand on her arm. Her eyes had been filled with terror, and she’d refused to answer any of Jiro’s questions about the forest. Clearly, she was scared of whatever was in amongst the trees. Maybe Jiro should be, too…
Then again, she also spoke to and about her dolls as if they were alive.
“Aunt B is crazy.” Jiro muttered to herself. Her mind made up, she changed her original course and headed off into the trees.