Chapter Text
Kirishima Kei considered himself to be an excellent judge of character. He prided himself on his ability to take one look at a person and be able to accurately guess all he’d ever need to know about them: their upbringing, their personality, whether they were trustworthy or not, and even what they were thinking at the time. It’s not that he had a sixth sense or ESP or any such nonsense; he was just very smart and extremely observant. Yet he had been quietly and obsessively observing the boy seated beside him for hours now, and felt frustratingly, maddeningly no closer to understanding him at all.
Kirishima had immediately noticed the other boy sitting a few rows ahead of him in the entrance ceremony for the way that he seemed to stand apart from the crowd of other students. For although Ishin Academy was an extremely prestigious private school populated by only the best of the best – the sons of politicians, doctors, business tycoons, etc. – Kirishima found that despite their expensive uniforms, most of the students still looked like rowdy teenaged boys.
But not this boy.
Kirishima wasn’t particularly interested in guys (or girls, for that matter) but even he had to admit that this boy was incredibly good looking. His inky hair seemed shades darker than the dull black of the students around him, and although it was clear he was still growing into his looks, he already had the cheekbones and jawline of classic Greek mythology. His uniform fit him as though the design had been made for him, and all the other students were simply left to suck it up and deal with wearing the same thing. But it was his eyes that made shivers curl up Kirishima’s spine when the boy glanced back in his direction in the middle of the ceremony. They were molten gold, piercing and sharp… and completely unreadable.
Truly, it was this that caught Kirishima’s attention. Despite the slight hint of a smirk that played about the other boy’s lips, his expression overall was unaffected, and Kirishima hadn’t the slightest idea what he was thinking. Was this boy amused by the entrance ceremony? Bored? Keenly interested? It frustrated him to the ends of the Earth that he couldn’t tell. He realized he was staring, trying to work it out, when the boy’s eyes shifted to land directly on Kirishima. Suddenly it became an intense staring contest as the boy refused to look away, and Kirishima tried unsuccessfully to glean more information from him. Finally, unable to stand that unrelenting and unrevealing gaze any longer, Kirishima broke and looked away in irritation.
And things only went downhill from there.
At first, Kirishima wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or elated to find that the other boy was in his class. On the one hand, it gave him more of a chance to observe him, to see if he could find out what lay beneath that mask of his. But on the other, it meant spending the year with a boy that Kirishima found he was rapidly starting to dislike.
It became abundantly clear almost immediately that this was a boy who was used to getting his own way. When their teacher began directing them to their assigned seats, the boy calmly raised his hand and spoke without even waiting for acknowledgment.
“Sensei, don’t you think it would be better if we were able to choose our own seats? That way we would be both more invested and more accountable for paying attention to your lessons.”
That wasn’t true at all, Kirishima thought in annoyance. Their teacher, however, was already nodding in surprising agreement with the boy, and the class was shuffling itself around trying to get the good seats. The next thing Kirishima knew he was sitting in the middle of the classroom, directly next to the golden eyed boy. When their teacher asked for volunteers for the class rep position, the boy tilted his head slightly and said “Kirishima-kun will do it.” Kirishima spluttered his refusal, but no one listened to him, and he found himself glaring daggers at the smugly impassive face beside him. Kirishima now felt that the boy’s black hair was appropriately coloured to match his soul.
The rest of the day proceeded in exactly the same way: the golden-eyed boy would make subtle orders disguised as suggestions, and the teacher would follow them without question. The other students had begun whispering appreciatively about this kid, and all Kirishima could think was about his uncontrollably growing desire to punch the boy in the face to make him shut up.
Finally, finally, the bell sounded the end of the day, and Kirishima began methodically packing up his things, never lifting his eyes from his desk. At this point, he didn’t even want to look at his classmate, regardless of whether or not the boy’s unreadable face intrigued him. But of course, it couldn’t be that easy for him.
“Hello,” the now all-too-familiar voice spoke from directly above him. Slowly, reluctantly, Kirishima looked up to glare into golden eyes. “I’m sorry, I hope you didn’t mind me suggesting you for the class rep, it’s just that you seem so fitting for the job.”
“How would you know that?” Just because he had glasses and seemed bookish didn’t mean that he wanted extra work piled on top of him.
“Oh, I’m certain that you’ll be more than capable, Kirishima-kun.” That wasn’t what he’d meant by his question, and Kirishima was certain that the boy knew it. “I’m Asami Ryuichi, by the way.” Asami stuck out his hand, and though Kirishima was disinclined to want to shake it, he was nothing if not polite.
“Kirishima Kei.”
“Oh, I know.” Asami smiled in a way that Kirishima suspected would make rich old grandmothers sign over their life’s fortune to him.
“Do you?” he frowned, discomfited by Asami’s smile and how close he was standing and how stupidly-perfect the Windsor knot on his tie looked.
“I know all about you, Kirishima,” Asami leaned comfortably against his desk, and Kirishima didn’t fail to note how he’d dropped the honorific and addressed him so informally. “You graduated at the top not only your class but also your entire school, and placed within the top five of the country. Your father is a doctor, your mother a lawyer, and though they could easily pay your tuition here you’ve been given a full scholarship because Ishin wanted you so badly. You’re an internationally-ranked chess player, and you speak four languages.” Asami’s smiled had curled into a smirk, and he regarded Kirishima calmly, clearly waiting for a reply. Kirishima struggled to give him one.
“If you know so much, then what do you want?”
“Nothing,” Asami shrugged. “At least, not yet.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I want to see if what I’ve heard is true.” Asami grinned and leaned closer, so that his golden eyes were inches away from Kirishima’s face. When he spoke again, Kirishima couldn’t help but think that it was the voice of a boy that was used to having power, and knew how to obtain more of it. Despite his dislike for Asami, it made him somehow want to prove himself to him.
“I want to see what you’re capable of.”
And with that he turned and walked away, leaving Kirishima flustered and irritated and absolutely, 100% certain that Asami Ryuichi was someone that he would never, ever get along with.