Chapter Text
Saiki Kusuo is a psychic.
Though, that term is a severe understatement and implies anything less than a mysteriously infallible existence with god-like abilities. No, he’s not being arrogant, it’s simply the truth. In fact, if he weren’t so adamant on blending into the crowd as a nameless side character, perhaps the universe would be suffering a very different fate.
Fortunately for humanity, Saiki’s powers are reserved more for things like finding the best discounts for groceries, and his interests lie only in the confectionery masterpiece that is coffee jelly. World-altering abilities be damned, all he wants is an inane, peaceful life.
However, lamentably, Saiki Kusuo is also a teenager.
He is a growing high schooler injected with the same amount of hormones and existential dread as his peers. While his exceptionally rational mind and indestructible esper powers numb these aspects considerably, they are unfortunately still there. These feelings buzz and buzz away like disgusting little flies at the back of his well-organised mind, stuffed into a tightly wrapped box he doesn’t want to acknowledge.
But sometimes, somehow, they escape out of nowhere and it completely catches him off guard. Those rare moments are a stark reminder that he is just like everyone else in the end, and it is needless to say, humbling—
—And it’s exactly how he’s feeling at this moment of revelation. Because for some reason, his cold, dead heart has skipped a beat when he meets those warm brown eyes belonging to one very unknowing Satou Hiroshi, who smiles at him like he hasn’t just accomplished the impossible.
Saiki Kusuo has developed a crush on Satou Hiroshi.
He is, undoubtedly, completely fucked.
✷｡𖦹°‧✷
Saiki thinks that the story begins as such:
On the first day of his third year of high school, eighteen year-old Saiki Kusuo strolls into his new classroom, inwardly elated at the prospect of being unrecognised and finally, finally achieving the loner lifestyle he so desires— not to mention doing that as someone freshly liberated from his psychic powers, at long last a regular mortal human unburdened by abilities that would absolutely make him stand out if discovered.
He doesn’t even make it to the end of the day before his dreams are crushed.
Firstly, every single person remotely relevant to the past year of his life has somehow ended up in the same class as him. Yes, everyone. They’ve even left a seat for Saiki right in the middle of the classroom— a kind gesture of friendship that has trapped him in a circle of constant attention forever.
Just wonderful.
Even Satou Hiroshi, who he has a healthy amount of interest in but has never actually interacted with, is sitting somewhere to the bottom right– a perfectly average position for a background student in a classroom full of people who act like main characters. Once again, Saiki is both impressed and envious.
Secondly, he ends up sitting right next to Teruhashi. In this respect, the script has already written itself and Saiki has no words. He has already accepted that sometimes, God’s favour triumphs all— and Teruhashi was born with every ounce of it.
She’s very pleased with the arrangement, of course, believing this to be her chance to make more moves on him. But while Saiki now admits that yes, Teruhashi indeed has an extremely attractive appearance… she will never be anything more than a good friend. And Saiki will not date someone with a god-complex— not when the closest thing this world has to a god is himself.
Lastly, his powers may not be entirely gone.
Saiki Kusuo is… maybe still a psychic?
No. He’s going to ignore that.
And so, the story trudges on.
He struggles with adapting to normalcy. He is vulnerable and weak. He is no longer protecting his friends, but the other way around. He hates it, but it’s the path he has chosen for the sake of independence. For the sake of being normal.
But why does he have to be? Kusuke asks. He’s not a psychic anymore, but he’s not a regular human either. Why can’t he just be okay with that?
Saiki finds himself uncertain.
Of course, his psychotic older brother saves him the trouble of hesitating by making him choose on the spot— save the world from an incoming asteroid that will wipe out humanity, or continue pretending to be a powerless, normal human.
…What an absolutely absurd situation. But it fucking works. He slides his glasses back on and decides that it doesn’t matter anymore.
Saiki is just Saiki. Not a normal human, not a psychic, not any other label. Just himself.
Maybe he won’t ever have an average life, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe he likes dealing with hassles after all.
In the end, perhaps all he had to do was accept that.
And so the story ends there, and Saiki thinks that life will carry on as usual.
✷｡𖦹°‧✷
But then the next semester arrives, and that’s when the real crisis begins.
“Hey, you’re Saiki Kusuo, right? I’m Satou, Satou Hiroshi. It’s, um, nice to meet you!”
Ugh, he probably hates me for replacing Teruhashi. I hope we get along. Saiki-kun always looks a little… fierce.
Good grief.
Compared to world-ending meteorites, Saiki Kusuo gazes upon his new deskmate— the Genius of the Ordinary, a boy with an awkward smile and a face that would be forgettable to anyone but himself— and feels astronomically more apprehensive about his future. Teruhashi also looks heartbroken to be separated from Saiki, but it’s for the better if he doesn’t want to get her hopes up. And her upset is not exactly his point of focus right now—
Because all that matters is that Satou fucking Hiroshi is sitting right next to him.
In reply, all Saiki can do is nod and try his damned hardest to not linger on the fact that his heart just skipped a fucking beat. Because Saiki does not do that. He does not get butterflies in his stomach and he certainly does not look at Satou out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the lesson.
It’s those damn chocolate-coloured irises, he swears. The way Satou’s doe-shaped eyes are framed by soot-black lashes and when they hit the sunlight, the brown hue transforms into a glittering shade of honey amber. And oh, Satou’s thoughts are such a soothing balm to Saiki’s mind, especially compared to the absolutely bizarre machinations of his peers. Such beautifully average ponderings about a new book he’s just read or praise for the lunch he’s just had, Saiki would listen forever if he could.
He’d heartily take that any day over, say, Toritsuka, whose perverse ruminations Saiki will not grant a single second more acknowledging.
This idolisation of Satou has so rapidly evolved into adoration that it even makes Saiki wonder if he’s been hit by a love spell of some sort. But no, not even Aiura would be able to manage that sort of feat. This is… all on himself. And it’s jarring. Saiki doesn’t even know if he likes guys. Saiki didn’t even know he was capable of being attracted to anyone at all, romantically or physically.
But he can deliberate on his sexuality another time.
Right now, Saiki’s back on his quest— to become friends with Satou Hiroshi. It’s a difficult start, given the fact that Saiki’s standard expression is practically glacial, and Satou is an average human being whose friendliness would be dampened when faced with an icy reception. Unlike literally all of Saiki’s friends, who wormed their way into his life through sheer force.
Unfortunately, this means that Saiki has to take initiative for once. He turns to his deskmate and clears his throat, because while he doesn’t like verbal communication, it just doesn’t feel right to speak the first words he’ll ever say to Satou telepathically.
“Satou,” he greets with a small, polite smile, and the boy looks a tad surprised that Saiki’s even speaking to him at all; understandable, given the colourful characters he’s usually surrounded by. Satou could not be further from them in terms of personality— which is absolutely perfect.
“I hope we have a good semester together.”
Saiki’s words are short and his deep voice is gravelly from lack of use, but it does coax a smile out of Satou. And oh, it is such a wonderfully average smile.
“Yeah… thanks, Saiki.”
Satou hesitates for a moment and seems to begin to say something more, but it seems the universe has decided that Saiki has had enough good things happen today. At once, there’s a crowd of people gathering around his table— the usual group of psychos denser than rocks, chattering and babbling about the new seating arrangement.
“Man, you’ve got it rough, Saiki,” Kaidou remarks with a teasing snicker. “Getting Teruhashi moved away from you like that.”
“Yeah, dude. I’d be so pissed. I’d probably flip the damn table!” Kuboyasu mimics the action, earning a chorus of laughter. Saiki does not join. Not any more than usual, anyway.
Oh trust me, he mentally sneers. I’m going to do just that if you all keep blocking Satou from view.
In the end, he and Satou don’t get a chance to speak for the rest of the day.
Saiki doesn't flip the table, but he does nearly put a seven-day blood curse on everyone.