Chapter Text
Yamato Endo sits crouched in the shadows of a rooftop overlooking the chaos and embers of a full-scale street brawl below. The night has not quite gone according to plan, and yet somehow is more entertaining than he’d expected. The presence of those two new Furin brats and their cute little tagalong puppy of a friend was a welcome surprise, but, of course, Tsubaki has spoiled all the fun by hogging the real fight for himself, then trying to turn everything into some boring, power-of-forgiveness shonen anime moment in the aftermath. Jesus christ, why couldn’t Chika smile about something that didn’t have to involve him putting up with this kind of saccharine display? He won’t bother to acknowledge that this whole master plan, to build up to the real show by taunting his former school this way, was his concoction in the first place, or that he was the one who’d recruited a veritable army of crews on two separate missions now, who’d all ended up being so hopeless they couldn’t even put down a handful of high school kids they had overwhelming numbers over, so if anything he’s the one who’s invited this sort of pathetic display on himself. After all, what other choice did he have, really? Was he supposed to ignore Chika’s smile?
He wouldn’t be so annoyed by it if he’d gotten to watch the new blood actually fight someone worth the effort. The eyepatch kid’s form was interesting, particularly because it felt more deceptive than merely fluid. Both times he’s watched him now, he’s felt like the guy was holding something back, but perhaps that was only because he was constantly stuck guarding the weak nerd, whom Endo supposes is probably his boyfriend, from all the worried glances and careful shepherding he’s done tonight. (Unless he’s the other one’s boyfriend, his brain unhelpfully offers up.) The truly disappointing thing is that this is the second time he’s been robbed of the chance to see what the one with the anime hair could really do in a proper one-on-one fight. One where his opponent was anyone with some real talent. There was something about that kid, his moves, his hot-tempered resolve; some inner fire that’s ignited an excitement in Endo that he hasn’t felt about anyone new in a very long time. Something that promises to make all of this effort for Chika worth more than just the warm glow of his devotion to seeing the destructive flame of Takiishi’s fighting spirit rekindled into a raging wildfire.
He’s growing bored with the hug-fest down in the street below. What a joke. It’s time to inject a little chaos; to make sure Umemiya’s little chumps get the memo to be ready for a not-so-friendly little visit from some old friends soon.
“From what you said, it sounded like someone employed you guys to take Shizuka back, right?” A voice below helpfully steers the weepy let’s-do-our-best optimism back to something actually practical. At least there was one guy down there not entirely stupid, he thinks.
“I’ll talk to him and work this out.” The group’s leader- who he would definitely have punched in the face for the audacity if it didn’t so perfectly set the stage for him to make the appropriate dramatic entrance for maximum effect- responds, more reassuringly than he should, given the circumstances.
Endo squats, backlit by the moon, on the lip of the building’s roof and calls out into the silence. “‘Talk’ huh?” He pauses while the heads of everyone still conscious on the street below jerk at the sound, trying to pinpoint where the new voice came from, then continues, tone dripping with disdain, “No one’s going to listen to a loser, especially not one who half-asses their job.”
Scratching the back of his neck dramatically with the put-upon air of a disappointed father, he sighs, “Sheesh… I am a terrible judge of character, but..” He leans in, ready to drop the bombshell. “It looks like I managed to get my hands on another one of these Furin cards.” He smiles. He has their undivided attention now. Eyepatch, Anime Hair, and their puppy flounder; at a loss for what’s going on. Tsubaki’s eyes seem to widen in shock and narrow at the same time as he recognises who’s just spoken.
“Why? Why are you here,” he demands. His cry regrettably causes Anime Hair’s striking mismatched eyes to leave Endo, much to Endo’s selfish dismay, as the boy realises that his Senpai knows the man on the roof.
Endo sneers, “Oh shut up. I can go wherever I want. That has never changed right?” He wants the feeling of Anime Hair’s eyes back on him; this is his big dramatic moment after all. He wants to make an impression. He’s not actually sure why he feels the need to be quite so theatrical about this, but he’s already decided to make sure he’s memorable, so he smiles what he hopes is a mysterious and devilish smile and continues in his best seductively dangerous tone, “The fun things, the enjoyable things, are all just stuff we do to pass the time until we die.”
Tsubaki, unimpressed, rolls his eyes and repeats, “Why are you here?’ in an irritated tone as Endo rises to his feet and steps smoothly off the edge of the building. Everyone else stares open-mouthed as he tries to stick a landing on the street below like an action star, but instead smashes painfully– because it’s a fucking two-story building– and awkwardly below. Grimacing and grabbing at the site of his most painful future bruise, he yelps with actual surprise, “That hurt!”
His audience is now looking at him as though they are unsure whether he’s a madman or an idiot, or both. For one moment, the puppy actually looks like he’s about to come over and help him out of pity. That won’t do. He glares at him, and the boy flinches. “What the-?’ he grumbles, testing the ligaments in his ankle. “I didn’t know it hurt that much to jump from the second floor! All those shows on TV make it look so easy!” This was a miscalculation. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It did probably accurately portray his chaotic, unpredictable nature, though, he thought. Probably. Well, whatever. Nothing’s broken, so he returns to the task at hand, lazy smirk back in place, target in sight.
The change in the atmosphere is immediate and palpable. Tsubaki and the older men around him snap into a ready fighting stance instantly. “Sakura, I’m warning you, don’t any of you boys try to touch him!”
Nakamura growls, “How dare you show your face here!”
Endo merely smiles with fake conciliation. Do these two really think he’s at all interested in them or the non-existent threat they pose? The only person whose reaction he’s interested in, craves to experience right now, is Sakura. Endo, who’s only had eyes for the first-years this whole time, hadn’t failed to notice the brief flare of uncertainty pass across Sakura’s face the moment the other boy had sensed the mood change, and he revels in the reaction.
“Hey, hey, hey…” Endo starts, as he ambles toward them hands up, palms out, head lowered, his eyes, while hidden by his shaggy hair, never leaving Sakura’s face, “It’s been forever since I last saw you guys. But if you’re rarin’ t’ go…” he pauses, raising his head and pinning his gaze to Sakura’s while a nakedly wolfish grin slowly curls across his features, “That’s gonna get my blood pumpin’ too.”
Sakura’s reaction is instantaneous. So is Eyepatch’s. And Endo isn’t sure he’s seen anything nearly as amusing in a long time as the two of them simultaneously jumping to action to form a protective defensive shield in front of that wide-eyed nerd they’ve brought along, like he was some damsel in distress they imagined Endo could ever have any interest in ravishing in any way. What the fuck, he thinks, as the two of them share some type of little silent conversation with their eyes about protecting their cowering boyfriend from him like he’s the big bad wolf. He’s more than a little annoyed by the implication that they would think his bothering to take the time to fight someone he’d probably knock out if he merely flicked them in the head would get his blood pumping? Like he’s a bully and not a hedonist. Whatever. That’s just insulting. He gives a mocking clap to their performance.
“Woooh, aren’t you kids looking super cool there. The brats are acting like they’re big boy heroes now!” he taunts. He sees Sakura’s face twitch in anger. Good, now you know how it feels, is his petty thought.
“I see,” Tsubaki cuts in, “So that’s what happened. It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one behind everything.”
Endo turns to him and merely smiles, letting Umemiya’s little guard dog absorb the truth.
“Hey, you!”, Sakura barks, and Endo lazily pivots his attention to the furious eyes of the boy, smirking in a way calculated to finally evoke the glorious, hot-tempered reaction he has been seeking this whole time. “Who do ya think you are, huh? Showin’ up outta nowhere, actin’ like the boss!”
“Tsubaki, you should really introduce your kouhai, eh? Look at how confused the poor boys are.”
Tsubaki hesitates a moment as though there was a way to avoid the matter before finally gritting out, “This guy’s from my generation. He’s a former Furin student. Yamato Endo”
“Th-the former Furin student-” the princess stutters from behind his protectors.
“Endo” Eyepatch finishes in a shocked tone that indicates his reputation still proceeds him.
“Wuh? What’s with you two?” Sakura asks, annoyed.
“I know him too; he’s famous.” Eyepatch offers.
“There’s no one in Furin who doesn’t know him. He’s like a legend” the princess squeaks out, literally trembling. God, thinks Endo, who thought it was appropriate to bring an NPC like him to a street brawl?
Sakura merely pivots to study him. Endo grins.
“Heh heh. Aww, you’re all making me blush. I’ve only been gone a year.” he offers in false modesty mocking the terrified reverence of the puppy’s introduction and finally, finally, Sakura reaches his limit to Endo’s immense delight.
“What. What Legend?”
“Hmm?” Endo offers, soaking in the incandescence of the younger man’s rage.
“Sakura. Stop!” Tsubaki tries, but it’s too late to rein his flaring temper in.
“Who cares what kinda legend you are? You left the actual work of capturing an innocent girl to someone else. You’re just a trashy, irresponsible asshole!”
The street goes silent; a dangerous animosity curls through the air heavy like fog, so thick it registers as taste in the back of your mouth like when you inhale the smoke of a forest fire. Endo hasn’t felt this alive in months. The fight he craves so close he can almost feel the blows against his skin.
“A trashy, irresponsible asshole huh? Hey, you can’t say that. Aren’t you Furin kids the heroes of the streets? Don’t go using dirty words like that. But, hey, I just realised, you must be Sakura. That hair and those eyes. You were there with that group that raided Keel huh?” he throws out casually like it wasn’t lighting the fuse to a bomb. “I saw everything. I saw you rush ahead on your own. And saw how distracted you were while you tried to fend them off with that poor excuse of a fight. That was when I realised, Sakura, a guy like you doesn’t belong in Furin. You should give up and leave.” His words hang in the air a moment before detonating across Sakura’s shocked face. He’s ready now. This will be his moment. Then…
“Th-that’s not true at all,” a voice suddenly shouts, and Endo is frankly a little stunned to see it’s that trembling kid who’s been hiding behind his friends pretty much the whole night, of all possible people, standing there, literally shaking in his boots while glaring like an incensed kindergartener. “Y-you don’t know anything about Sakura-san. Don’t go mouthing off about things you don’t understand.”
Endo just looks at him flatly for a moment, while his brain tries to stumble past the thought, well, this really is unexpected, before turning ever so slightly his direction to give the outburst the honour of his attention. “That’s adorable. Trying to be tough? Your shaking voice is betraying you.”
He sees a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye and slides neatly out of the way just in time to avoid the flying kick Tsubaki’s aimed at him. He tsks at the interruption. “What’s with the sudden animosity?”
“Take that back!”, an irate Tsubaki shouts.
“Huuh, I was just..” and suddenly he’s dodging attacks from Nakamura and Eyepatch.
Endo sighs.Why does everyone keep interrupting his fucking fight with Sakura? It’s truly getting annoying. It seems Sakura feels the same annoyance, because he, too, runs headlong at Endo shouting, ‘Don’t leave me out of this!”, and aiming a kick that would have been the only one to land tonight if Endo hadn’t blocked his foot at the last second. The force of the blow still sends their bodies skidding back along the pavement, as his braced position disperses its energy, and Endo is giddy with the untapped violent potential in his chosen battle partner.
“For cripe’s sake, let me finish! I’m not trying to badmouth him. It’s quite the opposite, I’m praising him. I just think he’s wasting his talents.” He offers, the other boys foot still blocked against his palms. Confusion erupts over the faces of the gathered crowd. “You’re being shackled down by others. You’re a lot stronger than that, I know it. A guy like you is better suited to being alone.” he continues. He can see the strength of his argument play across the faces of those assembled, dawning especially in the eyes of the other first years who surely know better than anyone how special, how strong their classmate is. He senses that his words have left Sakura more off balance than the awkward position of the blocked kick. He isn’t surprised his two friends aren’t the ones attempting to rebut him, but he is caught a little flat-footed that instead of Tsubaki, it’s Sakura himself who answers.
“You don’t know anything! All you do is spout crap and act like you know me. Talk is cheap, but only I can decide where the hell I belong.” If the faces of the others register anything at this outburst, and he’s sure they do, he wouldn’t have known it because all Endo can see right now is Sakura or rather, the edges of his aura burning clearly like a fire, the same way Takiishi’s do, but with some subtle difference to the shape of the flames that he can’t quite distinguish. And he knows once again that particular self-destructive desire to touch something beautiful made of fire, welcoming the pain as the cost of being marked by its touch forever. He’s suddenly hungry to feel the first burns upon his skin, even if that wasn’t supposed to be a part of tonight’s plans.
“Hah. Not bad at all. You know, I didn’t come here to do this, but, hey… I can play with you boys for a bit.” he says cracking his knuckles and trying to hide his excitement to test Sakura’s will beneath a lazy smile, a casual cockiness designed to further enrage his intended target, while still seeming more dangerous than eager. He can see it’s worked and grins all the wider. Finally he can taste the fight he craves on the air when, yet a-fucking-gain, another asshole seems determined to ruin his efforts.
This time, it’s the loser group leader with his stupid haircut, whose existence he’s practically forgotten. And this time, even Sakura is sick of being interrupted from their promised exchange of fists. “Hey! This has nothing to do with you!” Sakura shouts at the guy.
“He’s right. I don’t give a crap about you anymore.” Endo throws to the figure of the boy striding out of the background crowd toward him. The boy keeps advancing, insisting it’s about him and his responsibility, because of course he does. Why can these idiots not take a hint? Why does the universe seem intent on flight-blocking him? Why are the things he wants most always within his sight, but forever just out of reach?
Endo watches as the boy drops into full dogeza in front of him, and for a second he merely blinks as the voices of the boy’s appeals and the shouts from the crowd ring out around him; as the total absurdity of how completely off-the-rails his simple attempt to get to a little closer to understanding what is so captivating about the first guy to give him the kind of shivering anticipation in his chest that he’d felt the first time he laid eyes on Chika has gone. There is nothing left to do but laugh at it, and so he does. Because it’s that or cry in frustration, and Endo doesn’t cry. He throws his head back and howls with laughter in a way that he can’t quite keep from sounding slightly unhinged and desperate rather than menacing, but it still manages to alarm the gathered crowd.
“I’ve seen a few guys grovel before, but never with so much oomph,” he manages between the bubbles of laughter, trying to arrange his facial muscles into an appropriate sneer to communicate that his laughter is to do with something other than the hopeless irony of battling against the universe and his desire to get punched in the face by only one specific person right now. He does have a reputation to uphold here. “But hey, why’re you doing something so pathetic, huh? Begging like that?” He can see the others all ready to rush in; he could have his brawl now, but the moment has passed, ruined by this kid’s grovelling, more irony. They would let the fight proceed to protect this nobody, but it won’t be the fight he wants anymore. It won’t mean the same thing, not to him, and not to Sakura, though he doubts Sakura understands that, not consciously anyway. But he does, and that’s what matters. So, he puts an end to it, “Okay. Let’s just call this thing even then, huh? The old man who hired me has been doing some shady stuff anyway. I just need ‘ta threaten him a bit, and he’ll never mess with that girl again.”
“What’s your aim? What are you scheming?” Nakamura presses, not trusting this sudden change of mood.
“Hmm? Nothing really. But, if you’re looking for a reason, then, I’m just in a good mood! I guess!” he says, and in a way, he supposes that’s true enough. He may not be getting to actually give in to his urge to fight Sakura tonight, but he’s finally gotten to interact with him, and that has given him the thrill of knowing that what he’d only witnessed from a distance before wasn’t a fluke. This boy was truly as interesting and exciting and strong and captivating as he’d first thought. And, he can still enjoy the anticipation of them finally getting down to that first, true, proper exchange of blows.
“Right. You haven’t changed at all.” Tsubaki says, annoyed. “It’s impossible to figure out what you’re thinking.”
“Aww… I don’t even wanna fight no more after that big laugh. I’ll stop by Furin another time, and then we can play. See ya then.” he throws out, spinning around and ambling off down the street; a casual flip of the hand sending a mocking little wave trailing behind him.
Even though it’s true and his urge to fight now has drained away, he is still immensely satisfied to hear Sakura angrily shouting out after him, “What?! Screw you! You can’t leave yet!” followed by the sound of his pounding footsteps and his friends calling out after him, trying to thwart the other boy’s non-extinguished desire to fight. Endo thinks that at least he’s not the only one to have to put up with the frustration of this bunch’s commitment to fight-blocking. Endo figures he might as well get the last jab in, so he pauses to gather all the dangerous aura he can muster and turns to call over his shoulder at Sakura, “Didn’t I already say I’ll see you later? Ya little punk.”
“Sakura! Don’t go after him,” Tsubaki warns. Endo smiles because she’s just given him the perfect set-up to twist the knife into Sakura’s anger one last time.
“Ya hear that? You’d better listen to what your senpai says, kid. You’re just a first-year, after all.” his parting shot hits its mark, twisting Sakura’s mouth into a snarl of pure frustration that Endo etches fully to his memory as he once again turns and disappears down the street into the night, leaving only the remnants of his chaos in his wake.