#1 alliance.
a substitute plan concocted on the spur of the moment and a significant plot device at the same time.
disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke (c) Fujimaki Tadatoshi.
note that the Rakuzan third years are second years in this AU. everyone else stayed the same until stated otherwise.
and this would be more of a series of (related) oneshots than a multi-chaptered fic. not all chapters would be in order.
oh and I hope I do them any justice.
Escaping the ordinary was a concept Mayuzumi Chihiro was well-acquainted with. It appeared in various shapes and sizes on most titles he's been reading through the years. From the tropes that still have some touch with reality like starting a secret group or playing a special game, to the most improbable ones like having a magical girl fall from the sky or realizing you are a high-level ESP wanted by the opposition organization, he could name at least fifty different scenarios, from the rather clichéd to the never imagined before.
It was no longer a mere ideal as he read stories about becoming something more than just the useless otaku stereotype on the light novel fan message boards he frequented and he was tempted to take his a stab on it. His first (and most prominent) attempt was on his high school's basketball team, nicknamed Emperor of Creation, notable for participation in every Winter Cup ever held. He registered, followed the try-outs and the practices. But it was survival of the fittest in the top-tier team and he, a typical player with no special abilities, had no presence at all.
Even for a character more distinguished than Chihiro was, shining in this team and in this era would not be an easy job. These were the high school basketball seasons with the national level prodigies whose fame were closer to teenage celebrities than young athletes—Uncrowned Kings, Generation of Miracles and whatnot. Not that he felt inferior to them, but let's be practical; the court might not be a stage meant for him.
He should consider alternatives, he thought, and not waste more time dwelling on a plan that was almost certain to be futile. His precious high school time is ticking, a little more than a year remaining, or a little less if he counted out the months that would be spent on learning for university entrance exams. So one day, once he found something else to pursue, he said it:
"Higuchi, I would like to quit the basketball team," he asked his classmate-slash-team manager on the day a first-year, one of those Miracles that picked their school, was proclaimed their new captain.
"What was this about?" the black-haired second year asked back, "Are you not able to cope with the fact that we're under a mere freshman now, despite having three of the Uncrowned Kings in our year?"
Chihiro must be a hypocrite if he said this didn't hurt his pride as an upperclassman at all. Despite not the most social person, he was really concerned with the age-based hierarchy and would not fancy a junior dropping the honorifics. But it was not relevant to the exact reason he wanted to quit, so he just told Higuchi, "I don't even care who the captain is,"—as long as he was useful for his goal ('for victory'; stolen from the brat captain's bizarre vocabulary).
Because he proved he was yet unable to succeed here by himself, he might as well wait for someone in the team to detect rare, raw powers buried inside him and promote him to the first-string as Mayuzumi, the once-in-a-thousand-years sought-after dark horse of Rakuzan. But maybe he would have released a fifty-volume light novel series about alien younger sisters in a major publishing house (and enjoyed the huge royalty from various media adaptations and official merchandises) before the wait is over.
"Alright, if you're persisting on it, hand your resignation letter as soon as possible," Higuchi said, "But remember that you also need both the coach and the captain's approval to resign."
And Chihiro swore if the best part of growing up is access to purchase items rated R18 without asking an older friend to buy them for you, the worst is all those formal administrations he must deal with by himself. Why can't adults and officials just accept 'I want to be there' or 'I had enough of this shit' as a legit motivation to enter or exit some organization and not tell him to prepare a thousand documents which probably would not ever be touched, much less be read?
The closest to a decent reason he has was character development, and he was sure people don't quit basketball teams for that, even if they're in the last string.
And of course they did not walk by themselves to the Student Council room, to request the form needed to apply as a school president candidate, for that alone.
But who was he to compare with people?
"Chihiro."
He was just going to knock the door when someone called him only with his first name, without anything attached behind it. He did not know the voice well, so he looked back at the person: neat cropped red hair, mismatched eyes that reminded him of fantastic fictional figures in stories he immersed himself in, an expression that was a statement of absoluteness and confidence, but a build smaller than he was. Akashi, that monster rookie they said, Chihiro made a mental note for himself. In normal circumstances, he would rant about the importance of calling him Mayuzumi-senpai, but he somehow could not imagine that kid doing so to him—not without dangerous consequences (either for him or for the first-year, he could not decide).
"What?" Chihiro disliked interventions, not caring even if it was the emperor—as in the actual emperor of the country and not the nicknamed emperor in front of him—who did it, so might as well get over with this quick.
"Are you going to run for the student council president?"
It annoyed him how on point Akashi was, but then there were only a few uses for this room for outsiders like them, especially at the end of their term of office.
"Yes," Chihiro gave a brief reply, not bothering to ask back, since if he were lucky enough to lead one of the school's most prized sport clubs on his first year, aiming for the top of the student body most likely would be his next step. Because for someone with no visible ambition in his school life, Chihiro believed that he should set high objectives for himself once he starts having any.
"I was going to debate the retiring president for not letting a first-year register for the position," Akashi talked, "Then I have another plan," giving Chihiro a glare that was supposed to be intimidating—but the senior didn't even realize where the other's sight was, much less experiencing the effect, "How about I form a coalition with you?"
And if anyone wished to take the exact post Chihiro wanted, they definitely would not ask for alliance in any way—except if Akashi spoke another language, in which the words he used had meanings different to what Chihiro perceived.
"Are you serious with it?"
Chihiro never had been so relieved he could release nothing out of his mouth but a monotone that gave people an impression that he was never interested. Or the triumphant feeling that was brought by the prospect of an over-the-top individual willing to be his underling would be painfully obvious to others, since it left such a strong aftermath he could construct an ironic analogy of it as the scene a potential heroine made her abrupt entrance in the story, complete with her outrageous level of skills—only this time it was not a girl and the protagonist wasn't even sure if he would like it better if it was a girl or not.
Oh, and from what he had observed, he concluded that Akashi looked like he hadn't seen people who reacted that way towards him for a while, not even once since entering Rakuzan.
"Are you still questioning me, Chihiro? If you were serious with this, you would collaborate with me. Victory would be guaranteed. Or are you still hesitating and would like to talk over the terms of this cooperation first?" he asserted, as he turned back to the corridor.
"Maji Burger," Chihiro mentioned the name of a chain hamburger restaurant that had just opened a branch not far from their school. Maybe Akashi hadn't seen people who asked him to eat fast food with them for a while either. "Now or when?" Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year? Once he's already in university? Once A Clockwork Honey, Apple and Little Sister is finished? Please.
"It's still the first day of obtaining the registration form, so you would have more than enough time to think it over again if we started by now," the first-year said, "Although I already knew you would accept at the end."
"How considerate," Chihiro could no longer restrain himself from being sarcastic (or, it's more like he didn't even know why he could for the last few minutes) as he rushed further down the hallway and outside the school building, with Akashi following suit, without any notable dialogues between them. One did not want to know unnecessary information from the other, which, in all likelihood, could have figured out anything by himself (from the fact that the sophomore hadn't even contemplated who he would choose as a vice-president yet, to the reason of picking such place as their meeting point), so it was a given.
They arrived in the burger joint. It was packed with students (from Rakuzan and other nearby institutions), young adults and families—which mostly were in for the economical meal deals or the curiosity piqued by a new establishment. Chihiro could not say whether he was also like that or not. But, at least for himself alone, Akashi gave off a vibe that he was out of place, yet he was able to adapt with the surroundings either, as red and gold eyes scrutinized the menu board from the far end of the queue they lined up at. And if he had failed to do so, this whole set-up was going to double as the point of introducing a very common place in Chihiro's very common world to this important character, so he could fit in with this society.
"Do you prefer ordering or searching for a seat?" Akashi took out his wallet as he gave the elder options.
"Search for the seat," Chihiro hummed, though with a scan around all the visible sides of the restaurant he could deduce already that it would be a tough job, but he needed fresh air—and not from going outdoors, but from being alone for a while to sort out his mind since this demon spawn might have played mind games on him, and most likely was anticipating to do even more over appointments and refreshments.
"What do you want to order?"
"That beef burger with coke and fries package," with a 500 yen out of his suit pants' pocket, "Return the change, if there is any," with a sigh, relieved that this one understood how to eat out and was already in front of the line, saying, "I would like to order two portions of Maji Set 1, please," to the cashier in formal and grammatically correct Japanese (in contrast to the still structured, but sort of rude and casual pattern of speech he got instead).
And Chihiro disappeared into the rows of tables and chairs, observing every occupied one so if he did not get any yet, he could at least decide which one he would target based on who were there and how close were them from finishing.
There were some he would leave alone, like a pair of senior citizens savoring their food with three little children running around them, a group of girls with obnoxious make-up and outfits chattering as they stare more at their respective decorated cell phones than their burgers or milkshakes. For most he would just pass by while reminding himself to come back and check again later, because they were still in the middle of eating or talking or doing anything else but they seem like they can get out any time, for better or worse. As he walked closer to the corner, he was able to found a chair sat on by a woman in blazers wiping her mouth with a tissue—which mean she would leave soon—but a couple wearing his middle school's winter uniforms were already there before him, and he must watch them take that place.
And when Chihiro ended up in a corner, there was a two-seat table with Akashi in one side, emptiness in another and their orders in the middle.
"Chihiro, you said you were going to search for the seat," those were words tinged with evident disappointment in its complete calmness, "Should we cancel our discussion? I'll call the waiter and here's your change," if throwing a few coins to Chihiro's hands with such swiftness and suggesting him to fuck off could be done in such serene manner. And those were not the most irritating part; it was the sense of incapability creeping inside him which made him almost surrender like anyone else when they were faced with this, with the keyword being almost.
"We hadn't started yet," he remarked, returning the change to the tray.
"I do not tolerate failure, however small it is," Akashi cut his words, without any signs that he was listening to the sorry excuse of a future school president or acknowledging the simple facts that people make mistakes and small mishaps don't always cancel their big accomplishments.
Chihiro feinted ignorance and begun chewing on the juicy hamburger. Akashi was unfazed as he grabbed his soft drink and opened the discussion, "You should be grateful that I still put up with you. So, what made you want to be our school president?"
And now was time for Chihiro to consult his extensive knowledge on the situations of making great decisions on life, with his readings as his main source of reference and butchered citations as his interview answers.
"'To improve our school' would be too generic," he stated in between bites, "I'd say 'to make this school a place more comfortable for all students'," since he thought nothing was in desperate need to be fixed in Rakuzan, but was not very comfortable with it either.
"So, at least I don't have to create a purpose for you to follow, but how would you realize that?" Akashi inquired before he took a sip.
Chihiro reflected on the issues addressed in recent fiction and reality, and picked one he could kind of point out here, "Promoting tolerance for students which are somehow in the social minority."
"Like scholarship-funded students, students with disabilities, or students of foreign heritage?"
"And students who are judged for their preferences."
"Can you elaborate preferences? There are some I would not like to stand for, such as preferences to flunk your own grades or preference to forfeit against your opponents with your own free will," Akashi scoffed then started eating his burger.
Chihiro rolled his empty eyes as he found the idea impossible to manifest inside an actual human mind, then replied, "No, it's more like …what you like, what you do, what you want to be, instead of what is the standard, as long it's not what's holding them down."
"Even if it's what's holding them down, they must still thrive."
"Will being, say, a gay, a transgender, a party animal or an otaku make people fail just because the things they choose to become? And not because the criticism or the things they would still mess up if they are ...normal?"
Chihiro felt like he would throw the newly finished burger up, for the human nature disgusted him like that. They glorified the few unique individuals who were able to utilize their distinctive traits and persecuted the rest. But then, if he did, he would certainly end up without any deputy and cancelled his whole big plan.
"Okay, not bad. As for your non-academic activities, you're only in the basketball club and nothing else?"
"Yes," although I would be leaving soon, "Though I also have a part-time job. I mostly take weekend or late night shifts, so I think it won't interfere much."
"Which means you could conduct the Student Council affairs whenever?"
"Well, a school president could not just be absent in important events for he's too busy earning us a national champion title, could he?" And that was the point in which Chihiro was better than Akashi, at least in his own mind.
"Chihiro, what is Rakuzan's motto?"
Pop quiz time, good thing the second-year acquired the ability to remember random words he deemed less significant from too much reading. He uttered, "Accomplishment in both letters and arms. Excel at both studies and sports."
"Correct. You understand the importance?"
Chihiro nodded.
Akashi continued eating before taking a break to say, "So it would not matter whether I'm there or not, I have my own justified reason. But your presence, or lack thereof, does matter. However, if I ever impose my opinions on you, would it be acceptable?"
Chihiro was conflicted. He never had much of them himself, but despised the idea of being someone's sockpuppet either, even if it was almost certain that he would. But he decided, "As long as it doesn't not go against my own," would be a fairly neutral answer.
"Anything else you would like to add by now? If not, have we reached an agreement?"
"I believe we have."
When, the biggest truth was, Chihiro just want to get out and go home before he was thoroughly brainwashed.
"When will we retrieve those registration forms?"
"Tomorrow, maybe?"
And the senior left with his quarter-filled soda and changes retaken, as he gave no care what would the junior react to his rudeness. Who started to be rude first, anyway? That soon-to-be-absolute-vice-president of their school's student council.
(Yet Chihiro still agreed, because he was not that stupid to miss such an opportunity to become the extraordinary.)
Omake:
The less important truth was, Chihiro would like to share the story with his internet friends.
So the first thing he did after he reached his home was to turn on his computer and open that goddamn thread, and reply:
"I dealt with a devil(ish kind of person) so I can be the school president.
Wish me luck."
And press send.