notes: First and foremost, I want to thank Dicey for being a stellar friend and helping me every step of the way, even though she hasn't ever seen or read Soul Eater. You've been a great help doll, and I owe you big time (which I'm more than sure you will come to collect one of these days, dammit). I had originally wanted this to be more Gang!AU than Sons of Anarchy!AU, but hey, things don't always work out.
I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
got a boy in the war
chapter one
"Uh...yeah, I am smoking, but does this look like school property? Maka, take your judginess and fuck yourself with it."
Black Star takes another hit and eyes his blonde friend in front of him, enjoying the way her face reddens and she opens her mouth to say something else. Only, there isn't anything else to say. He's at the Pizza Pizza outside their school and this is not really illegal. Well. It is, but there aren't any cops to smack the joint out of his hands right now, so.
"You know, Black Star, one day you're gonna regret all these stupid decisions you make," Maka snaps, spinning on her heel and marching back toward school. The bell is ringing, signaling the end of lunch, and he hopes the door is locked by the time she gets back there. He hopes she's late.
"Take notes for me, Maka!" He shouts, laughing when she turns back and gives him her most venomous glare, while simultaneously running into Soul as he makes his way out of the school. Black Star can't hear what goes on between them, but it looks pretty rough. Maka ignores Soul on good days, so he can't imagine what she's saying to him right now.
Whatever it is, it ends quickly enough when the bell rings one more time, signaling that Maka is going to be late to English. She darts up the steps, struggles with the locked door for a few seconds before someone comes and opens it, and gives the two of them one last menacing look before darting into the building.
Soul makes his way over slowly, running a hand through his thick, floppy hair. "Yo, pass that over here."
Black Star does so, leaning more comfortably against the wall. "What did tiny tits say to you?"
"Told me to convince you to come to class," Soul shrugs, taking a deep, long hit. Black Star knows the guy has a spare right now, but he can hardly function when he's a little high, so taking that big a hit probably isn't that great an idea. Not that Black Star cares, because he certainly fuckin' doesn't. "As if you would listen to me any more than you'd listen to her."
"Sure I would," Black Star argues lightly, knocking his head against the bricks behind him. Even though it's January, it's fuckin' warm. The kind of warm where with your sweater on you're kinda hot, but taking it off makes you too cold. It's pretty shitty. "Go ahead, tell me."
"Go to class, Black Star." It's punctuated with a cough.
"Sure," Black Star nods, pushing off the wall and starting toward the building. When he glances back, Soul looks a little freaked out. With a grin, Black Star waves his guidance slip above his head, "Got a meeting with the big cheese. Hey, don't forget about tonight."
Soul sneers at him, dropping the rest of the joint to the ground and stomping it out with his boot. "Yeah, who could? Your cousin has been texting me like crazy. Hey," he says as he gets closer, throwing an arm over Black Star's shoulder and tugging him close. "Tell her to back off a bit, I ain't into old pussy."
"Are you sure you're even into pussy, you fuckin' cocksucker," Black Star laughs, shoving him away. He doesn't mention that Morella being twenty-eight isn't old. Soul growls something back, pushing Black Star into the wall, then races up the stairs to get to the door before Black Star can retaliate. The doors are locked though, and there is a brief struggle at the door. By the time someone comes around-Kim Diehl, he thinks her name is-Black Star has Soul in a headlock.
"Uh," Kim looks torn between booting them down the steps or closing the door. "I'm not standing here all day. Hurry up."
Black Star shoves Soul and makes his way inside, thanking Kim with a grin and a wink, while Soul struggles in behind him. "You're such a fuckin' jerk," Soul grouses, rubbing his neck. "I'll see you later."
"Sure," Black Star waves over his shoulder, heading down the stairs to the guidance office.
Sid is looking really serious when Black Star makes his leisure entrance into the guy's office. "Sit. Down," is what he says, and a thick sense of foreboding settles heavily in Black Star's gut. He hasn't talked to Sid since before Christmas break and he'd been pretty pissed off when looking at Black Star's marks then, so he can't imagine how his marks look after exams. Especially since he missed two out of the four.
Sid steeples his fingers under his chin. He looks pale for a black dude, almost unhealthily so, and if Black Star were a better person he might ask if something was wrong. Black Star knows he and Nygus have been trying for kids, so maybe that's what has him so drawn.
I should probably go easy on him, Black Star decides, sitting up straighter when Sid puts his hands back down. "So what's up?"
"Not your math mark."
Black Star's eyes widen comically, "What? And I worked so hard on it."
"Writing 'fuck this shit' on your exam and handing it in is not 'working hard', Black Star."
"Hey, are you supposed to be swearing at me? I could report you."
"Go ahead, idiot. I'd like to see what they say."
Grinning, Black Star gets more comfortable in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "So is that why you called me in here? To yell at me a bit, hope I'll start being a better student because you asked with all your heart?"
It's Sid's turn to grin, but it looks a little menacing, much like his dad's when he's got a particularly cruel plan in mind, and Black Star is reminded once more that Sid used to be White Star's right hand man, and that they probably learned that grin from each other. The idea is a pleasant one in Black Star's mind-his dad and his...well Sid, working together and gun running. It's an awesome thing to picture, and for the life of him, Black Star doesn't know why Sid would ever want to quit. But to each their own, right?
Black Star raises an eyebrow at Sid, if only to make him talk. The guy was always one for the dramatics.
"That wood shop class you've got. You like it?"
"...no," Black Star says because he knows saying yes will back him into a corner. He does actually like the class, if only because it gives his hands something to do for seventy-six minutes and there isn't any course work. "It's shit. I hate it."
"Good, then you won't mind taking math this semester again."
Black Star laughs a bit, watching Sid's reaction. Is he serious? If Black Star failed in first semester, what the fuck makes him think he'll pass in second? He asks the man this, and Sid's grin grows wider.
"I've got you a tutor. This is the last math credit you'll ever have to take, and next year you'll only have to retake English. And I'm trying to make sure your dumbass graduates along with the rest of your class. You think your dad will like you any better if you're a high school drop out? A failure? Think real long and hard about it, kid."
"Fuck you, you goddamn pencil pusher," Black Star snaps, but he is thinking about it, and he knows that his dad will be fuckin' pissed. That's why Black Star had hidden his report card from him, though that bitch Medusa had found it in his room somehow and threatened to show the old man, anyway.
"I'm just trying to better your future kid. It's just the kind of man I am."
"Yeah, well the kind of man you are fuckin' sucks. I don't need a tutor, and I'm not taking math. Who the fuck needs math anyway? Give me a class I can actually use when I'm older."
Sid sighs, dropping his head into his hands. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
Black Star is already up and out of his seat, shoving the chair back. "Yeah, sure. I'm outta here."
"No you're not," Sid lifts his head, leaning back in his chair. Despite himself, Black Star's hand pauses on the door handle. "Why did you come? I'm sure you knew I'd say something like this."
"Maybe I missed you," he sneers, turning to look at the man over his shoulder. Something flashes across Sid's face, but it's gone before Black Star can identify it. "Or maybe I was hoping to have a valid reason to be out of class."
Sid looks worn and a lot older than he has in a long time, and he nods to the chair Black Star had previously vacated. "Sit down, kid; let's talk."
His grip on the door handle tightens slightly before he releases it with a groan, dropping back into the seat. "Talk about what?"
"Your tutor? Where to find her? When to find her? I can think of several other things, and you said you wanted an excuse to be out of class."
"Sorry, I'm stuck on the 'her' part. She's a chick? If it's Maka, I'm gonna fuckin' punch her-"
"It's not Maka and you won't punch her. And if you do anyway, I'll break your hand, you brat. Also, watch your mouth."
Black Star does not pout, but it's a close thing. He also does not that say she would break his hand and probably every other bone in his body. Instead of saying anything else at all, he examines the room and the guy who has his name on a plaque on the door. Sid doesn't look like a guidance counselor, doesn't even look like he should be near a school. He's got the kind of aura that gives off bad vibes if you don't know him, the kind that used to get him into a lot of trouble in school, Black Star's heard (well, that and the copious amounts of pot he smoked and how much he skipped classes), but he's actually a really cool guy. Usually. Well, he sometimes let's Black Star stay the night when things get rough at home, and that makes him pretty good in his book. It also pisses his dad off how close the two of them are, so it's a plus.
There is evidence of Black Star in the room-just a picture of a little brunette boy sitting on Sid's shoulders, Nygus standing beside them and shooting a peace sign. Most people wouldn't even know it was Black Star, and still more don't. He doesn't look the same; his hair is a vibrant blue that Morella dyes every month, and his grin is a little more crooked, but Black Star has his own version of the picture in his wallet.
"How are things at home?" Sid asks carefully, mimicking Black Star's position. He very carefully does not look away from Sid's eyes, because doing so would dig him into a deeper hole.
"Awesome."
The look Sid gives him is a mixture of thinly veiled annoyance and exhaustion. "You know if you ever need a place to stay..."
"Yes, yeah. Thanks. Now can we move on and get this over with? I'm getting a vomit-y feeling from all the sappy shit you keep spouting."
Sid glares at him, but straightens up all the same. He clicks around on his computer for a few long seconds before turning the monitor around and showing Black Star the time slot, room number, and name of his tutor. "You think you can remember this? Or do I need to print you one out?"
3:00 PM, Room 206, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. Tsubaki. Tsubaki? He's pretty sure he's heard that name before. Or at least her last name rings a bell, but he can't place her face. "She hot?"
"Now," Sid says sternly, leaning across the desk and meeting Black Star's gaze with a fierce glare. Black Star can hardly help how he snaps to attention under the commanding voice. "I know that you're not dumb, it's just that you lack effort, so she'll help you catch up, and you will catch up, Black Star."
"Says you," he quips, shrugging and looking at the wall, eyeing the picture frames and diplomas.
This is where Sid laughs; only it's bitter. "Says the school, actually. You don't shape up this semester, then you're out."
Black Star knows he's trapped. Getting kicked out is bad for several reasons, but the biggest one would be that his dad would kick his ass. When he and Soul had been officially initiated, they'd had to promise to keep up with their school work, if only to keep up pretenses. When Black Star said that was the lamest thing ever, he'd gotten a broken nose.
His fingers itch for his lighter, or his switchblade, and he feels very much like an idiot, although he knows that's not what Sid has intended. "Fine, yeah. I'll work on it."
"See that you do," Sid nods, waving his hand toward the door. "Now get to class."
Black Star only just refrains himself from shooting Sid the finger.
It's around 3:15 when he shows up at the tutor center, half an hour after school has ended. If Black Star's honest, they're lucky he even came, if only because Alison Connors had grabbed his belt buckle when they'd been making out ten minutes ago, and he's pretty sure she was down for more than a little grabbing. But, he also knew that Sid would only harass him more if he didn't go, and Alison would always be there another day. Probably. Even if she's not, there are tons of other girls who like hanging around them to get in close with some of the older guys in the gang, so it's not like he'd have a hard time getting it from someone else.
Smirking, Black Star looks around the room for his tutor. If she's anything like Maka, then he'll have a hard time charming the pants off of her enough that she'll let him skip, but if not he's got a pretty good chance. Girls are easy to persuade when you treat 'em nice. Unless they're Maka and they can see through your bullshit.
Seriously, sometimes Black Star wonders why he's friends with her.
"Are you...Blake?" A polite voice asks from his left. Black Star freezes for a second, because nobody calls him Blake, but he recovers quickly and turns to her, shifting the weight of his bag around on his shoulders. Fuckin' math text books.
"Yeah, and you're uh..." hot, he thinks, eyeing her up and down. Yeah, she's definitely not a friend of Maka's, because he would know her for sure. He doesn't think he's ever seen tits like that on a girl their age before, and those hips (Black Star might be a tits man, but he can appreciate a nice set of hips, and with ones like those, it's gotta say something about her ass). She's got a cute face too, which is weird considering her body is out of this world. Girls like this are like something out of one of his...better dreams, and Black Star figures Sid must be fucking kidding.
Or, really goddamn smart.
"Tsubaki," she answers for him, smiling slightly and holding out her hand. "I think we had geography together in ninth grade? Only, you didn't show up much." She smiles slightly, doing this little head-tilt that makes her neck look super long and super sexy. Goddamn Sid.
"Geography wasn't really my thing, and Ms. Mjolnir is about as exciting as watching paint dry, so." He shrugs, grabbing her hand and shaking it a few times, marvelling at how not soft they are and wondering where she built up those callouses and also wondering how they'd feel wrapped around his-
She's been talking, he realizes. She's also walking away from him toward a little table-booth thing and he remembers why he's actually here and the goal he's set for himself. He can pass math just fine, he just. Doesn't...want to? Gritting his teeth, he follows, nodding along when she asks him questions about what they talked about last semester, even though he doesn't really remember much. It was first period math; did they seriously think he would show?
"So did you bring your work?" She asks as she slides into a seat across from him, dropping her bag onto the chair beside her. She turns pretty blue eyes on him, eyeing him for a second before turning to his back pack. "We should start as quickly as we can, since you showed up late and we only have until 4:30."
Black Star stares at her for a moment longer than necessary, trying to determine if she's actually serious. When she blinks at him questioningly, he realizes she is. "Oh, see about that. I was hoping we could get this done by like, 3:30, because I've got shit to do."
"It's...3:27 right now. You showed up fifteen minutes late."
"Well isn't that a stinger. Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay cutie?" He gives her a quick grin and moves to get up, but Tsubaki leans forward and latches onto his arm with an iron tight grip.
"You can't leave yet," she looks serious and a little disbelieving, as if she really thought he was coming here out of his own volition. Ha, Black Star thinks, tugging his arm from her grip and shooting her a look, that's a good one.
"Pretty sure I can. Free country, right?"
She keeps her voice low but no less annoyed, "I-Mr. Barett asked me personally to tutor you! And this isn't a joke, Blake. You have to at least do something-"
"Let's get a few things straight, sweet pea," Black Star laughs, turning the chair around and sitting on it backwards, because that makes it way cooler. At least in movies, and when his dad does it. "First, you can call me Black Star, you can call me guy, but you cannot call me Blake. Second, just because you're a goody-two-shoes loser who told Sid you'd help me, doesn't mean I'm gonna stay here. I couldn't give a fuck less about this place if I tried, so you need to stop thinking that I want to be here, pronto. Third, don't tell anyone that I'm leaving."
Tsubaki looks shocked for a second, maybe even a little scared. After a few seconds of that, her face turns tomato-red and Black Star can practically feel the indignant vibes coming from her, and briefly entertains the thought of her yelling at him, because wouldn't that be a sight. She definitely wouldn't be the first nerd he'd get to lose their temper.
But her face relaxes almost immediately, and it's like she's put on a mask. There isn't any annoyance, not a trace of the indignation from before. Just a cool and collected chick. Not even the same one who greeted him at the door, and isn't that fuckin' weird?
"I'll see you tomorrow, then." She murmurs, reaching for her notebooks and opening them. Black Star watches her, eyes narrowing at the way she just...stopped being mad. "Try to be on time, too, please."
Black Star watches her a little longer before shrugging and turning away, anxious to get to the club house.
He gets to the club at ten after four and is immediately bombarded by Katsuya, who speaks rapid Japanese in his face like he should understand it. His dad had taught him how to speak it, but he can barely understand Katsuya on a good day, let alone when she speaks at the speed of light. She looks happy to see him, though, so he figures he's not in shit.
She curls an arm around his shoulder and walks him over toward the bar, shooting the bird to her old man, which he replies with a look that makes Black Star feel very uncomfortable, if only because Katsuya is like an older sister to him. Daichi looks at her like she hangs the goddamn moon. But then, that's them. If he was looking for a couple that could hardly stand the sight of each other, he'd go and find his dad.
"Do you even listen to me, Black-chan?" She asks, pinching his cheek as she shoves him toward a bar stool beside Naomi, who looks way too fucked up for four o'clock in the afternoon. He realizes almost too late that Katsuya has called him -chan again, but he snaps at her for it anyway.
"I'm not a fuckin' girl!" He growls at her, taking the beer she slides across the bar happily. When she opens her mouth to reply, he cuts her off quickly. "I don't give a fuck if you used to dress me up like one when you babysat!"
"You should," Katsuya pouts, while Daichi smacks him on the back of his head, muttering about minding his manners when talking to ladies. "Naomi, are you doing okay?"
Black Star chances a glance at the girl beside him, wincing when he realizes she looks like she's gonna pass out, probably right on top of him. "Like, who the fuck lets her do this?"
"Her dumbass boyfriend, that's who. How was school today, kid?" His older cousin Kenji asks as he slips around his daughter behind the bar, obviously looking for something.
Black Star shrugs, reaching for a tooth pick. "Educational."
There are several snorts throughout the room, including Black Star himself, and he finally allows himself to relax. The familiar sounds of the bar fill his ears; Grey Star and his wife arguing in the background, a few of the Star eaters gossiping at one table, while two prospects make their way around the room, cleaning it before the bar opens later that night. Katsuya is speaking in Japanese again with Daichi, so Black Star turns to his cousin, taking a swig of his beer. "When's the meeting supposed to start?"
Kenji looks wary for a second, but clears his throat and tosses a look back at the doors separating them from White Star. "When he's off the phone with Minako."
As if on cue, there is a loud yell, some more Japanese that is not Katsuya, and in the silence that echoes through the bar room, Black Star can just hear Medusa in the other room, probably trying to soothe his dad.
Kenji sighs and shakes his head, running a hand through his waning hair. Black Star catches the look Katsuya tosses her father. When Black Star looks at him-really looks he can see that Kenji is looking older and more worn than he had in a long time. Seems to be a running theme in this town, Black Star thinks bitterly.
Cousin Minako seems to be the problem. She runs another charter over in Japan, and from the stories he's heard of his cousin, she does it almost better than his dad. Minako is the one they get the guns from, and without her they'd have to find someone else. She's cunning and brilliant and apparently brutal as hell (he heard from Daichi once that she castrated a guy for trying to rape one of her girls), and if she's bad, her daughters are worse. If the Yakuza weren't running things in the Japanese underworld, then he bets Minako and her girls would be, because nobody gets shit done better than her.
But she was also a slippery bitch who played a lotta games with his dad's head. She had it in her head that since she was in Japan, their home, she was the leader, the founder, which Uncle Kenji said was wrong. His dad started the gang when he was twenty, and it was only when he met Minako again at twenty-six that she started up the Japan charter. But Kenji said she was like that-a little bit crazy and real power hungry.
He figures that's what's going on in the back room, making his dad so angry. Minako's been pitching a fit lately about how getting the guns to Death City was getting more and more difficult and Black Star didn't blame her. Not only did they have the cops watching their every move lately, but Arachnophobia was always around the corner, waiting and watching. Arachne was almost as bad as his cousin.
Black Star finishes his beer just as Soul comes into the club, looking annoyed and-is that a split lip? That's definitely a split lip. Grinning, Black Star lifts a hand in a wave. Did Soul get it from a girl? A guy? His mom? The possibilities are endless, and he can't wait to rub it in his face.
Soul makes his way over slowly, hands shoved into his pockets. He nods at some of the older guys, grins at Morella, who is busy doing the books, and finally comes to stand before Black Star. "Yo."
"Hey," Black Star's grin grows wider now that he sees a bit of bruising around Soul's mouth. God he bets it hurt. Black Star can get hit virtually anywhere, but his dick and his mouth are the most sensitive places for damn sure. "Get into a fight?"
Naomi had vacated her seat at some point and dragged her sorry ass off somewhere-a quick glance around the room shows that Mike is nowhere to be found, so she's probably with him-and Soul slides into her seat with little effort, glancing at Katsuya. She smiles sympathetically and says, "Now, what did you do to deserve that?"
"Nothing," Soul grumbles, accepting the beer from her with a nod of thanks. "It's what this idiot did." With a jerk of his thumb, he points at Black Star, who raises his eyebrows.
"The fuck? How's you getting socked in the mouth my fault?"
"Dunno," Soul shrugs, hunching over his drink and glaring at him with unnerving red eyes. "Call Maka later and find out. She seemed pretty pissed."
"Still? Jesus, that girl is not worth this much trouble, I fuckin' swear."
Katsuya laughs, leaning forward and playing with a straw. Beside Black Star, Daichi lets out a chuckle. He very much feels like they are laughing about something he doesn't know, so he glares at the both of them. "What?
Reaching forward to flick Black Star on the forehead, Katsuya moves away and around the bar, coming out the other end. "Nothing, you're just funny. I remember little Maka-chan running around here and beating you up all the time."
Black Star shots her the finger as she drops off a drink at Morella's side and then leaves the room, but before he can complain to Daichi about handling his old lady better, the guy is sliding off his own stool and heading toward the back room, where his father has opened the door.
He takes a breath before following.
As each guy gives his report, Black Star watches his dad get more and more pissed. His hair looks greyer these days than its usual white, and Black Star wonders just how much of Arachnophobia has caused this. Behind his dad, Medusa tightens her fingers on his shoulders, painted nails digging into his leather jacket. Black Star just holds himself back from glaring at her.
"Who was doing this? Giriko?" His dad asks, snapping Black Star's attention back to the table. Mike, who sits across from him, nods. His hair looks tousled and there is a huge hickey on his neck, but Mike still looks put together and has his stupid better-than-you vibes rolling off him in waves. Pretentious asshole.
"Yeah, the prick was waiting outside Chupa's for me."
"He try and fight you?"
"Nah, just told me to stop selling guns on their turf. As if Chupa's is their turf."
White Star grunts, linking his fingers together and resting his chin on them. It reminds Black Star of Sid, and he quickly squashes the urge to say anything dumb. Beside him, Soul is tapping his fingers quietly against the arm of his chair, and it distracts Black Star enough that he doesn't hear his father the first time he addresses him. "Huh? Sorry, uh. What?"
Glaring, White Star repeats his question. "Were there any problems with you or Eater this week?"
Black Star quickly goes through the last week in his head, trying to remember if there was anything weird or out of the ordinary that happened. He had seen Giriko, but it was only because the guy was getting milk from the store, which. Well it was weird, but mostly because Black Star had thought the only thing Giriko drank was his liver away. Ha. "Nope, nothing. Right Soul?"
"Nothing," his friend agrees, meeting White Star's eyes. Black Star has no idea how he can do that, because his dad scares the fuck out of everyone and meeting his eyes is like meeting a wolf's. Stupid and dangerous.
Unfortunately for him and fortunately for Soul, his dad likes him. Or at least he tolerates him more than he does Black Star, which is crap because Black Star is his blood.
"Well watch out, I suppose. Mike, try and keep things civil. The last thing we need is the cops hanging around even more. Or finding a reason to charge you."
Mike nods, and the White Star lets out a loud sigh, dropping his hands and sitting back in his chair, spine straight. "Now, I'm sure you all heard my phone call with Minako?" It is posed as a question, but isn't one really. Black Star's surprised they didn't hear the conversation in Vegas.
"Well the new shipment will be a bit late. Minako's girl Junko ran into some trouble at the harbour last night, so they need to regroup and figure some things out. In the meantime, make sure our buyers know what's up."
"The guys in Vegas aren't gonna be too impressed," Kenji mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. Beside him, Daichi looks tense, and on his other side, White Star frowns.
"After the shit they pulled last year, they're lucky we're still dealing with them. Just make sure they know it's your sister who's fucking up this operation." The worlds are punctuated with a glare, and Black Star feels marginally bad for his cousin. Still, Kenji nods and soon the meeting is adjourned.
Black Star is getting up to leave when his father clears his throat and tells him to stay. Soul shoots him a look, eyebrows drawn together, but Black Star shrugs.
Sitting back down, Black Star leans back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs. "What's up?" He asks when the doors close. Medusa slides smoothly into the seat across from him, looking far too smug for her own good. He almost doesn't want to look at his dad, but when the guy comes and rests a hand on the back of his chair, Black Star can't help himself. He glances up at him, eyebrow quirked. "Okay, what did I do?"
White Star has him by the back of his neck faster than he can think, squeezing and pushing him forward. "I heard a funny story today. A little bird told Medusa here that you were in Sid's office for a while today. Would you like to tell your old man what the fuck that's all about?"
He resists the urge to snarl, but only just. It had to have been fucking Crona who ratted on him, since the piece of shit is always in the guidance office. He should have known better than to go to that meeting, dammit. With a sigh, he grits out, "It wasn't anything; Sid wanted to know how I did on my exams."
"And how did you do on those exams?"
"Aced 'em," he says without hesitation, but the hand on his neck only tightens.
Black Star can just see the bottom of Medusa's face when he looks up. She's smirking something awful, and he realizes what the bitch must have fucking done. She showed him the report card. "I gave you a chance, Black Star," she says wistfully, fingernails digging into the wood of the table. "You had to tell your dad or I would. And now look where you've gotten yourself."
"Pretty stupid of you," White Star agrees from above, releasing Black Star. "So what did Sid tell you? They're kicking you out?"
Glaring at the table, almost wishing he could burn a hole in it, Black Star shrugs. "Tutoring."
Medusa snorts, and White Star outright laughs, one of those full belly ones that the funny babies on YouTube do. Only this isn't funny or cute, it's menacing as hell and Black Star braces himself for the hit, though he has to be honest: sometimes he never really braces himself enough.
He knows his nose isn't broken, but the force of his face hitting the table is enough to make it bleed, and the grip White Star has on his hair hurts like a bitch. Black Star has no idea how girls can fight by pulling hair.
Despite himself, Black Star shivers when White Star whispers, "You'd better have that mark up by June, kid. Or you're fucked."
For the life of him, Black Star will never understand why his dad is so obsessed with his grades. It's not like he finished high school with flying colours. A part of Black Star sometimes thinks that maybe it's the parental part of his dad coming to light; wanting him to do better because he knows he can be better. He knows it's outrageous to think, but Black Star refuses to believe anything else.
His dad must have wanted an answer, because he shakes Black Star's head once, hard enough that it feels like maybe his brain was knocked loose in there and is rattling around. "Do I make myself clear!?"
"Yes, sir." Black Star answers gruffly, shifting his gaze to Medusa when his dad lets him go. Black Star tastes copper on his tongue, and he glares at Medusa. "I'll make it happen."
"Good," Medusa smiles, eyes sharp and condescending. She reaches across the table and grabs his hand, digging her fingernails into his skin. "We just want the best for you, after all."
It's close to midnight by the time Black Star gets around to calling Maka, which he hopes pisses her off. How dare she punch Soul in the face without a valid reason?
"Hello?"
"Why'd ya punch our boy Soul?"
"Your boy Soul, not mine. And because he has a stupid look on his face all the time and because you're an idiot and I wanted the message to be passed along for sure."
"So you punched Soul?" Black Star shuffles around in his bedside table, looking for his lighter, but can't find one. How the fuck does he not have a lighter on hand whenever he needs one, seriously. "Which was a good hit, considering the bruising and the split lip. Props."
On the other end, Maka huffs. "I know, thank you. And yes, I knew he'd tell you to call me if I hit him. Now, do you want to tell me why you were a huge jerkoff to Tsubaki today?"
"Who?" Black Star asks, leaning off the edge of his bed to reach his bag. He spots the math textbooks and, oh, right, "Oh, the hot one with the great tits. What about her?"
"You were a huge jerk to her!"
Something clicks, and Black Star snaps, "Wait? How the fuck do you know? Also, no I wasn't. I was nice enough."
"We're friends, you moron!"
"No," Black Star shakes his head, not finding his lighter. He scowls at his room as a whole and lies back on his bed, cradling the phone to his ear. "No fucking way. Wouldn't I know? I would know."
"The only time we hang out or talk is when I'm yelling at you for something!"
"Really? Huh," Black Star makes a face at his ceiling. "So what about Tsunami?"
"Tsubaki," Maka growls into the phone. With a roll of his eyes, Black Star grunts at her to continue. "And you were a jerk. She could have gotten into a lot of trouble by letting you leave!"
"Whoops." Black Star yawns, rolling over and wishing for a lighter or his laptop charger or Wi-Fi or something. A good session or maybe jerking off would put him to sleep real easy. "Well you are just in luck; because I'm actually gonna go tomorrow."
"...you are?"
"Yup. Boss' orders."
There must be something in his voice that gives him away, because Maka asks in a very small voice, "is everything alright?"
Grunting, Black Star rubs at his sore nose and reaches over to turn off the lamp. "S'all good. Hey, listen I gotta go. Catch ya later."
Maka sighs, sounding defeated. "Yeah, okay. Bye, Black Star."
He ends the call and closes his eyes.
"Hi," Black Star says, dropping his bag to the ground and slipping into a chair across from Tsubaki, who looks up sharply, eyes widening when she realizes it's him sitting across from her. Black Star wonders if maybe he should be offended, but then decides probably not. "So where are we starting today?"
Tsubaki looks at him skeptically for a few seconds before reaching out across the table, hand open. "Can I take a look at your textbook? I can figure it out from there and then we can start."
Black Star stares at her for a second before reaching into his bag and reaching for his math textbook, handing it to her with a grin.
She smiles back at him
"So you're telling me you've never been to one of the Thompson's parties?" Black Star asks sceptically, leaning forward into her personal space. He likes getting her flustered when he does this, if only because it's funny to watch her struggle.
Tsubaki shrugs, leaning away and pushing her bangs away from her face. "That's right. I mean, I've heard about them but I've never gone." Giving him a pointed look when he starts flicking his lighter on and off, she turns back to his work. "Now, you're issue here is—"
"You wanna go this weekend? I could get you an invite."
Pursing her lips, Tsubaki glances up at him from beneath her fringe. He holds his lighter tight in his hand, matching her gaze with one of his own. This chick is too damn hot to sit at home on weekends. Or worse, hang out with Maka (who he knows has been to the Thompson's infamous parties and has enjoyed herself). Black Star is just looking out for Tsubaki, for the good of the people and the world. Looks like that? It's a damn crime, her hiding away. A damn crime.
She lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair, swiveling around on it. "I don't really want an invitation, to be honest with you."
Black Star can't help but laugh at that. She doesn't want an invitation? What the hell? He has no idea who wouldn't wanna go to one of those parties. Hell, even some of the gang go to the fuckin' things. Tsubaki must be hiding something, because not only had she denied an invitation, but she denied going with him, although maybe he hadn't made that as clear as he should have. "I mean that we could go together. Me and you?"
"So you could ditch me once we get there?" Despite the blush on her face, she gives him a firm look and points to the math textbook. "No thanks. Now tell me how you did this question."
Black Star sticks his tongue out petulantly and crosses his arms over his chest, pulling a laugh from Tsubaki. "You're so childish. Come on, if you finish this we can leave early. I don't want to start on another unit until tomorrow."
"Speaking of tomorrow," Black Star begins uncertainly, scrubbing a hand through his hair, "I have things to do, so I won't be making it."
Her eyes narrow at him. "Black Star…"
Shrugging, he slumps low in his chair, glaring at the other side of the room. "Don't get all 'Black Star' with me. I have other responsibilities."
Tsubaki frowns, but pushes the book toward them. "Thursday, then?"
"Thursday," Black Star agrees.
Thursday comes, and then another. Soon, going to tutoring isn't even that big a deal. Not that Black Star particularly likes it, because he doesn't, but hey sometimes it's better than hanging out and getting high, or hanging out and getting head, or just sitting around the club and listening to Mike whine about something, or Katsuya insult him in Japanese, or Morella flirting with Soul. It also helps keep his mind off of things like his dad and Medusa, and the stupid assholes at Arachnophobia who keep trying to fuck with them, at least for an hour or so every day.
Tsubaki isn't bad, either. He's hung out with her a few times—just little things, like going to the movies with her, Soul, and Maka, or just hanging out around school at lunch. He doesn't do it a lot—he and Soul have a reputation and keep, and Maka is the epitome of a ruined one. Well, hanging out with her is. He does like hanging out with Tsubaki though. She's funny and sweet and different from the girls he usually hangs out around, which is to say she's not a huge slut or a drug addict.
He tells her this once, on a Friday afternoon, tonguing a cut in his mouth, while simultaneously fingering the bruise on his cheek. It's five-something and they're hanging out in the main lobby like a couple of losers, waiting for the rain outside to die down so she can walk home. She's got her legs tucked up underneath her on the uncomfortable metal bench, and she makes a face at him. "Thanks?"
"It's a compliment," Black Star assures her, scrolling through his twitter feed on his phone. He laughs at a picture of an alien and the caption "ayyy lmao" on it, turning his phone around to show Tsubaki. She doesn't find it as funny, but that's just because he has a lot to teach her.
"Can we go back to you complimenting me? Because it felt very backhanded." Tsubaki waves at a few people leaving the school, and turns back to him with a raised eyebrow. He smirks at her and stretches, spine popping in several places.
"I'm just saying that you're pretty cool for someone who tutors. And math, at that." He shudders, grinning at her laughter.
Tsubaki smiles warmly at him, glancing away from him and toward the doors. Black Star can see a hint of red across her cheekbones and smirks. "Well…thanks, I guess."
"Sure."
They talk a bit longer, and soon enough the rain has stopped. Standing, Black Star shoots her a look over his shoulder, "You live far from school?"
"Near the hospital," Tsubaki says, shouldering her bag and starting toward the doors. "Why?"
"I can give you a ride," Black Star shrugs, catching up to her easily. The air outside is thick and warm—it'll rain again soon, he realizes with a grimace. Tsubaki shifts beside him, looking tentative.
"You have a car?"
"A bike."
Her brows furrow for a moment, but before he can correct himself, the realization sets in on her face, and if he's not mistaken, there is a spark in her eye. "A motorcycle?"
Laughing, Black Star turns jumps off the curb and starts toward the next street over, where he and Soul park their bikes. Tsubaki keeps pace with him easily, and when he looks at her in his peripheral, she's grinning. "You're not scared? Most girls are."
"I think it'll be fun. Stuff like that is exhilarating. Don't tell Maka, though," she turns a wide-eyed gaze onto him, prompting a smirk out of him. Resting his hands on the back of his head and closing his eyes, he shrugs, "Sorry, not promises."
He barely dodges the swing of her bag, snorting at her loud cry of "Black Star!"
"Hey, listen we all need to have our leverage, right? Don't take it personally—what the fuck!?"
Black Star barely moves when she bumps into his shoulder, and he completely ignores her gasp of horror, because he's feeling pretty horrified at the moment. Six feet ahead of him, his bike is completely fucking trashed, and it all screams Arachnophobia.
Or more specifically, Giriko. Probably. Black Star isn't sure, but he wouldn't put it past the piece of shit to wreck his bike. In fact, it'd be sweet payback for the way Black Star had stolen his date a few weeks ago, but still. Fucking with a guy's bike is like asking for a knife in the gut, and Black Star will be only too goddamn happy to give it.
"Holy crap," Tsubaki breathes, the words muffled by her hands. "I—do you want me to call the police? My brother—"
"Don't call anyone," Black Star grits out, stalking toward his bike. It's not as bad as it could have been, but it'll still take a lot of work to be fixed, and it'll be a while until he can drive it again. To add insult to injury, he spies white spray paint on his seat, an A staring back at him with what looks like a shitty spider web around it. "Just…go home, I guess. I'll figure this out."
He hears her shoes scuff against the ground toward him, but she must think better of it. "Are…are you sure? I can do something, if you need me too."
"Yeah, leave," he snaps, turning to glare at her. He feels awful for being such a dick, but he's fucking pissed, and he has to make a few calls. It would be better if she weren't privy to them.
She seems to battle her emotions momentarily, but finally makes up her mind, turning on her heel and heading the other way.
Twenty minutes of staring at his broken bike later, Black Star hears the low rumble of engines heading his way. In the houses around him, some people close their blinds, while others open them to see what's going on. Or, if you're like the old cook down the road, you've been out on your porch since Black Star first swore.
His dad's is the first bike that rounds the corner, and Black Star can see the exact moment he sees the bike. His knuckles tighten around his handlebars, and his mouth curls up into a snarl. "Arachnophobia?" He asks when he's close enough to speak over the rumble of the engine without yelling. Yellow Star and Grey Star are the only other guys with him, which Black Star is grateful for. If Mike had been here, Black Star never would have heard the end of it, and if Liz or Soul had come too, he'd have an angry Thompson on his hands and a smug Soul.
Black Star exhales sharply through his nose, shoving his hands into his pockets. A drop of water falls on the bridge of his nose, and he glares at the sky. "Yeah, guess so."
"Fuckers," Yellow Star—Kenji—bites out, phone already in hand, Morella on the other line as he asks her to bring the truck to the school. Black Star doesn't know why they didn't do it in the first place, but they probably thought he'd been lying or something. Assholes.
"Fuckers," Grey Star agrees lightly, wearing the same smirk-y little smile that his son always wears. Like father like son, Soul always mutters when Grey Star and Green Star are around, to which Black Star can only nod. They're both shit disturbers and always looking for trouble, and he's surprised they haven't tried to kill Minako or his dad to become president. It seems like the kind of shitty thing they'd do.
His father swears darkly and rubs a hand over his chin, giving his bike a dirty look, like it's his fault it got trashed. "This is why I wish you wouldn't drive the damn thing to school."
"Oh, sure, I'll just ride bitch with Soul. How the hell else would I get to school?" Black Star asks sarcastically, glaring at his dad with enough vehemence to curdle milk. He is so not in the mood to deal with his dad's bull, and he'll probably have to pay out of his own pocket to get his fucking bike fixed now, too.
His dad grins at him, sharp and angry. "You like that idea? Riding bitch?" His eyes are glittering, and behind him, Yellow Star and Grey Star shift, starting their bikes back up. "Good, you'd better get used to it. Or maybe just walk? You can start now." He guns his engine, ripping away from Black Star with a mean laugh. To add to his day of misery, Grey Star drives through a puddle, splashing Black Star up to his knees. At least Yellow Star gives him something akin to a sympathetic look.
With a sigh, he drops to the curb, ignoring the dampness settling into the butt of his jeans, and waits for Morella to come with the truck.
Black Star is so fucking mad that he doesn't even realize he's just shoved some chick into a locker in his attempt to reach the tutor center. Behind him, Soul apologizes on his behalf, but Black Star doesn't even pay attention to it. "Man, you gotta relax!"
"Fuck off," Black Star snaps over his shoulder, glaring at his friend for a second before turning back around, just barely dodging Patti Thompson, who gives him a stupid grin and tries to punch him in the kidney. She manages to nick him a bit, which only adds to his annoyance and anger.
He'd been under the impression for the past few weeks that this tutoring shit would be helping. Tsubaki had surely made it seem like it was, always encouraging him and smiling at him and telling him how awesome he was doing, like he was a kid or a dog that just learned a new trick. And yet, the score on his math test tells him differently, and it doesn't help that they called home to tell his fucking dad. It's only his luck that Daichi answered the phone and not someone who would rat him out, though he's sure it's only a matter of time. Crona's in the same class as him and the fucker must have known that he'd gotten a shit mark, since Black Star hadn't kept quiet about it.
The whole mark issue and the thing with his bike, well it's really not his week.
Soul catches up to him and spins him around with a hand on his elbow. "Black Star!" He snaps, trying to get him to slow down, but it's no use. He's a man on a mission, and he's about to rip his useless fucking tutor a new asshole.
He slams into the tutor center and is glad to see that aside from another quiet-looking boy, Tsubaki is the only one in there. She looks startled at the loud bang of the door, and then directs her gaze at him, looking confused. "...Black Star?"
Stomping into the room with Soul close behind, Black Star shoves his math test in her face, snapping, "A fifty-eight? Are you fucking kidding me!?"
Tsubaki takes a few steps back, looking affronted and pale. "What? What are you talking about, Black Star?"
He's not thinking straight. If he were, he would know that this isn't her fault—she doesn't grade the papers, and she's done her best, but he's not thinking right and all he wants to do is yell at someone or punch a fucking wall and since this is the easiest and most efficient way of letting out steam, he's taking it out on her. This, in hindsight, is probably not the best idea. "The fuck do you mean? I've got a fifty-eight on my test! You're supposed to be helping me—"
"I'm not—this isn't my fault," she argues, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She looks like she's shaking, and Black Star thinks, good. Get angry. Hit me. "You probably didn't show your work! I told you that you had to show your work or you wouldn't get the full marks!" Soul is at his shoulder, pulling him out of her face—when had he gotten in her face?—and Tsubaki snaps, "Don't blame your shortcomings on me, Black Star! I've been trying to help you!" The effect of her anger is lost on him when she looks slightly sheepish afterward.
He breathes in and out through his nose, aware of how red his face must be, and how hard Soul must be holding his shoulder. He doesn't mean to take it out on Tsubaki, really. But she's—she's here and she's the only one who he can do this to without being reprimanded for it harshly. "Well you haven't been doing a great job," he snaps, and with that he tosses the paper in her face. Her eyes widen before she snatches it out of the air, glaring.
"Then stop coming," she says, steely-voiced and angry. "It's as simple as that."
"Hey guys," Soul butts in, stretching an arm across Black Star's chest as he takes a step forward again, bracing him back. Soul's voice is low, calm. "Quit it. Let's get out of here, B."
He glares at Tsubaki a moment longer, only turning away when hers begins to wilt. She almost looks guilty now, and Black Star refuses to acknowledge the squirming feeling in his gut. Fuck her.
Shrugging out of Soul's grip, Black Star turns, startling only slightly when he realizes they have an audience. Nearly a dozen students are crowded by the door, trying to make themselves look inconspicuous, and then of course there is Maka, who is shoving her way through Harvar and Kilik, looking livid.
"Black Star!"
He elbows past her, starting down the hall toward the doors. He doesn't have time to listen to Maka fucking squabble on about what a dick he is. He knows thanks.
Black Star tries to ignore them, but behind him Maka and Soul start going at it. "Are you kidding me!? Why didn't you stop him? God, Soul you're such an idiot—"
"It was none of my business, that's why. And don't call me an idiot!"
"People said they thought he was gonna hit her!"
Soul snorts, and Black Star is slightly relieved by his next words: "Black Star wouldn't actually hit her, Maka. If you think that then you definitely don't know him."
"I know him fine!"
Black Star loses them in the crowd exiting the doors, and he quickly makes his way through the throng of people, desperate to get the hell out of this place. He thinks about going home, but decides that it's a stupid idea. This also means that the club is ruled out, and probably Soul's now that he's lost him in the crowd, and he doesn't really care to go back and find him. He could always head over to—no; he doesn't wanna be around anyone if he's angry.
He's about to cut his losses and try and find Soul when an idea strikes him, and then he's off down the street.
His dad said once and only once that his mom was a good lady, but that she had some issues that were never worked out, and that's why she killed herself. He said that it wasn't Black Star's fault that she did, and that it wasn't his fault either, it was just her and whatever was eating her up inside. It was probably the only time his dad has ever sat him down and dealt with his tears and snot above the age of six, and to this day Black Star isn't sure if he's grateful or angry with his dad for doing it. The only time he ever acted like a caring father was when he was telling his son that his mom killed herself. It might have been better if his dad had punched him in the shoulder and told him to man up and rub some dirt in it. It might have been better if Black Star had gone on without knowing about his mom's death (like how she did it or the last thing she said to White Star, because his dad told him those things, too). But his dad had thought it was right to tell him, and Black Star isn't sure if he can fault his dad for that.
His mom's grave is a stone sticking out of the ground, only reaching his knees when he stands. Her name (Amelia Baxter) and the quote underneath are faded and the stone is cracked in places, but Black Star thinks it suits her, or them really; rough around the edges.
The ground is damp when he sits down, leaning back against the stone and lighting up a joint; the atmosphere of the grave yard is just what he needs to chill out, and he makes sure his phone is on vibrate so it doesn't disturb the quiet peacefulness of the place.
Black Star doesn't remember the last time he came here—maybe in the summer, with Nygus, or maybe even before then. It sounds so shitty to think about, Black Star frowns, flicking ashes toward the person's grave beside hers. Does that make me a bad son? Or does it make her a bad mom, for being here?
He stops the thought before it can go any further, because thinking about shit like that will only piss him off more. He just needs to chill out, to relax. This week has been hell, this whole month has, and Black Star just wants a few moments of fucking peace.
But his thoughts are going wild, angry with his dad and his family, with his mom and Soul and Maka and Tsubaki, with Sid and Nygus and everyone else who has ever shat on him or tried to be nice to him because they felt bad. His joint burns out and he can't find it in him to relight it, only rubs it into the ground with his thumb, ruining it.
Grimacing at nothing in particular, Black Star leans forward to put his head between his knees, trying to even out his breathing. If he goes back home with all this pent up anger and energy, he'll get his ass handed to him or a bag and be forced to find somewhere to sleep. Soul said his brother was currently in town, which meant the guest room at his house was off limits, and he wouldn't wanna see Sid or Nygus, so those two are ruled out. The only other people he can think of would either be pissed at him (Maka) or working the late shift (Mifune).
He doesn't know how long he sits there, just trying to relax and pull his thoughts together, but soon it's much colder than it was, and the sun is nearly setting.
He's still not getting anywhere with this breathing shit.
With a sigh, he heaves himself to his feet, running two fingers across his mom's name as he leans down to grab his backpack. He's just about to leave when, in the distance, he hears the loud rip of a Harley tearing through the side street, and Black Star knows that bike almost as well as he knows his own.
Smirking, he turns in the other direction and starts off toward Chupa Cabra's.
Black Star's knuckles slide along the wall as his opponent ducks, and one of the guys slams him into the bricks. He bites his cheek and kicks his leg out behind him, successfully hitting the guy in the knee. He's released in seconds and he spins around, bringing his knee up into the guy's face as he crumples forward.
There are two other guys, one going to Broken Knee, the other one coming toward Black Star. There is blood on his teeth from where Black Star has split his lip, and his eye is blackening nicely. Grinning, Black Star swings, misses, ducks, and uppercuts—
Giriko had fucked off earlier at some point, and Black Star has yet to decide if it was to get reinforcements (which was not likely, considering the guy could have just called them in off his phone) or flee like the pansy motherfucker he is (which is more likely, since he is one). All he really knows for sure is that this is thrilling and exciting and each hit lifts a little bit of the weight off his shoulders. That's probably fucked up, he thinks as he gets a palm to the left of his face and a brick wall to the right.
He hadn't really come to Chupa's looking for a fight like this; just wanted to hear from Giriko why the fuck he thought he could wreck his bike. But the prick had denied any part in it, and Black Star wasn't about that lying life, so he'd decked him and run out as fast as he could, hoping the idiot would chase him.
He was not disappointed. Well, maybe a little, since Giriko had run off like a bitch.
"Ya think ya can just hit our boss and you'd get away from it, Hoshizoku!?" The guy has foul smelling breath and rotten teeth, and Black Star would be only too happy to knock them out of his mouth for him. Instead, he settles for a head butt when the guy gets too close, which is pretty dumb on his part.
They both reel back from the impact—Black Star hits his head against the wall again, while the other guy stumbles away, tripping over bags of trash and falling against the wall. "You stupid fuck!"
"Yeah, man, my bad." Black Star flaps a hand toward him, wincing. He's about to turn away and leave when he remembers that there was one more.
Black Star already has his fists up when he gets one to the mouth. He immediately tastes blood, and it feels like one of them might be loose. Shit. He doesn't have time to dodge as another fist hit's his face, this time around his eye, and he bumps against the wall again. "Jesus Christ you guys are annoying," he gripes when the guy, who Black Star officially dubs Crazy Eyes, fists his hands in his sweater and shoves him repeatedly against the wall.
"Hey!" The shout from the mouth of the alley has the grip Crazy Eyes has on Black Star slackening.
"Yo, get the fuck outta here!" Crazy Eyes shouts, but his grip is slack enough that Black Star can twist out and away from him, stumbling across the ground. He regains his footing easily enough, though he feels like he might be sick.
"You get the hell out of here!" The voice calls back, and when he comes near enough Black Star can see a familiar shade of white, though this is tamer. Fucking A, man, Black Star sags. Now I gotta save Soul's brother's ass.
Only, then Liz Thompson smashes the back door of Chupa's open, light flooding the alley. She's glaring at all of them with a gun in her hand. Alright, Liz, Black Star thinks with a grin, backing toward her and away from Crazy Eyes and his crew.
Crazy Eyes spits at Black Star's feet, hitting his shoes. "Hiding behind a stripper?"
"Bartender," Liz snarls, one hand on her hip, the other stretched out as she levels the gun at his chest. "And I know how to shoot. Get the fuck outta here."
"He's a Hoshizoku!" The guy argues, but he moves toward his pals, helping Broken Knee stand. "Star Gang!"
Black Star can hear the smirk in her voice as she says, "Yeah? So am I."
The guys leave shortly after, and Wes fucking Evans helps Broken Knee into a cab. "The fuck is he doing here?" Black Star asks Liz when they get inside, scowling when she slides him a soda and not the beer he ordered. She shrugs, at the face he makes.
"He's here for me. He accused me of avoiding him on the phone earlier. You wanna tell me why Giriko left this place in such a hurry?"
"Wait, wait, wait back up to the part where you said you phoned him—"
"He phoned me."
"—because Soul would not like you fuckin' his brother. Wes is like an angel, I heard."
Liz snorts, "Hardly. Now tell me about Giriko before my boss comes over here and kicks you out."
He sighs, sinking low on the stool and side-eyeing Wes, who has come in from outside and sits a few stools away. He looks like an older, cleaner version of Soul, and it's freaking him out. "You heard about my bike?"
"Yeah?"
"It was Giriko."
Liz frowns, wiping a glass clean and pouring a shot of tequila. "Take that quick," she advises him, scanning around for her boss or someone who might rat her out. He downs the shot and winces at the bad quality. "You guys are serving shit."
"Then don't drink it," she snaps, grabbing the shot glass. "And don't pick fights against Giriko. I know you think you're some kind of…god but you're not. His guys could kill you if they wanted to risk pissing your dad off."
They glare at each other for a while, but she blinks and looks down the bar at Wes. "So what's up with him?" He asks, sipping from his pop petulantly. His phone vibrates in his pocket, but he ignores it. "Got a crush?"
"Do you blame him?" Liz asks loftily, then, "No, he's subbing at your school as the music teacher and apparently, Patti is acting up."
"Wow, what a shocker."
"Shut your damn mouth, brat."
His phone vibrates again, and Liz sighs. "I better go take care of him, huh? You head home or something. Try and avoid the snake bitch if you can."
Medusa, right, he'd forgotten all about her for a second, but now the thought of her lurking around and causing shit is in the forefront of his mind. It's probably Crona or Ragnarok texting him right now. If his dad wanted him, he'd call. "Yeah, whatever; thanks Liz."
"No problem, kid," she smiles slightly, and then starts off down the bar.
Outside, he finds Soul. "What are you doing here? Go home." His eye dart to the car Soul is leaning against, and his annoyance grows to new levels. In the passenger seat window, is Maka. She's glaring at him, looking far too angry. Wes must have ratted him out, the motherfucker.
"I'm not in the mood, and I'm not even gonna ask why you brought Maka's bitchass. I'm going home." He drawls, shoving his hands into his pockets and hunching forward, starting down the side walk. Maka snaps something at Soul, and he hears them begin to fight. She must get out of the car, because the door slams shut.
He hunches his shoulders up near his ears, wishing it wasn't so damn cold. Maka's shoes slap against the ground as she hurries toward him, and Black Star wishes she'd trip.
A hand comes down on his shoulder, fingers digging into the material of his sweater. He stops, turning slightly to glare at her—or he would, if it were Maka.
Tsubaki stands behind him, looking determined and worried. Which is strange, he thinks, because hadn't he yelled in her face earlier today? He wouldn't wanna talk to him if he'd done that, but then again, Black Star was a pretty black and white person. Tsubaki seemed like she could take a lot of shit. "Are you alright?" She asks when he turns around fully to face her. Her eyes widen at what must be a pretty messy sight on his face, and she covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh! We should get that checked out or something…"
He shrugs away from her wandering hands, glaring. "Why are you here?"
"They needed a ride…"
Snorting, Black Star turns to go, rubbing a hand across his forehead. He doesn't wanna stay out here any longer, because he might be a dick to her again, and that's the last thing he wants to do. She doesn't deserve his anger, no matter how much he wishes she did. "Well, I'm fine. Go home, Tsubaki."
"You're not fine," her voice is quiet but firm, and he hesitates for a second, before rounding on her.
"How the hell would you know?" He snaps, fisting his hands in pockets. He doesn't know who the hell she thinks she is, butting in, but he fucking thinks she should stop. He tells her this, and her face turns an alarming shade of red, before she stomps forward, fisting her hand in his sweater much like Crazy Eyes had earlier.
"I'm trying to help you," she breathes, anger making her eyes glitter in the light of the streetlamps. "I'm trying to be your friend! If you would just—just let me! At least let me clean out the cuts on your face?" She releases him slowly, bringing her hands to her chest. Black Star bets she must be serious, that she really does want to help him, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Getting mixed up with him…it's not the best idea. Does she know that? Or is she just being stubborn?
When he doesn't answer, Tsubaki seems to deflate, her shoulders drooping. Her mouth opens, but he beats her to it, already walking past her toward Soul and Maka, who are still arguing. What helpful friends they are. "Are you coming? I don't got all night."
He doesn't glance back over his shoulder, but he can hear the smile in Tsubaki's voice when she murmurs, "I'm coming," and runs to catch up to him.
"Ow," Black Star complains lightly, only because he figures he shoulder. When Tsubaki glances at him and moves the alcohol-soaked cloth up higher, he actually yelps. "Uh, Tsubaki!?"
"Sorry," pink spreads across her cheeks, "but it's really bad right there."
He sighs, relaxing on the edge of the bathtub. Tsubaki's house is hella nice, and not like Maka's nice or Soul's nice, but nice like old and really…elegant, as lame as that sounds. It looks like it could be his grandma's house or something, and it's nothing like Soul's house which is furnished with the nicest shit money could buy, or Maka's with mismatched couches in her living room. He wonders if she's from money or something. Maybe her parents are doctors or CEO's.
He asks her this, and she accidentally presses on his face again, "Tsubaki!" he snaps, leaning away from her, not missing the way her gaze darts everywhere but his face. "Jesus, watch it with that thing—"
"They died," she tugs him back into range and cleans the rest of his face with quick and efficient moves, then grabs the Neosporin from the counter. "Hold still, this will feel cold, alright?"
Black Star stares at her, biting his tongue from asking anything stupid, like how, because he knows from personal experience that people don't like being asked that. He feels bad for asking at all, but how the hell was he supposed to know that her parents were dead? He grunts when she tugs him closer again, not realizing he'd turned away. "Sorry," he mutters, meeting her eyes briefly, prompting a small smile out of her. He hopes she knows he's apologizing for everything that's happened today, because he won't be doing that again.
With a sigh, she starts applying the Neosporin, hands steady and warm. "It's alright," she says with a small smile, one hand resting on his knee to steady herself. Black Star's lips quirk up the slightest bit, and he's about to ask something else, just talk to fill the silence when Maka's voice comes from outside the door: "Can you two hurry it up in there? It didn't even look that bad."
"Fuck you, Maka!" Black Star snaps, feeling much better when Tsubaki lets out a loud sigh at the door.
"We're just finishing up!"
"Thank god," Maka groans from the other side, "I might kill Soul if I'm out here with him much longer."
Tsubaki rolls her eyes and turns back around, pressing a butterfly bandage to his face. "Are you sure you're alright, Black Star?"
He shrugs, mostly because he doesn't really know if he's alright. He also doesn't want to chance spilling his every thought to her; Tsubaki is suspiciously and annoyingly easy to talk to.
She watches him a moment longer before standing and gathering the materials she'd used to clean his face, putting them away in the medicine cabinet. "Well…I'll see you tomorrow?" She asks when he stands at the door, gripping the handle.
"Yeah," Black Star says without hesitation. "You'll see me."
He walks home, despite Tsubaki's protests that he get a ride. I need fresh air, he'd told them, and now he kind of wishes he'd taken the offered ride. It's cold at night, and he lives pretty far from Tsubaki.
Still, by the time he gets home he's a lot more relaxed than he has been all night, and feels much better because of it. The TV is on when he gets inside, his father passed out on the couch, snoring loudly. Black Star makes sure to slip by as quiet as possible. He doesn't want to deal with his dad right now.
Actually, all he wants is to pass out and sleep for the next three days, but when he opens his door, a thin hand clamps down in his wrist, tight to the point that it actually kind of hurts. "The fuck?" he asks, glaring at Medusa. In the low light, her eyes seem to glow gold, and it's unsettling, to say the least.
"Crona says you caused quite a scene in class today," Medusa murmurs, leaning toward him. Her mouth is pressed nearly to his ear, and she trails her hand up his arm, finger nails dragging along his skin. He shivers despite himself, moving out of her reach.
"Crona's a goddamn tattle tale," Black Star sneers, eyes darting to the door down the hallway as it cracks open. "He needs to mind his own business."
Her eyes darken and the smile on her face grows wider. "Does he now? I think it's you that needs to mind yourself. And, if you want me to keep this from White Star, then I need you to do me a favor."
He steps back, glaring at her. "Fuck you." He knows that going against her could fuck him in the ass big time, but Medusa is a crazy bitch and she's lucky she's still around. His dad would never pick a piece of ass over his own son. "Get out of my face."
She snarls, low, grabbing his chin in her iron tight grip, pulling him back toward her. "I want you to stay focused on this club," Medusa hisses. He's close enough to smell her breath—something sweet, but too sweet. "If that means doing better in school, then so be it. Your father needs you, and failing school isn't going to help you. I'm just looking out for you, Blake-y."
Black Star snarls, shoving her away from him. "Let my dad worry about Club stuff, you fuckin' gash." With that, he opens his door and shuts it quickly behind him, right in her face. He hopes it didn't wake his dad, but doesn't really care. Who the fuck does Medusa think she is, getting into club shit? If his dad heard her saying that shit, he'd knock her back into her place. She might be the Queen right now, but his dad can smell a snake like a bloodhound.
At least, Black Star hopes he can.
He flops onto his bed face first, grimacing when he phone vibrates. Maneuvering himself so he can dig it out of his pocket, Black Star types in his password and squints at the screen. It's from Tsubaki.
Did you get home alright?
Black Star can't help the smirk that climbs up his face, and he quickly types back: corse lol thx ;)
He's nearly asleep when his door creaks open, just enough that, peeking through half-lidded eyes, Black Star can see his father looking through. He doesn't move an inch, just watches his dad watch him, and eventually, with a sigh, White Star closes the door.
notes:
There are probably a few terms in here that weren't common knowledge, so here:
Hoshizoku- Japanese for Star Clan
Old Lady/Queen- wife or steady girlfriend of a club member. There is usually one Queen; the main old lady, who is the old lady of the King/President (Medusa and White Star)
Star Eater- A female who hangs around or sleeps with a member.
Prospect- Someone hopeful for club membership, who rides with the club during a probationary period. A unanimous club vote must be cast by the members for full initiation.
If there are any more questions/you want headcanons/or just wanna hear about the fic, I usually dick around at monkkeyslut at tumblr, so hit me up!