A/N: Oh boy, I'm a monster.
Craig
This is stupid, Craig thought, his mind still dark and clouded. Why the fuck am I even here? Why am I listening to this asshole? Cartman was ahead of him, babbling on about something. A game idea he had, Craig was pretty sure.
"And then, we'll have like the Drow Elves, which will totally suck by the way," Cartman was saying, waving his hands expressively. Because Cartman was a whole lot slower than Craig, they'd been walking far longer than necessary, forcing Craig to hear way more of this idea than he really wanted. "I'm thinking Kyle will lead them because Kyle is a dirty Jew and everyone knows that Jew magic sucks."
"Mm," Craig said, noncommittally. When Cartman turned to glare at him, Craig flipped him off and asked, tiredly, "What are you guys fighting over again?" There had been something, he was pretty sure, but he couldn't remember, considering how much of the conversation he'd spent spaced out. Thinking, don't lie to yourself.
Cartman groaned and spread his hands wide. "The Stick of Truth, Craig. The Stick of Truth. The most powerful object in all the land, remember? Whoever controls it controls the universe!" If it weren't Cartman, this might actually sound pretty cool. "Clearly, as the Grand Wizard, I'd be the best to control it."
"Yeah, sure," Craig agreed, rolling his eyes. "And we'll throw spells at each other and attack each other with sticks, yup, sounds cool already." But his heart wasn't in it. Really, he didn't want to play a stupid game with Cartman, he didn't want to learn martial arts, he didn't want to fight Tweek! God, I'm a mess… No, he did want to fight Tweek, he'd had it with the blonde's rejection of his kindness, he was sick and tired of Tweek being too paranoid to believe that he didn't want to fight. If you think I want to fight, if you think I'm a monster, then I might as well be one.
"I know right, it's totally sweet," Cartman said excitedly, completely unaware of Craig's inner dialogue. "You should, like, get Clyde and Token to play too. You could all be on my side because fuck Kyle." Why would I want to be on your side for anything? But Craig didn't say this, instead, he just stared at Cartman until the shorter boy quickly said, "A-anyways, we should probably just get you ready for tomorrow's fight because apparently someone's never been in a fight before."
Craig didn't rise to it, instead, he just asked, "What kind of martial arts am I going to learn?" Not that he really cared, this was so stupid anyway. I wonder how Tweek is doing… he wondered absently as he scuffed his old sneakers against the pavement and stared at the horizon. "Is it gonna be Kung Fu or something?"
"I'm thinking Sumo, actually," Cartman told him, hands behind his back.
Craig stared at him. "What the fuck." It wasn't even a question. "Sumo? What the hell is Sumo going to do for me? Tweek's learning fucking boxing!" Which he still couldn't picture but it sure sounded a whole lot more useful than a sport literally created so fat people could throw their weight around.
"Well Craig," Cartman said, glaring at the taller male. "To be honest, Sumo isn't going to help you, but then, you already know how to fight, don't you?" Recoiling from the nasty look on Cartman's face, Craig flipped the boy off, which didn't do any good. "You were perfectly ready to fight Tweek, but you didn't, so now, I'm going to get you to learn something new because you weren't willing to just get it over with. This is your fault."
"Way to pin it all on me, asshole," Craig snarled, glaring at the boy. "You and your douchebag friends are the only reason this is happening at all. I don't give a fuck about someone who hasn't done a damn thing to me, hell, I don't even care about people who insult me. Do you know why?" He got in Cartman's face. "Because they aren't worth my time."
"Then why are you agreeing to fight Tweek at all?" Cartman spat right back, his eyes narrowed. "Go on, tell me! Tell me why you are wasting your time."
Craig straightened and pulled ahead of Cartman, leaving the slower boy to struggle to keep up. "For personal reasons, reasons that have nothing to do with you and your friends." It actually felt good to say it, Craig honestly did feel better. See Cartman, you don't have any power over me. I'm not a toy you can wind up when you want to watch me dance. "You'll get your fight, but not because of anything that you or any of those other assholes have made up."
Cartman growled. "Made up what? We didn't make anything up, Tweek has said all kinds of shit behind your back Craig, you have no idea." Craig tried to ignore him, but Cartman's voice was downright insidious. "Do you think that little spaz is as innocent as he looks? Oh no Craig, he hates all of us, but he especially hates you."
Spinning to face Cartman, Craig threw his hands in the air. "THEN LET HIM HATE ME!" he shouted, startling the fat boy before him. His usual monotone was gone, replaced by a furious roar. "LET HIM THINK I'M A MONSTER BECAUSE I AM." His chest ached as the image of Tweek staring at him with fear flashed through his mind. "I will fucking kill anyone who pisses me off and I don't care who they are. That includes you Cartman, so you had better remember it."
Cartman held up his hands placating while he slowly skirted around Craig, forcing him to turn to keep him in view. "Whoa, Craig, I'm on your side here. I want to see Tweek pay for whatever he did to you just as much as you want it. That's why I'm trying to help you, I'm helping you overcome whatever thing made you not kick his ass earlier." Craig took a deep breath, drawing himself back in. I don't care, Cartman has done nothing that I care about, remember. Pushing Tweek around is not something I fucking care about.
"I should have hit him when I had the chance," Craig muttered, finally willing to once again walk behind Cartman. "Fuck being fair, this is bullshit. Why am I learning Sumo?"
"Because Craig it'll give you that much more of an advantage," Cartman said reasonably, clearly glad that the conversation had deescalated again. "You're, like, a few pounds heavier than Tweek, plus you're taller. You're perfect for shoving him around." He said it like it was something to be proud of, like being big enough to bully people was a good thing. Craig clenched his fists but didn't strike. He was done getting upset over things that had to do with Tweek. It didn't. Fucking. Matter.
"I guess," Craig said vaguely, back to stuffing his feet. He wanted to hurt something, no matter what he did, he couldn't get Tweek out of his head. The twitchy spaz had become so deeply ingrained in there that Craig found the more he tried to push him away, the more he discovered. He just couldn't believe he'd wasted so much time on him. He'd been kind to him, practically. He'd tried to get the fight called off and given Tweek an opportunity to ready himself. But all he'd gotten was fear. It wasn't fucking fair.
Life isn't fair, your life has never been even close to fair. So what? Tough shit, stop crying and get this over with. Unbidden, the memory of Tweek's laugh invaded his mind and Craig's stomach clenched. Get out of my goddamn mind. I gave you a chance. You're nothing but a wimp who's scared of his own shadow.
Telling himself that didn't make him believe it though, and it certainly didn't make it any truer.
What did I even want from Tweek in the first place? Craig wondered, unable to stop himself. All I ever did was stare at him. It was entertaining, right? Or had it been curiosity, the intense desire to know what went on behind that mane of wild blond hair. Something had captured Craig's attention and something had made it overstay its welcome. He couldn't even put his finger on it, he just didn't understand.
Tweek had always been just another kid, just another crazy person that South Park kept in its bowls. The local spaz. Go to Tweek Bro's Coffee, where you can get overpriced coffee and a chance to see the most paranoid and twitchy kid in existence. Craig hadn't been one of the people to laugh at Tweek when they were younger though, he hadn't found it appealing. He didn't give a shit that Tweek's shirts were never buttoned right and that he'd sit in the corner of the playground for all of recess, tugging on his hair and screaming. It had just been a fact of life.
He could still remember kindergarten when children's parents still cared enough to walk them to the school or drive them there. What was more, he could remember Tweek being one of the only ones who didn't have a parent accompanying him, cooing to him and holding his hand. No, he'd walked on his own, with his small backpack that had looked gigantic on him and his overly large shirts that covered his hands.
Craig remembered because his parents had never bothered to come with him either. They hadn't cared enough, and he hated them too much to ask. So he'd always see Tweek on his way to school, with that same silver thermos clutched in his hands that he carried around now. At the time, it had been as big as his head, way too big for a kid like him to be carrying to school every morning. Craig hadn't watched him as studiously as he did now, but he'd still noticed. And when the other kids had mocked Tweek for having parents that didn't love him, Craig hadn't joined in.
Tweek honestly hadn't caught his attention at all until recently. Even in third Grade when he ran through the glass doors of the front of the school, almost tearing himself to shreds. Craig remembered being one of the first ones on the scene, along with several other curious older kids. He'd been walking back from the bathroom when it had happened, Tweek racing past him in his attempt to escape whatever monster was after him. Craig had followed, for some unknown reason.
He'd watched Tweek go headfirst through the glass, watched as jagged shards tore apart his dirty green winter jacket, leaving stuffing everywhere in its wake. Craig could also remember the blood that had stained the ground as Tweek stumbled and finally collapsed under the weight of his own mental pain. His jeans had been ruined, and Craig had seen the blood coming from the rips in them.
But that hadn't triggered his interest. That had just been another day in South Park. No, Craig couldn't for the life of him figure out what it had been. Maybe it had been because the teacher bored him, or maybe that was an excuse. Maybe something else about Tweek had caught his attention. Something else about the green-eyed boy with the crazy halo of hair that almost made his height of three foot nine look like four feet. But Craig couldn't think of it, couldn't even begin to fathom what it had been.
"Craig, we're here. Stop staring into space, it's getting creepy." Shaking himself alert at the sound of Cartman's annoying voice, Craig stared up at the vaguely oriental decal of the building that proudly proclaimed itself to be The Nishimura School of Martial Arts. "Come on, I got in contact with someone to teach you," Cartman continued, pushing open the door. "I'll probably be fighting against you so yeah, you should be ready."
Well, if there's one thing Cartman would actually be good at, Craig thought absently, walking through the door. It would be Sumo Wrestling.
Craig, on the other hand, wasn't exactly built for something like this. He wasn't scrawny- Well okay, he was a little scrawny. He'd hit a growth spurt before his weight had been able to catch up. Now standing at four foot ten, Craig wasn't the most muscular kid ever. He packed a good punch and knew how to use every bit of that height and weight to his advantage, but the fact of the matter was, Cartman probably had seventy pounds on him and that was going to make sumo wrestling with him a little irritating.
But, Craig supposed, that was the price of putting off the fight. He'd just have to pay it.
"Herro," a voice said, walking out from behind a partition. "Anda werrcome to the Nishimura Schoor ofa Martial Arts. Many I direct you in any way?" Craig just stared at the man, unsure what he was supposed to say. Thankfully, Cartman was perfectly willing to take over.
"Ah yes, my friend and I are here for a lesson in Sumo," Cartman looked over at Craig. "Is there a place where he can change?"
"Ah," the man said, bowing slightly. "Right this way." Following the man, hands stuffed in his pockets, Craig simply stared at the floor and tried to keep his mind blank. Funny, before Tweek had been a thing in his life, this would have been easy. Hell, his mind was usually blank. Now, Craig found only too many things racing around up there.
"You must remove youra clothing!" the man insisted, the moment they were in the changing room. "If you wish to learna Sumo, you must remove the barriers between yourself and being in tune with the ground beneath your feet." Rolling his eyes at the mumbo jumbo spewing out of the man's mouth, Craig stripped, hardly caring. As he did so, his lip curled at the still fading bruise that spread over his ribs on his left side. Whatever. If that fatass says a word, I'll punch him. Screw Sumo.
"The Master willa see you now!" The attendant told Craig once he was in nothing but his underwear. He'd elected to keep his hat on, seeing no reason to remove it. Besides, its presence made him feel a little less ridiculous, standing in nothing but his underwear. It's not as if I don't do this for gym class anyway.
Walking through the door he was directed to go through, Craig stared at the Asian man in a robe that stood before an abstract of a mountain sunrise. Walking forward, he stood inside the purple circle on the floor and looked up at the man, waiting.
The Master, as he was apparently called, gave him an appraising look. Craig wondered if he was thinking that the Noirette was going to be horrible at this. Perhaps he wasn't thinking anything at all. Craig didn't care either way, he just stared back, his gaze unwavering.
Giving a slight bow, the Master said, "Your friend hasa brought you to learn the ancient art ofa sumo." Friend, yeah, people keep calling him that but I don't think they understand just how much I hate him. Whatever, he already thought this was stupid, what with the incense burning in the corner and the almost mockingly oriental feel of the whole thing, Craig hated it.
Pressing his hands together, the purple-robed Master sagely said, "You must learna discipline anda respect." Staring up at him skeptically, Craig flipped him off, not caring much for the idea of respecting someone dressed in a bathrobe. It didn't perturb the man in the slightest, he merely continued, "In sumo, your body must be rike a stone." He pointed to his chest, furrowing his brows as if to drive home the point. "And your mind rike a meatroaf."
Okay, I couldn't have heard him right. Meatloaf? "Meatloaf?" Craig repeated, tilting his head to the side slightly in confusion. This is stupid, I hate this. But it was his fault for letting it get here so he just let it go. I should probably just be worried about Cartman squishing me or something.
With another nod, the Master said, "The object is simpry to push opponent out of circle." Sounds easy enough, or it would be if I weren't up against a hamplanet. "Is opponent ready?" the man called, turning towards the other entrance into the room.
"I'm ready!" Cartman called, before stepping out of the entrance way. He had the strangest looking pair of underwear on Craig had ever seen, almost like a thong but thicker. Definitely, something I could have gone without seeing. "Ooh, I like this hair thing, this is cool!" His hair was done up in a strange doo, with chopsticks sticking out of it and everything. Is that a wig? What the fuck is this? Giving Craig a hard look, Cartman reached into the basin of ground salt beside him and patted some on his hands, as if it was supposed to look intimidating.
Walking forward, Cartman placed himself on one end of the circle. Getting the idea, Craig wordlessly moved to the other side. Let's just get this over with. "Let us begin," the Master announced, putting his hands together once more before stretching them out to both of the children. Cartman stomped his feet, his eyes fixed unflinchingly on Craig. "Ready? And, th-ree!"
With a cry of, "Respect my authoritah!" Cartman ran at Craig. Seeing no reason to stay still and let himself be trampled, Craig stepped forward and met him in the middle, pushing the other boy back. It was difficult, undeniably so. Cartman was a whole lot bigger than Craig and clearly had something to prove. Pushing back with all he was worth, Craig's brows furrowed as he fought not to give ground.
He was sick and tired of Cartman, no amount of pretending was going to not make that true. If he could just beat him here, then maybe he'd feel better.
Oh yeah, like that's going to h-help! Craig stumbled at that. The voice his mind had conjured up sounded like Tweek, his tone not his usual screech but angry, mocking. You think you can just fight your –ngh- problems away.
"Body rike a stone!" the Master called out, his tone firm. Craig tried to focus on him, tried to push away his own negative thoughts that had chosen to take the form of the one person he couldn't bear to face right now. "Mind rike a meatroaf!"
You're a piece of shit Craig Tucker! Tweek yelled and suddenly Craig was seeing him, twitching there behind Cartman, his hands balled into fists. In his imagination, that bruise on his face was dark and ugly, way more obvious than it was in real life. It burned his retinas, making his whole body feel weak. Go on! Fight him! Beat him up like you want to do to me! Be the monster I know you are!
Cartman turned around, choosing to try backing Craig out of the ring instead. "Dude," he was grunting, though it sounded distant and distorted as Tweek advanced on them, his wild green eyes full of loathing. "Come on, now. Come on." With a face full of Cartman's ass, Craig found himself giving ground, unable to fight both the boy before him and the image of Tweek.
You're pathetic Craig! Tweek yelled at him, his twitching making the mirage of him shimmer. Look at you, y-you can't even talk to me, all you can do is stare! Who the fuck does that?! It was horrible because it was all the dark thoughts that Craig had been burying and they were coming out of the last mouth he wanted them to come out of.
"Oh, Jesus!" Craig wasn't even sure if he was talking to Cartman and his disgusting ass or Tweek and his angry words. "I can't take it!" he found himself pleading, leaning away from Tweek's glare, wishing that the image would just vanish. It's just the incense getting to me, that's all it is. But that didn't keep him from yelling, "Stop!"
I can't believe I looked up to you! The Tweek before him shouted, the words echoing within Craig's skull. I can't believe I thought you were worth something! Go on Craig, g-get angry. That's all you c-can do, after all, get angry. That's the only fucking emotion you have! But he couldn't get angry, he could only close his eyes and beg his mind to shut up, even while Cartman's buttocks made him feel sick to his stomach.
From the sidelines, the Master called, "Fight back! Resist the ass!" But he didn't see the master, all he saw was Tweek, with his blond mane and twitching face. Craig shook his head, trying to push it away.
"How can I resist an ass so great?" Craig babbled, when all he really wanted to ask was how do I fight back when the enemy is my own mind?
"It is only an ass." Cartman's ass was not just an ass but that was Craig's opinion. "You must overcome the ass with your mind."
But his mind was in shambles and he couldn't do anything to fight either it or the leering Tweek. "This ass is unlike any I've encountered, Master," he shouted, not that it did him any good. Please Tweek, he begged, staring at the boy. Just leave me alone.
Just like you left me alone? Tweek asked, his voice low and furious. You're nothing Craig Tucker. You aren't strong, you aren't cool, you aren't anything. You're just a scared kid, aren't you? It's pathetic, you're pathetic. Those words, coupled with the image of Tweek's bruised face were what did it. Craig lost his footing and suddenly Cartman was sending him flying. Craig only had a moment to watch the world tumble end over end before he was slamming into the wall, cracking his head against it.
As the world started to go black, the last thing he heard was Tweek's voice saying, I'm glad you hate me, Craig, because it gives me every right to hate you.
With that, the Noirette was lost to the blackness.